Poetry
... from KAY
1. Time
Time hangs like wet clothes on a line
The present wet with tears
we failed to wipe Years pass swift
in the wash of events
that leaves pain
in untold stories of the past Today
A time that holds no memories
Crisp and Dry, its folded away
To bring forth a line of youth
Rushing to dry the past
Moving a future
To amend a legacy
of tragic histories ***** 2. Insane: bloody but unbowed Your nails are long
That can draw blood from human flesh
Your laughter a raucous shriek
That draws fear into the heads of decent folks Body beautiful,semi naked
flaunting a sexual flame
Faces turn in shame
You a woman..tearless, numb with pain
Thwarted..Rejected and Exploited
and yet unbowed?
Is declared insane ***** 3. Single Mom They call you a brat
They call you a bastard
But you are my honey boy
golden hair to match the sun
Eyes that laugh in joy
You are my lovely boy
Throw away the lost heritage
Move on to meet the world
as a proud son of a single mom ***** 4. Mornings Bright and Beautiful Mornings bright and beautiful
Sunlight chintzed through bamboo screen
flower's fragrance on my right It's another day
The sun rays
beckon the news
on a breakfast tray News is bad as news can be
Massacre in B'bay,woman raped
families lost,a child burnt
News is good as news can be
Global issues to be settled
A new star rises in the west
To heal the scars of years gone by Must I brood over this intrusion
of bombs and blasts
on a bright and beautiful morning
Must I shake under the pain of the other's loss
Do I have a choice?
On this bright and beautiful morning
In the clink of the cup and plate
I hear the shattering of glass
on the whiteness of the serviete
I see the coffins of my mate On the Television
The sorrows of the berieved
The death numbers
rising by the day Sums up the fact
That on this bright and beautiful morning
There are hundreds for whom
It is the beginning of an endless night ***** 5. Yet another day Morning comes upon us,a yawn
like a languid dhun of a rag
Fog mellows a diaphanous veil of dawn
Morning screams with twittering birds
The milkman's wake up call
The Azan, a reminder that drowns all other sounds
Outside the lorries doze on the stand
The sweepers swish the streets clean
Inside the tinkling of teacups
The sun rays settle on the breakfast table
The newspaper slashes headlines The morning has come upon me
Reluctant to shed the night
I emerge to face the challenges
of yet another day ***** 6. Drift Wood:
(The widows lament) Her body lies like
Driftwood on the sand
Oceanic desires wash over it each night
That is how she feels
singled and unloved
Driftwood on the sand
The brittle exterior glistens in the sun
Uptight in the day, holding its own
A woman who does not understand That she will grow brittle day by day braving the waves of unmet desires crumpled into unidentified pieces
drifting gladly, as lemings do,
to her final anhilation ***** 7. This city no longer mine Withered memories of emotional ties
Of families frittered away
Memories
Of parental care
Of mates no longer alive
Of the native language
forgotten....distorted
With words from other lands
This city no longer mine
The ominous blackness of the kites
across the highrise
Scar the sunlit skies
birds in flight
send a message of fright
To the return of the prodigal
That Karachi is no longer
the city of light
The fiery laburnums shed no light
shadowed by black shrouds
marching in This city no longer mine
The present wet with tears
we failed to wipe Years pass swift
in the wash of events
that leaves pain
in untold stories of the past Today
A time that holds no memories
Crisp and Dry, its folded away
To bring forth a line of youth
Rushing to dry the past
Moving a future
To amend a legacy
of tragic histories ***** 2. Insane: bloody but unbowed Your nails are long
That can draw blood from human flesh
Your laughter a raucous shriek
That draws fear into the heads of decent folks Body beautiful,semi naked
flaunting a sexual flame
Faces turn in shame
You a woman..tearless, numb with pain
Thwarted..Rejected and Exploited
and yet unbowed?
Is declared insane ***** 3. Single Mom They call you a brat
They call you a bastard
But you are my honey boy
golden hair to match the sun
Eyes that laugh in joy
You are my lovely boy
Throw away the lost heritage
Move on to meet the world
as a proud son of a single mom ***** 4. Mornings Bright and Beautiful Mornings bright and beautiful
Sunlight chintzed through bamboo screen
flower's fragrance on my right It's another day
The sun rays
beckon the news
on a breakfast tray News is bad as news can be
Massacre in B'bay,woman raped
families lost,a child burnt
News is good as news can be
Global issues to be settled
A new star rises in the west
To heal the scars of years gone by Must I brood over this intrusion
of bombs and blasts
on a bright and beautiful morning
Must I shake under the pain of the other's loss
Do I have a choice?
On this bright and beautiful morning
In the clink of the cup and plate
I hear the shattering of glass
on the whiteness of the serviete
I see the coffins of my mate On the Television
The sorrows of the berieved
The death numbers
rising by the day Sums up the fact
That on this bright and beautiful morning
There are hundreds for whom
It is the beginning of an endless night ***** 5. Yet another day Morning comes upon us,a yawn
like a languid dhun of a rag
Fog mellows a diaphanous veil of dawn
Morning screams with twittering birds
The milkman's wake up call
The Azan, a reminder that drowns all other sounds
Outside the lorries doze on the stand
The sweepers swish the streets clean
Inside the tinkling of teacups
The sun rays settle on the breakfast table
The newspaper slashes headlines The morning has come upon me
Reluctant to shed the night
I emerge to face the challenges
of yet another day ***** 6. Drift Wood:
(The widows lament) Her body lies like
Driftwood on the sand
Oceanic desires wash over it each night
That is how she feels
singled and unloved
Driftwood on the sand
The brittle exterior glistens in the sun
Uptight in the day, holding its own
A woman who does not understand That she will grow brittle day by day braving the waves of unmet desires crumpled into unidentified pieces
drifting gladly, as lemings do,
to her final anhilation ***** 7. This city no longer mine Withered memories of emotional ties
Of families frittered away
Memories
Of parental care
Of mates no longer alive
Of the native language
forgotten....distorted
With words from other lands
This city no longer mine
The ominous blackness of the kites
across the highrise
Scar the sunlit skies
birds in flight
send a message of fright
To the return of the prodigal
That Karachi is no longer
the city of light
The fiery laburnums shed no light
shadowed by black shrouds
marching in This city no longer mine
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