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Naseer Ahmed Nasir

See, If You Can......

See, if you can really see
The wilderness of history
The paths leading to Macedonia are dust-engulfed
' Alexanders of Fate' have vanished
The reverbrating footfalls
Around the nail of Konya
Are now reduced to lifeless echoes of a timeless moment
No dervish has stamina left in his spinning heel
Brightly lit up streaks have dimmed
Serial dances have all been obliterated
Eagles swoop down over Baghdad
The sharp edge of Damascus weapons are now blunt

See, if you can really see
The depths of your dreams
Have growing forests of poison-besmeared eyes
In place of a throbbing heart
Striped snakes of the New World
Now live in the ancient edifices
resting on pillars of Corinth

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Book Mark

I remain
Where she left me
After she had finished reading.
No one leafed through the book of love
Time has coursed its way
Aeons have passed
But I remain entangled
In the inconclusive tale of love
Waiting for her to come back
And once again turn its pages
Get the story going again.

She was keen to progress in life
Desirous of
Glamour, fame, a bright career
How could she find time to read?
Accustomed to decorating shelves
With bric-a-brac and books
She knew
Nothing could be gained from old volumes

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Epilogue

Having forsaken all paths open to me
I come to you
Always.
And when for a while I am with you
I go beyond myself for eons
In measuring the distance of a single word.
I exhaust the breath count
Of my vanquished life-span
In the midst of your victorious centuries.
The single moment with you
Which becomes the digit of my fate
Remains deprived of any count.

The seasons exhaust all their four guise-embodiments
And snows of uncounted millenia
Continue piling up in heaps
On the poles
From beginning to the end of time
While you sit near the fireplace
Soaking yourself in the warmth

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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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