Naveed Akram Poems

My lady has died when she was a child,
Never has a hood been recovered, for she was a child.
The same dress she wore was red and blue,
Like the veins and arteries of her entrails.
...

Return to the copse withering like green flowers,
Staying remains the locality, the flowers of seeds.
A blushing blinding pain subjugates to the excess,
Oily flesh ruptures reverently and blisters remake themselves.
...

A clever way to rise in the morning is clear,
Illness vanishes from your toes and feet.
The blinding baking torture of heat hurtles
From the skies of golden damage, dangerous and cruel.
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My sun appears to be open,
One entrance so cold to it.
A sun has appeared for the holiness
Has great gardens from it,
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I eat more than I cook, little eyes are on me,
As I weep and shudder furiously, full of bad habit.
The reality of a life beyond encases me still,
To stop this, tragedy appears to mock and arrive
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A well of good water confidently acquires blessings,
From authority of most high, the exact manufacturer;
In this present hour the legionaries attain new goals,
Good wishes are sent to the awed and the awkward.
...

A ship of animals constructs a sword for its weapon,
Yet we decide and constrict like bleeders;
The onset madly depicts adamant relics of pain,
Painting on sordid areas, our acre of fish is again.
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My chief has hindered me by the way,
Open me in my heart, follow me and you.
Lie on the side of goodness, gauntlets
Are held for the nights and days to count.
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A sombre and woeful day has arrived for life,
Inside me I speak, and often we stay like spears;
Outside the hazards outlive us, for the storm,
And arrest us O Sun for the acts offered by life.
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Vast story of pain, lulling the blamed,
Its deadliness was forcing my soldier to run
And hide, forming the reality behind his back;
Your backs are turned to him by the temperature.
...