Poetry Poems
Late Summer's Afternoon
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
I enter its silhouette
As the winds breaks thru its top
I opened my book
To a verse
Read it
And found it was true
We Refugees
by Benjamin Zephaniah
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
......
The Colonel
by Carolyn Forché
What you have heard is true. I was in his house.
His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His
daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the
night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol
on the cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on
its black cord over the house. On the television
was a cop show. It was in English. Broken bottles
were embedded in the walls around the house to
scoop the kneecaps from a man's legs or cut his
hands to lace. On the windows there were gratings
......
Dis Poetry
by Benjamin Zephaniah
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
......
Ars Poetica #100: I Believe
by Elizabeth Alexander
Poetry, I tell my students,
is idiosyncratic. Poetry
is where we are ourselves
(though Sterling Brown said
"Every ‘I' is a dramatic ‘I'"),
digging in the clam flats
for the shell that snaps,
......
Late Summer's Afternoon
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
I enter its silhouette
As the winds breaks thru its top
I opened my book
To a verse
Read it
And found it was true
The Poet
by Peter Dr Lim
Poets can't save the world but their words can heal, comfort, console, inspire give hope and transform; many lives will be affected, mainly the sad, bereft, lonely, neglected and marginalised as they will come to know they are not forgotten in their misery in a callous and heartless world.
In this regard, poets are akin to priests although they don't preach.
They aren't 'the unacknowledged legislators of the world' as Shelley would seek to convince, but they can certainly be the pure voice of love, beauty, truth, humanity, and, as such, their role is more important than that of legislators whose influence and reach is limited and constrained.
Millions upon millions will recite the verses of poets, in all times, all over the world, in deepest adoration--how many would want to quote from law statutes or regulations?
......
A grain of lentils
by Sanja Atanasovska
A grain of lentils from the neighborhood
explained on the loudspeaker
that I actually
didn't even know how to write poetry
and that my professors were patrons.
The hollow grain made a drama out of nothing
and scratched the cheeks of my composure.
His chase was a boiling cauldron.
I stopped respecting the damned grain of lentils,
......
Mother Call me Ayatullah Nurjati (After Learning the Legacy of the Saint)
by Ayatullah Nurjati
Mother called me Ayatullah Nurjati—two words I made into a blind map for this ever-heavier life.
Back then, I thought only she strung them together.
“Ayatullah,” she said, “Sign of Allah.”
I learned to read it in the wrinkles of my father’s brow,
in prayers stumbling from our mouths too busy complaining.
“Nurjati,” she whispered, “Light of the Teak.”
I thought it an old metaphor,
until I realized: teak isn’t valued in its youth.
......
Himmat Kar, Sabr Kar, Bhikar Kar Bhi Nikhar Jaaega Yakeen Kar Sukr Kar Waqt Hain Guzar Jaaega - Wajid Shaikh
by Wajid Shaikh
Yeh wahshat-e-hujum kab tak tujhe juda rakh paaega
Tu jo gaafil hain khud se gaafil kab tak rah paaega
Yeh gardish-e-waqt,ka tazkira kya khu
Sabab tu khaamosiyo ka jaan jaaega
Waqt ki amaanat hain sabhi zakham tujhpar
Waqt hi marham bankar ubhar aaeaga
Hain tujhi par aitbaar har simt,jis simt dekhega
......
