The Moment I Choose Poem by Naveed Akram

The moment I heard your choice, I relaxed
And fed the chickens, twisted the chin, fixed the eyes
Of summary and brevity and disease.
This moment is a mine of options,
Fastening the darts to skilful places of the heart.
My time has yet to come of oblivion,
Many years are in my treasure chest, of
Galleries and paint, fencing and pace,
Of sports and calamity, sweeping and travelling.

Now be a hundred times a year the sudden god,
From the cup's top to the feet of its stain,
From obtuse angle to acute angle of choice.

This is the year of the dragon that roars and roars,
Like a fiery beast of simplicity that soars and crawls
From force of wings and pride, wings and pride.
The alacrity of its flight bears no justice,
My years are more than its, so I have murdered it
Once and twice and thrice, from border to shore.

The dragon of woe is the one of vice and villainy,
Aching and chastening the women of forever-soil.
The dragon is not a god nor a demigod,
Fixing its stare from the start, like a gargoyle of
Too much size.

I shun and shudder, the moment I arrive from blessings,
My eyes are sudden and complete, like my eyes and signs
Bestowed to me from a place far away called Hills.