Naveed Akram Poems

Whose winning has erupted like a volcano?
The magma is hard, not soft, but intricate,
And it is gift after gift for the lonesome.
We pray and endeavour, pray and speak,
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A creator is aboard, feelings are strong,
They are sinful, tears run fearing the worst.
The creation is a statue, with one wise eye
And another one to see, so that creations appear.
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A table sits on boards of ice,
The panels are according to the precise.
This room chances us with hatred,
An office we connect to something crowded.
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A mortal thought carries a flute,
Singing this breathing will give birth.
Over hills and into tunnels, a small touch
Brings the body to a nearness with death.
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The flowers in the garden strike blue,
Just like lovely you.
These flowers at the forefront speak loud,
Opening the doors to what is allowed.
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He names the songs he sings,
When liking is not loathing, and the breath
Falls like an enigma called a comet;
A ray of light hangs in the distance, facing us.
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The sea has a face, my body,
As I remake the soul for glory.
Eyes closed, the water seeps in,
Nose shall succumb and body shall spend.
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The stars will reappear, suddenly,
Just like the sun and its planets.
The stars embrace me when fatigue appears,
A dormant spectacle of the stars.
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