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Through The Window

My name was coming, from my window,
I wanted him to retreat and collapse.
The simplest desires have been looked at,
Sewing thoughts for several people.
My window and door carried hard steel,
Mahogany seemed the best work.
Disinterested and crazy, the people through
The door were feminine and masculine.
My names count themselves with luck,
It has arisen from the heart and mind.
My windows and door shall be a war of homes,
Still the watching of outsiders is strong.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Tall Grasses

Tonight the tall grasses sway atop the scenery,
To this speak of width of your lenses, the bitter eye.
I gather before me my sight that was extinguished
All because of my awkward light, and dusk was begotten.
The morning carried on with fewer casualties,
In the morn is a dawn of wholesome taste, since it weeps
With dew, and flowers with all the language have tears.
The night has arisen foraging hate and dark resentment,
Fearing the day as it equals its stay, forming an entrance.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Allegiance

An oath has been pledged from the heart,
His task was certainly one of steel and iron;
Hard and brittle tasks require difference,
My oath shall proclaim this to the very fibre.

A little push goes a long way to the far end,
Words push and crawl to exterminate;
A wonderful meaning has arisen from them,
To make this pledge of allegiance.

My statements seem sound and sacred,
But my phrases shall count to the rest of us,
In efforts we explain, and all this while
The superiority of our dialogue is shown.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Who Do You Think I Am?

The look of light forming through his eyes
As he asked the immortal question;
The voice of a thousand-winds
Gathering into the Milky-Way;

A pure silver sliver of sentiment
Passes between us... thin as a breath, and deep as light,
And for just the briefest moment
There is no distinction
Between the living, and the dead,
For all here have arisen singing
With the new sun;

With tears in eyes
And the heartbeat of all the ages
Thumping deep,
Every angel holds it's breath...
Awaiting, the human response...

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Crying Day

Have a bun of tears, too many years,
Inside them we bake the very awkward feelings.
This food we learn is abundantly clear,
Yet where we are blind we are discovered.

Clarity is such a supreme sport,
Years of support gain acceptance.
This image in my eyes is so solid,
Inside the rooms of our life is a dinner.

It would clearly state why life is boring,
However, the reasoning of the soul is exciting.
Inside our joy has arisen, happy people mend,
But we tend to stay untouched, not resented.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Gold Clouds

As the wind goes on to its own stream
In the gold clouds of tomorrow rising
Like a summer of flowers gold sunbeam
Those from a fantasy world are actualizing

With flow in the evening rays

As the wind goes on to its own stream
And everything is in its twilight’s dream

When glow of the evening plays

With every agleam that as arisen your mind
In the flickering clouds dancing high
When those moments of days are left behind
In the night falling beyond starry sky

And the night fills with dark allays

*(lyric from 1 of my trance songs)

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Doctor's Liking

I suppose the question he asked
Gave me a liking for him
As my doctoring resents anything
Like disease
And the falling into sin is itself
The clever disaster
That we imagine
Has arisen
Now.

I philosophically justify
The belief in my heart
And head.

The wishes describe a blessing
But he needs to heal
The wounds of his mind
And body.

Clever and intelligent

[...] Read more

poem by Naveed Akram
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Incarceration Cause And Effect

bad choices usually
have bad outcomes
cause and event
crime and time

everyone is innocent in prison
is the perpetual not guilty plea
blame it on de man who taught
blame it on de man who fought

blame it on de fool who wanted to be cool
blame it on de location of a bar room stole
blame it on de hard drug pushed or alcohol
blame it on de police sting or sell out mole

prison incarceration in punitive prison
result of poor self choice made decision
locked inside can result in fatal incision
from this education few great have arisen

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Resurrected

Broad resurrection unites the arisen of us,
A single uninterrupted plain of white flour
Has transformed our diversity into garments
That we wear, wearing them has cooked food.

Naked and barefoot, the inhabitants compel us
As cloistered explorers, colossal in us,
To be silly in evil, silly in pride, not in good works;
Blue-eyed mammals combine the rest with day’s cleverness.

My classy sir, this combination excites me after the word,
Chubby cheeks are not enough, full of colour,
And they are full of colour that I see as the word,
The words compel us to be closed; where are they?

poem by Naveed Akram
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Writing?

What is he writing? Listen to the sounds
Of the keys, how swiftly his fingers move!
The eager and loveliest minute is a thought above,
It is in that touch, the moving touch of sweetness.
Abhorrent and unlucky are some strokes,
A pen sufficed but now the keys happen.
Putting the quick aside, he breathes and sighs
To see the palaces of gold, and the grand towers
That he is writing.
What is he writing? A message of fresh beauty
Has arisen, to wet the mind and everybody’s spirit.
In the temples of thought is recorded a lesson,
That thoughts are written, and their nature is solid.

poem by Naveed Akram
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