Poetry
A Collection
By Aamir Aziz
AMOROUS EPISODES
Can you forget those summer afternoons?
When we made promises to confront the world
Along the dynamic stream, in the shade of the harvest.
And a sudden free fall of a ripened mango,
Perspired us the very next moment.
When exuberance of youth deceived us both.
Those recurring avowals of love and our fool’s paradise
Those dreamy afternoons and sleepless nights of our romantic illusion
Remind me of our feverish and playful self imprisonment
How narrow our cosmos was, where no dream came true.
Our timely escapade, from the emotional cage to the dusk of reality.
Though grim and strange it seems, struggle and perseverance its message
is.
Here tears follow cheers and pains enjoy monopoly.
The silent victim counters the jesters but what for?
His mind becomes a whirlpool of unanswered questions
He sings a song of melancholy and remorse, but for whom?
Who will solve this earthly riddle and escort us to the shore,
And who will rescue these hostages to fortune,
Who are in a dreadful insomnia, a painful prison.
O ignorance is a bliss and knowledge retards our reversion
And this brings the drop scene of our drowsy amorous episodes
In complete fiasco.
THE ALMS OF LIVING
In this infernal cyclone,
Immersed in brine till shoulders I am.
You know this was not my natural habitat.
A moment’s annoyance of the Deity,
Made us the theme of these tumultuous events.
However, an artless though splendid fight continues,
When I splash my blind route,
While swimming against the current,
And become a laughing stock of seasoned mariners.
My thirst could never dry this ever rising reservoir.
And a lasting scuffle with the water giants,
Won me nothing except an opaque watery grave.
And my heavenly nativity dissolved in dismal sea beds.
Now I firmly resent having these alms of living.
Praise be to destiny for condemning us to live!
SOMBRE SPINSTERISH SYMPHONY
Amidst blood curdling roars of solitude
What are days and what are nights for her!
Numbed by grief of her nothingness in being
And haunted by popular gory chants and incantations
This solitary victim of joint culprits of fate and populace
Gets married to her woes under solemn oaths.
Extended ferment brings venom in all ales, they say.
Vomit and nausea, the popular symptoms, they believe.
Toxin resides ultimately in those polarized bosoms
Where witches plague and men fear to pass.
Eyes become wet when conventions become standard
And conclusions are drawn without reflection and practice.
After customary nocturnal breach of youth,
The syndrome of age wrapped her too in his merciless wings.
But her pristine glory and hue gave glaring glows
When she warded off the flirtatious temptations of the folk
And obliterated each glimmer with her dignified decayed attire.
O Mighty! If mermaids were to be
The flour and yeast of our blurred aesthetics,
Why did You accurse the marooned humans?
CAPITAL PUNISHMENT
Simple it seems but complex it is
Collection of inspired follies for some, a challenge for others
A story without a title, a journey without destination
A prolonged joke for some, a momentary pause for others
Starts as a friend and deceives as a foe
A bed of roses for some, an unending marathon for others
A frank deceiver, a bargainer who always won
A loose structure incident for some, a nightmare for others
Yesterday, today, tomorrow and so on…………..
A meaningful nonsense for some, a tense snare for others
Philosophers’ ever green question and historians’ foster
child
An equivocal notion for some, a plausible interlude for others
Real it seams but dramatic it is
A mirage in the desert for some, a concrete impression for others
A meaningless enigma, a purposeless clamour, understood by none
Still….an optimistic wait for some, a detestable weight for others
MASS HYSTERIA
Those who drink the wine of credulity
Are mostly carried away by their eloquent eulogies.
Their present delight for ephemeral revolutions,
Implants curse of future in the womb of time.
They are asked to dance on the rhapsody of words and promises
And are entangled in the quagmire of mass hysteria.
Their gullible acumen is high jacked for humble ransom of support.
They become vulnerable to any mould and machination.
The cascade of circumstances leads them to indefinable depths.
Like incorrigible optimists, they refuse to admit obnoxious opinions.
In any sanguinary encounter, these mortal millions prove a modicum of
sand.
The sycophants roll the roast in this civic hunt.
The hangman’s noose sustains its shine in general.
However a few hollow dissentients are bribed by the despots.
Such a low profile stampede of sheep they become.
When their hypnotic fit ends, the nightmares have them
Which are the manifestations of their own deeds.
Plural I
My million fathom deep passions and perturbed prostrations
Give impression of an incoherent music composition.
Their stubborn flirtation and my zealous determination
Speak volumes for my regard for my destination.
My taciturn ego wakes up and sheds whole intoxication
A voice, which calls for dignity and resolution
And evokes exalted impulses in the crown of civilization
Which enervate the spark of self-exploration.
Who I am, and why this humiliation?
In this infernal adventure, why this fear of indignation?
Why the stream flows with these awful waves of frustration?
Will my inertial groans overt the approaching clouds of damnation?
You are a god in yourself and you lead the expedition
Only you have the knack of bringing your heart and soul in negotiation
The anthem of your soul is inspiration
Cast off this sheath of despair and lamentation.
Don’t believe in this coward dogma of predestination
If it is true, then of which worth is your creation?
He conferred spark of creativity on you, take it to the heights of culmination
Overcome diffidence and conquer the point of acme of your destination.
The oceans of glory are ready for your exploration
Undergo transition and resume your ancient track of illumination
Here lies salvation and this is the final word of revelation
My self ends her sermon with a demand for revolution.
