I am not a poet
They say I am not a poet,
I, too, think so,
I am not a poet,
For I dare not turn the truth,
Into falsehood,
Or vise-versa,
I refrain myself from decorating
my verses with words and phrases,
To create sensation.
I call spade a spade,
In the simplest term
I may not be a poet,
But am aware of,
The mysteries of love,
I may not be a poet, But know how to detect,
Imitations in emotions.
I am aware of,
The cavity the society bears,
The thriving double standards,
The artificial claims of love,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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On Mumbai Serial Blast
Who are these harbingers of terror?
Who are these enemies of humanity?
Who are these vampires of destruction?
Whose hearts don't melt at the screams of innocent people,
Whose eyes don't shed tears at mutilated corpse,
Whose sentiments have turned indifferent to weal and woe,
Don't they have parents?
Don't they have children?
Don't they have brothers and sisters
Wives and relatives?
Then why they play the game of terror?
No one can justify this dreadful act,
No religion on the earth supports terror,
It is a deliberate attempt to endanger the unity and integrity of the country,
But our unity is not strained,
It runs in our veins in the form of blood,
Howsoever hard they may hit,
Their mal intentions will crumble away after colliding with our resolve,
And ultimately we shall emerge as winners,
And they will definitely come to grief.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Our Indian Police
She is brave,
She is strong,
She is dutiful,
She is friendly,
But she has mortgaged all these qualities
To criminals and
tyrants for
money,
She is worse than prostitute,
Anybody can get her favour
By dint of money,
She traps the innocent and releases
The criminals for money,
She extorts money from people,
She can take even life for money,
Hundreds of fake encounters are
In her account,
She is a blot on law and order,
Sometimes she behaves like a broker,
Sometimes like a robber,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A tribute to my ideas
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to write a poem,
But when it does, I sit down holding my head,
I behold the ideas put on the sheet of the paper,
They seem to say, ' You can't escape yourself from us. We shall come when we wish to come.'
I couldn't help smiling at them,
They are the inhabitants of my thought realm,
They are always welcomed,
They are the most expected guests who come unexpectedly,
They have a great hold over my senses,
They mould my tears both of joy and sorrow
Into themselves,
They access a situation even before me,
And fall on the paper like the drops of dew,
They travel with me into unknown lands,
They show me the glimpse of human sufferings and pleasure,
They are the friends of my weal and woe.
I thank them for I am nothing without them,
I can't move an inch without them,
The are the strongest links in the chain of my life,
If they are broken, I shall break.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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On Tsunami in Japan
Tongue is mum,
Words are scattered
The whole existence seems to be melting
Into nothingness,
Who are we?
Nothing but playthings,
Objects of derision for Nature.
Our achievments,
Our profitability,
Our whole life is under Her heavy feet,
She exercises Her might on us
Whenever, wherever she wishes,
She does everything upsidedown
In an instant.
Who are we?
What significance we bear?
We are like dew drops scattered on the leaves
Until the sun shows his visage.
Who cares for us?
Certainly none.
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Daring Hope
My pain grows and my heart sinks,
When far away in the sky a star blinks,
The star of my life is about to sink,
And when about it I impatiently think,
I grow restless with the heat of sentiments,
My vivacity departs and my soul bends,
I pray to God for being merciful,
When I go to Him with my accounts sinful,
I couldn't do my duty towards Him,
The prospects of my acquital is dim,
I live my life in earning n spending,
All my good deeds are still pending,
I have reached on the sharp turn of life,
I don't know when I will end this strife,
The world is drawing me towards it,
It seems I will not get respite a bit,
I came in this world but all alone,
My loneliness has forever gone,
I am crushed under the burden of ties,
I don't know where my destination lies,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Deal In Helplessness
They got ready to shoot the scene,
He unbuttoned her,
Her nude body was shining like marbel,
But her coyness was annoying him
She didn't seem to be habitual
In the trade
But she posed to be brave.
They started making love amidst
Sweet moans,
The lust of her snowy creamy skin,
The touch of her soft luscious lips
Got him into the heaven of untamed desires,
The cameras were moving,
But ignoring them their hard work was continued,
Now she was supporting the act
For she couldn't afford to miss that chance.
They were perspiring,
tossing their bodies
And ultimately the summit was attained.
But while counting money
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A deadly dream
A little while ago I was among them
Smiling, talking and calling the life pleasure,
I remember a twinge of pain in my chest
And then it was dark all around,
I heard my loving ones crying and wailing,
People asked one another, 'What happened to him? How did he die? '
Somebody replied, 'It was a heart attack.'
Somebody said,
'It was so sudden that we could do nothing.'
There was a lot of hustle and bustle around,
After sometimes I was given a warm bath
And they wrapped me in the shroud,
But I didn't feel any suffocation,
It reminded me of something
When I was alive, I couldn't sleep covering my face
for the fear of suffocation,
Now it could hurt me no more.
I felt I was being carried away on the steal,
People were enchanting sacred verses,
They buried me with heavy hearts
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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My Beloved Father
It was a lovely experience,
To live with a man
for thirty years,
The years slipped away one by one,
Yet his face remains in my memory,
It relieves me when I am
in the desert of gloom,
when the world becomes poisonous for me,
With all its ugliness,
His beautiful smile takes away
every pain.
I still remember the
fingers,
Holding them I saw the world,
I still remember the lap,
Sitting there I learned to dream,
The dream of innocent adolesence,
The dream of magnificent youth,
He never raised an eyebrow on my demands,
But those of illegitimate nature.
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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My elderly friend, Zahid Saeed
Simple, coy, and humble yet experienced in wordly matters,
He is a man of strong character though his conjugal life is a fiasco,
He is a loving father and a faithful husband
But his fidelity is taken as his infirmity.
He has a good pair of ears,
I often inflict pain upon him by reciting my poems,
He listens to them patiently and reacts on them boldly.
He helps people by lending them money
And then hides himself from them.
Whether it is his friends or relatives
He is always ready to bear the brunt of their indifference towards him.
There are still many years ahead of him
Yet he wears an elderly look to gain our sympathy.
He is a teacher by profession and teaches his students with same innocence
As he shows us while narrating the ordeals of his conjugal life.
The students take delight in him,
For them he is the best teacher who never insists on them for the payment of tuition fees.
For me he is the best friend who is always ready
To face the retribution of my ill-nature.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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