Showkat Ahmad Wani Poems

Again my pen awakes to write, but what?
And Nought! At door of grief shall write a word
Of joy, or write a spring on snowy house
And write chinary shade to scorching grove
...

What ails thee? Poet! My dear When catch the sight
Of orchard garden, notice pale and sick
Thy dearest rose and petals hurt and ruined
Before of sinking into the grave and see
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Ye teacher listen! Dear, before thee place
The seeds of scorn beneath the marshy green
Among the rows of chaos, and seal their minds
With faith of dark, and clarify them all
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Thy friends are never friends of core, you know?
But foes of foes that share the rag of friends;
You leap them all thy treasure, all thy glee,
And all thy spring that bloom the every rose
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We lost all the senses since we melted fast
As glaciers giant with global warming curse,
And drop by drop we went down chasm of dark,
These strode on hunting souls, we went on sleep,
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The statues go down, melt in part by part
At firstly stroke of sun on face of hope,
Were chiselled clear by idle life of trust;
Thy sense, thy words, thy map, thy all at melt
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Some darken locks that cloud the sun of sun,
And make the forest deep for flying birds,
Are caught in never ending net till rest;
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Now after million years I free the thread
Of rust on writing-file to heave the taste
Of inner cosmic ocean-pearls of pen;
A worm hath slumbered after having gruel
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In spring, the earthly fairies gild by breeze
And gaily keep the words for future bright,
And childhood merry dreams hath weaving age
To spend the zenith bloomy__ full of joy.
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My heart! __ be brave, be brave my heart to lift
This dust for sturdy rock, and wandering beam
To radiant star to ash this fearful bird.
Let leave thy chilly sigh for scorching cheer,
...