Higher Than Love Poem by Naveed Akram

Higher than love is the burden of death,
Huge is the price of this Morse Code.
My death is like a horse running to its home
With hay at the end of its journey.
I speak with a man who loathes the knowledge
Of ancients, and I speak of illness
That never strikes others, never strikes its leg.

The human body is marvellous like the pen,
It writes a story of wonder and denial.
The earthquakes within its tissues and organs
Burden the heart with love and joules.
Energy will become a response, a joint
Or favour, a jest or joust, the very favourable,
What is more favourable than energy?

The highest love enters its lovely mansion,
Of bricks and cement, redness and blackness.
Only the reality is here, I am in the rooms of
Hard aches and lovely seismic waves,
Their jaundice is my weakness, the ailments
Murder us with their switches and strains,
Why do you blacken the sway of the crimes?

The munched apple is a burden to the lovers
Who want a nice fellow and a blind dame.
One of the realities undergoes surgery,
It complains bitterly of the highest forms of
Love that you can find, in the middle of wells.
One apple is followed by pleasure in the tubes
Of living eternity, the collider of death.