Originally from Scotland, I came to Pakistan many years ago. I read History at university but my profession was in communications.
I am most moved by the poetry of Rilke and Yeats, I am enamoured of the style and clarity of Auden, and the elegance of Eliot and Verlaine as well as appreciating the immediacy and passion of more contempory poets.
After you died I couldn't piece you together.
It frightened me a bit.
The more I longed for you
The more fragmented you became.
I'd close my eyes but all that came
Were disjointed images.
A leg, an arm, an ear, an eye,
As if some piece of surreal art had come alive
That displayed limbs, individualised
Dancing in space.
The scar on your forehead came
But not your face,
Which melted into some crazy, cubist piece.
Months passed, one was busy, one stayed sane,
Filled in the blanks as best one could
Did different things, dealt with the pain.
Then one day you came together
And I could see you whole again.