Naveed Akram Poems

The prophets are men of astonishing zeal,
Greatness reigns over their souls, so much meal.
Every prophet guarantees the result, the last day,
Professing special causes, leaning on shoulders.
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Inside the thought is an array of knowledge,
When do computers basically examine this object of the mind?
Never do they scrutinize, never do they work on brains,
Like going to movies in the cinema, and risking their lives.
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I am one of the aching mermen,
Living within the certain cities undersea;
The saddest part cried and died
Before victory bit and lit the season.
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The loss of mirrors is openly a kiss,
Home of the triumphant ones.
Nature abhors poverty like little lambs,
Fleeing in the spring, finding acts.
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Your paradise is met by tones of laughter,
Offering you love from up above like openness,
Ladders erected can surpass its beauty one
Day, to speak of little words after guttural sounds.
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First the sowing of seedlings with dribbling ways:
A criterion of the grass is that it slithers,
Sloth has burdened the brotherly bells,
And belts of flames are enlightening,
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When I was young, my father and I talked
Of the ways we grew like magnets to each other;
We went to the lectures together,
Learnt industry by meeting the top bosses,
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I wore some Lion's skin, like a hunter grown tall,
It was in the solar moments, when the lunar spells
Were absent, and sun had to pierce the creatures.
I proudly remarked on some misadventure,
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It was delightfully cold, and I understood the man
Who was part dog, he wanted to reply to the whole
Yard, where ferocious venomous tigers taught
Their strong looks, into ditches they spread.
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I hope a terrible growl was one condition
Of the human body and all its parts;
Of the steaming coffee a little cream was worming
Its way to the drugs and curses.
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