Naveed Khalid


Naveed Khalid Poems

401. Almanac 7/27/2016
402. Adam's Apple 7/30/2016
403. Boar 8/4/2016
404. Sanorita 8/9/2016
405. Alumni 8/15/2016
406. Printer's Devil 8/19/2016
407. Torrential Rain 8/20/2016
408. A Kettle Drum 8/23/2016
409. Carnival 9/12/2016
410. Carpe Diem 9/12/2016
411. Cowslip 9/12/2016
412. A Martyr 9/21/2016
413. Melancholy 9/26/2016
414. Abracadabra 10/1/2016
415. A Procession 10/3/2016
416. Albino 10/9/2016
417. A Red-Haired Witch 10/9/2016
418. Ascent Of Sap 10/10/2016
419. A Boy 10/12/2016
420. A Tribute To Mother 10/12/2016
421. A Room Mate 10/17/2016
422. Poison Ivy 10/19/2016
423. A Royal Palm 10/23/2016
424. A Gift Box 10/23/2016
425. Machete 10/24/2016
426. Macho 10/24/2016
427. Master 10/24/2016
428. Kabbalah 10/24/2016
429. A Youngman From Verona To The Library Archives 11/1/2016
430. A White Swan 11/1/2016
431. Stigmata 11/1/2016
432. Annelids 11/5/2016
433. A Lost Poem 11/6/2016
434. Arbitrator 11/7/2016
435. Bowtie 11/9/2016
436. Bataclan 11/9/2016
437. A Squirrel's Song 11/9/2016
438. A Bend Too Deep For Woe 11/11/2016
439. A Global Village 11/17/2016
440. Fair 11/24/2016

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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

The Emerald Isle

What needest I this mirror that shows not half thy part,
Of ages that are dead under the Archangel's brow?
That through emerald eyes of titanic visions afar,
You paint me the picture of thy most high deserts,
Some unreflected Being, hid away from out of sight,
Hath beset many a maiden garden ere thine unweird eye:
Uneclipsed of looks so fair, my mind, by what I write,
Oft illumines more bright where least I find my love, abides by thee alone;
To fill the emptiness of e'ery fallin

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