Naveed Khalid


Naveed Khalid Poems

361. Oracle Eye 9/18/2014
362. Immaculate 9/18/2014
363. Purgatory 9/18/2014
364. To The Moon I 9/18/2014
365. Lampost 9/18/2014
366. Harbinger I 9/18/2014
367. Genie 9/19/2014
368. Invisibility 9/19/2014
369. Abstraction Ii 9/19/2014
370. Abstract Woman 9/19/2014
371. Lavender 9/19/2014
372. Sewing Face 9/19/2014
373. Old House 9/19/2014
374. Elixir 9/19/2014
375. Phantasmagoria 9/19/2014
376. Mask 9/19/2014
377. Mystery 9/23/2014
378. Myrtle 9/25/2014
379. Goodnight 9/26/2014
380. Thinking Of You 9/27/2014
381. The Rossetta Stone 9/29/2014
382. Unrhymed 10/2/2014
383. Canonical 10/4/2014
384. Elysium 10/4/2014
385. Tragedy 10/8/2014
386. On Poetry 10/8/2014
387. A Skull Found In Sand Dunes 10/10/2014
388. Wild, Wild 10/13/2014
389. Snowfall 10/14/2014
390. Last Night Blues I 10/15/2014
391. Love's Trance Goes Soaring High 10/15/2014
392. On Poet's Self 10/15/2014
393. Utopia Of Swangeans 10/17/2014
394. Sanctuary 10/23/2014
395. Bookworm 10/23/2014
396. Aquiline 10/28/2014
397. Eternity Ii 10/28/2014
398. Textman 10/28/2014
399. Mesmerism 10/28/2014
400. The Peacock 10/28/2014

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Best Poem of Naveed Khalid

Ode To Love I

I'll not show thee, love, in summer's prime,
That by the sun before your eyes,
Hath fled as well in ethereal wings,
What in beauty's look you still behold;
And by a worthier pen is writ alone,
Against time's e'er changing face:
A shadow from the tree of wilderness,
Of May morning in the mellowing year,
Full ripe gourd of some hazel nuts,
Which to my decaying form abides,
The world of your sickening desires,
a bag of bones with two lovers dead;
Oft rich in colour more scope of things abound:
Eternity! shall have no place in heaven,
Or else...

Read the full of Ode To Love I

Resurrection

Me thought no fair aspect by time's devouring hand,
That to my decaying form of mortal look in cold repose;
Else in white bier by what I write to my eyes so blind
Than e'ery fair from thy fairest brow in ne'er ending night
To that sheer scope of light, my love, glorified in abundance
Of living memory's pen-pricked angels in waking hour,
Oft illumines more bright a wanton tapestry at thy throne,
Lo! full rich content of that forfeited dark ere thine unweird eye:
I fain would bring to

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