Waiting For A Title Poem by Mushtaque B Barq

Waiting for a title!
I shall keep falling
like a forlorn longing
from the thickest limb
of Chinar
to jog your memory
on my lips as undertone:
‘ I have laid a carpet of conked out sighs'
on your ways to tavern.

I shall keep falling
like wounded leaf,
boisterously roaming in mid air
for you to take notice
of this autumnal romance
at the cost of that solo groan
when carefree steps
squash even the last vein
of my survival.

I shall keep falling
over your overcoat
and kiss your shoulders before
touching the sole of your old boots
that you on no account polished
after repeated appeals
for the reason
that autumn leaves
serve the leather
better than camel's hair
fixed in the freshly cut wooden piece
from the old tree.

I shall keep falling
after carewornpedestrian
fails to find brainiac bard
to engage his wits, worries and wayward wobbles
to rub up his bald head,
to find a flow of his beloved blood
that falls on the paper
for the next summer to sob
under the colossal Chinar
with a book of his own
sealing his silent discourse
for want of the title.