A Mesh

A Mesh
Over the loathsome lying culture,
I see a hovering leading vulture,
Came from the distant alien land,
Each bony joint to apart, disband,
And eat the last remains of flesh,
Under the false pretentious mesh,
Of terrorism.

poem by Shahida Latif
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The calamities

The calamities

Calamities are the beasts of prey,
They hide couching along the route of life,
And pounce on the each passerby,
When he enters into their hunting range,
Who knows who becomes the victim,
And where they prey upon him,
With the nailed paws and tearing jaws.

poem by Shahida Latif
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While Flying To London

I am aspired;
My wings are open wide,
A new world is in front,
The sky is wide spread,
With measureless bounds,
With no edges left and right,
Infinity stretches beneath and above,
Time and Space have become one,
As if they are in the grips
Of the mortal hands
And I with the vanished sense
Of profit or loss fly to London:
A new destination, a compressed world,
The centre of the Global Village.

poem by Shahida Latif
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The Settling Fog

“Save, save, save me from the brutal hands, ”
The cries emerged early in the foggy morn,
In the month of December in frosty cold.
Then a volley of bullets was fired,
The cries instantly became silent;
The neighboring windows, the doors opened,
They seemed like black holes in the thick fog;
The lookers’ images appeared like phantoms,
Then smelling stinking smell of the foul game,
They shut tight the windows, the doors,
No one came to rescue the victimized being,
For the fog was settling before the sun rose.

poem by Shahida Latif
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Be Not The Characters

Be not the characters,
Of fictitious and romantic tales,
And alluring folk legends;
How can we elope,
To the shadowy sheltering world,
Far away from the indifferent community,
All fatally against the lovers,
How can we escape from the net,
Woven around with the lacerating thread,
Of customs;
Romantic characters only suit,
To the dreamy books, films and fictions,
Or they are the substance of folk tales;
But in the world of reality,
Those who follow the counsel,
Of the unbridled hearts are lashed,
Flogged, whipped and thrashed,
And have to suffer nothing but pangs.

poem by Shahida Latif
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