Sibghatullah Khan Poems

Saying the same over and over makes no sense
unless it does not mean the same.
But how can you say something
when words are so rude? : they refuse
...

My Sweet little brother,
how I love to see you run around the house,
the park, the playground, and be the light
of my eyes! Here I am, your sister,
...

When my car broke down on the road,
he was sitting in the bucket seat, my little boy.
Almost five, he got edgy and said: "Why cars go phut? "
"It's the road, child, " I casually explained.
...

I walked in the dark, mucking
like a bat trapped indoor;
you gave me eyes to find my way out,
and pluck the sun from azure sky.
...

Through long, dark blanketing winters,
We try to keep up with life.
Every cold day, we sniff through our Coffins
To feel if it smells like grass, and wait
...

With three scores and ten to my name,
and that I can remember a lot,
I am the Old Man. I eat less besides,
And sleep the first quarter of every single night.
...

Dying is but going off-line:
all passwords forgotten,
Username permanently erased,
folders deleted
...

Since I'm past the time when it is hard to think
that, somewhere, Death might have laid his snares,
I keep telling myself over and over, as I drink
deep on life, that I might be caught unawares.
...

My physician had suggested walk among the hills;
and it's there I think I saw some daffodils.
I saw them blossom in an early morning haze,
hidden from all untutored human gaze.
...

'Dear Lamb, I'm so sorry for my great grandfather
who, in a rush of some indiscreet passion,
killed yours on the bank of this beautiful stream,
In cold blood—rather unbecoming fashion.
...