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Naseer Ahmed Nasir

The Fifth Loner

Beginning in the eyes
dreams end up at soles of feet.
The river is yet without a bridge.
For the earth is to become a path, a route,
centuries, a journey must endure.
Racing with water and wind
time overtakes me
and I, the lone
traveler of earth,
lagging way behind you,
holding close, the
left-overs of life,
from the farthest edge
of my expanse
wait for the universe to shrink.
They clay-lamp's flame
frightens the ghost of night.
The sky-canopy is too small;
the light more abundant than my heart.

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Snapshot

Night hidden behind that hillock
Hasn't peeped out so far
The ocean of darkness
Hasn't become turbulent till now
As yet black snakes
Hanging from arms of the clock
Stare at us with red ambers of their eyes
As yet with bated breath
The wolf of time
Waits behind blood-strewn sand dunes
For ripped-open body of the sun.
Surrounded by shadows - green and fresh
The shimmering cold water in the blue lake
Has as yet not become
Acquainted with
Swelling waves of strangeness
In our eyes.

Welcome...... as it is......
The frozen caravan of silent moments

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The Fifth Loner

Starting in the eyes, the dreams
end underfoot,
there the river lies still without the bridge.
It'd take centuries to build the muddy path
walking with the air and wind;
Time goes beyond me
And I am the solitary voyager
far behind you;
Holding on to the residual stores
of my life,
I wait for the moment standing
on the farthest point of the expansion
when the universe shrinks back.
The shadow of the night gets
terrified seeing the pointed
flame of the lamp.
The pavilion of the sky looks small, and
the light is more abundant than my heart.
But, the distances
are not longer than the

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A Dream Fallen Out Of Sleep

Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a dream burns
Somewhere tears sparkle
Somewhere a moon smoulders

Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere the sun rises
Somewhere the black beauty - night
Street walks
Somewhere an earthen lamp
Hides behind a facade

Outside the abode or our sleep
Somewhere bright birds flutter
Somewhere beasts of prey prowl
Somewhere there's a memory - forest
A desert there is - and a watershed
Somewhere a snowscape burns

Outside the abode of our sleep

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Epistle To An Old Friend

You are a doctor now - I've heard
A colourful glass jar
Your figure
With a dedicative label
Of service to the sick and the suffering.

I've heard
Your dreams have come true
The waning, waxing moons
Of quaint wishes
We saw together
Have blossomed to fullness.
Away and beyond
In lands overseas
All chapters of your book
Of youthful ambitions
Have come to be written.

I've heard
You have got all you ever

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Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs)

They leave their homes
Unwillingly forced
And follow their fate
Through fields and trails
Massifs and woods
With all their goods
Love and hate
Mores and tales
All in bales
Carrying their own
Flesh and bones
Feet like stones
Their bodies and souls
Kids and crones
Torn by storms,
Rains and gales
Attacked by guns,
Helis and drones
No role to play
In games of peace

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Lighthouse

Tell me, O moisture
Halted in the eternity of my eyes
Which stagnant epoch has confined you!
God weeps rain
On some land of pain
Why only one dropp of my tear
Has stuck on His lashes.

Tell me, O breeze of shores
The name of the city
In which she waits for me
Who told me in a drenched voyage
love is an island, grief the sail!
Tell me the releaving spell
I will perform the ritual
Of departing
And will meet her
In long rows of stony pillars
I will hold her in my arms
And will hand over her

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Weep Holes

Don't take us for the wall itself
For when the earthen plank behind the wall
Gets soaked through
We'll let the sorrow of burdonsome wetness
Flow through us

The soil sucks the trees' roots till now
Till now the sorrow of waters
hasn't reached the earthen plank behind the walls
Earth has not seen the woebegone face of the sky
The wall hasn't learnt to shed tears

Wind even now expects to blow the leaves away
Empty polythene bags sputter on roads
That never had trees planted on sides
People drink blood of their own climes
And grow like germs
Bonfire conflagrations ignite every where
Smoke has turned the flowers black
Butterflies' wings look ashen

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Dreams Lost In Water

No distance ever separates
Dreams and desires
No mirror ever dissolves
Reflection and water
In one's eye

What graph would you make
Of lines of thought?
The triangle of pain
Is without any angle

Countless races
Have dreams alike
But sleep and night-watch
Are never the same!

Names are forgotten
Codes alone come to mind
In nuclear setups

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A Village Far Far Away

Far, far away is my village!
Where fireflies of my childhood
Still glow in thick folliage
Of Pipal trees.

My lisping words
As they fell from my lips
Are still alive
On old, bent, dying stairs
Of the long-deserted house!
Like rapiers thrust into silence.

Far, far away is my village!
Where darkness
Spreads its wing before it is evening
Tick-tocking sound of the flour mill
Long flights of birds
Going far, far away
Tinkling bells
All become a single tune

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