Treasure Island

Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

Weddings Of Colour


The song wedded itself when a note of illness
Rang the other person, a man of stretched ability
That stayed on his bed for a night and a day.
This funeral was finer than objects of colour,
Dark habits swung into the monkey's parlour
Like a man-like being and like a woman-like structure.

The songs were beaten by the batons of wood
That was harder than any ordinary wood,
Loads of chipped wood piled high and were
Ignited, like the mastery and its lists of words.
The songs of ancient Britain seemed longer
Than the simple words of this divine tongue.

Weddings had abhorred us as we swam towards
The goal with stars in our eyes filtering the gaze,
This gaze was precious, knowing a little by now.
To be wife with man, and to be manly respect
Was a goodly word in the direction of boats on
The riverside, these steamed through the whole landscape.

Submitted: Thursday, July 03, 2014

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Topic(s): wedding

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