Sadiqullah Khan Poems

The God in you
So manifest
Soul is soul
The mystic in me
...

The drummer on the percussion
After violent beats to the rhythm
Of the steps and heads moving
Left and left with blood in motion
...

It was none, and it is now three
It is not a digital watch, it is not a scoreboard
It flies in double digits; it stretches its perverse teeth
From mortuary to hospitals. It defies beliefs. They say
...

The garment torn apart, ropes
Broken asunder. Waters, torrential
Flow above the embankments. Oceans
In your eyes, held by brim on lashes
...

We met; I blind folded, to a belief
Never mine, nor yours. In some sun-lit spaces
Your hands were hanging down the knees
Stature up-right, smiles carried by laughter
...

To you it’s the cold of the night
The thought fox, sniffing, coming and going
Sets neat prints on the snow, starless, the clock
Ticks. For me it’s the tenth muse, jagged
...

A sunbeam, from the breast, from the dark cuckoo’s beak
A melodious song, a wake-up call the day’s to begin, an idyll’s
Waiting hour. No need looking what may be or may not.
An abysmal afternoon, a leapt up evening; a night of sorrow.
...

The book-binder on the foot steps, holding
a wide bladed scissor, on a board, having
been pierced, scratched, it is made of wood.
The plate-form. I am forcing myself not to become
...

They may say
The syllabi are odd or even
By breathe by stress,
You may add
...