POETS’ CORNER

Poems forever

Waking in winter

By Sylvia Plath

I can taste the tin of the sky — the real tin thing.

Winter dawn is the colour of metal,

The trees stiffen into place like burnt nerves.

All night I have dreamed of destruction, annihilations —

An assembly-line of cut throats, and you and I

Inching off in the gray Chevrolet, drinking the green

Poison of stilled lawns, the little clapboard gravestones,

Noiseless, on rubber wheels, on the way to the sea resort.

You are the one

By Nida Irfan

You’re the one I want so much that it’s harming,

Harming the cacophony of my life.

You’re the one I crave so much that it’s destroying,

Destroying the imprudence in me.

You’re the one I dream about so much that it’s repairing,

Repairing what’s shattered by reality.

You’re the one I pray for so much that it’s raising,

Raising my weak faith in the divine.

You’re the one I admire so much that it’s rebuilding,

Rebuilding my broken self-esteem.

You’re the one I adore so much that it’s demolishing,

Demolishing all the useless walls.

You’re the one I believe in so much that it’s constructing,

Constructing all the needed traits.

You’re the one I feel by my side so much that it’s restraining,

Restraining me from evil.

You’re the one I search for so much that it’s blocking,

Blocking the spurious from entering.

You’re the one I am fond of so much that it’s nothing,

Nothing that is everything.

You’re the one I respect so much that it’s strengthening,

Strengthening fragile dignity.

You’re the one I find invincible so much that it’s frightening,

Frightening the prig.

You’re the one I feel connected to so much that it’s admitting,

Admitting your power.

You’re the one I’m in love with so much that it’s gaining,

Gaining the symphony.

Wrapped in tears

By Esha Bakht

The time gone … is now

my past,

I cannot forget the

memories so fast.

They are engraved in my

mind like a written script,

How can I forget them so swift?

They are remembered

by me even after years,

A vintage memoir,

wrapped in tears.

For days I didn’t cry

By Abid Agha

My tears learned patience,

waiting behind my eyes,

like letters never sent,

resting quietly in the heart.

I smiled in crowded rooms,

wearing laughter for the world,

thinking of you in silent moments

no one else could see.

Nights grew heavy with unslept dreams.

Your memory sat beside me,

warm and still.

I spoke your name into the dark

and called the pain love.

Since days I didn’t cry,

pain softened into longing.

It whispered your absence

into every breath I took.

And still, somewhere,

a tear remembers you.

It waits not for weakness,

but for the moment I admit

that loving you was real—

and letting go was harder.

Because some tears fall only

when love refuses

to leave the heart.

The view so serene

By Laiba Zubair

I looked at the sky,

I saw a light,

flying yet static,

divine.

To whom should I show

the view so serene?

No one, God, no one.

To whom should I tell?

The light which burns me,

inside and out,

I am sure I will be gone

with the light

I saw,

flying yet static,

that day

in the darkened sky.