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Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari

Mercurial Surge

Red-hot blood rushing
Throbbing and flushing
Through the arteries and veins
Around the flesh and bones
Piercing the heart, kidneys and genitals
Of a body made-up of mere clay

Life sings an unheard-poignant melody
May be written by the Oedipus
In the last days of his cursed life

Hormones, neurotransmitters and cytokines
All mixing with the lyrics
Of that unknown-ancient ballad
Psychedelic trances, visual hallucinations
And cocaine bugs

All pining for more
Mercurial surge

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Eid

This is that time of the passing year
When sorrows are no more here
When love blossoms in every heart
When joy giggles in the air

Smile! And spread it like influenza
Wipe the tears of the heartbroken
Woe is no more needed this day
Feel the festivity in each word spoken

Bliss is the name of the Eid
Tolerance and empathy is the lesson
Love yourself as well as others
Happiness has no color or discrimination

Eid day is all about humanity
Joy for all, Sorrow for none


Eid Greetings To All

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To Innocence

I think, think and think
what I get in the end
a tray full of ash
and a room full of psychedelic smoke

The age of innocence
pure and serene
no delusional perceptions
no suicidal ideations
and no dysphoric trances

That was the unrivaled time of my life
I miss you Naïveté
I miss you with all my heart
I hate this period of intelligence
I hate this highly rated hour

Please come back
Innocence
my life is craving for your arms

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Muslim-?

What a metaphor
Allah created
When the world needed
A real revolution
Of Love
Art
Truth
Justice
And
Human Dignity
Blessed You were
With the compassion and devotion
Of truthful and accomplished Prophetism

Today
What have You done
To Yourself-?
Hatred
Intolerance
Hypocrisy

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Human Factor

I could be rich like a king
but I prefer to live poor

o’ come on Kamran!
you all the time use defenses
to calm the agony
of your unwanted existence

look honey!
there is kid
playing with a ball
in the park
beside the lake
and there is another
fishing at the lake
same gorgeous dawn
might be the one fishing
knows better
how to play the ball
but he is destined

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Love Is Only Physics

Love is not an enduring emotion
Love is not an infinite passion
Love is not related to the heart beats
Love is not about dreams and trances
Love is neither revealed nor imagined
Love is no more running in the carotids
Love is neither Biochemistry nor Parapsychology
Love is just about fulfilling needs
Love ends when our expectations wither
Love is like a game being played on the cell phones
Love is a broadband or the invisible wire
Love is being viewed through the webcam of my laptop
Love is directly proportional
To how much physical time
You can offer to your beloved
In simple and plain words
Today
Love is only Physics

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Lahore

The city
Where I lived the pinnacle of my life
Wandered through the notorious streets
Inhaled smoke of petrol and hashish
Wrote my poems on its walls and gates
Loved the western charm of eastern beauties
Saw misery dancing on weak faces day and night
Witnessed pious bodies at sale on roads each midnight
Laughed at my helplessness when called overqualified
Cried with saints and poets every Thursday night

The city
Where a man committed suicide
Because he couldn’t feed his child
I lived here and survived
The bomb blasts, wars and disasters
But I died the moment
When one of my city fellows said
“You are not one of us as you were migrated here”

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I Deserve To Live Too

The wild days of mercurial surge
The tranquil nights of deep hypnosis
The gloomy fall of animated hues
The blooming spring of divine hopes
The unexpected rain
From the eyes of dying innocence
The dejected deserts of burning thirst
The aromatic enigma of stripped skins
And the ecstatic charisma of hidden treasures
I deserve to live these too

Today
Innocence is crying for corruption
Wisdom is pleading for ignorance
Piety is yearning for seduction
And the little evil is begging for acceptance

I am just a lesser human
My Lord
You made me to err

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Poetry Is Dead

Is this the end?
Is this the death?
Death has not always been an end
It may be a new beginning
It could have been a funeral
But it has to be the matrimonial
Of lust and hunger
Alas! Poetry is dead

She died last night
Of cerebral malaria
In the febrile fits
Of plagued identity
In the rigors and chills
Of seasonal insanity
In the aches and pains
Of bodily desires
Poetry died
Silently, invisibly
In the blast

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To This World Of Dying Humanity

The starter was served awfully before than-
You arrived;
The end is way afar yet.
And you have already relinquished;
All your days of juvenile hopes,
And all your nights of wet dreams.

Strippers, Dancers and Hookers,
Crying,
While awake or asleep;
Money, Money and Money…
Professors, Doctors and Philosophers,
Whispering,
In the ears of their confused minds;
Money, Money and Money…
Priests, Pandits and Sheikhs,
Praying,
In the abodes of their delusional holiness;
Money, Money and Money…
Artists, Poets and Thinkers,

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