Poems by Mohd Shafi
The Room of Love
Love is a Language of the soul,
If it’s effective .You can target your goal:
The room of Love consists our ears,
heart,body and mind hears,
the silent sound of the Love in spheres.
Love is to sail in an undiscovered land,
Showers of blessings on the heaven stand ;
Magical Ways circulate love in the blood;
True Love erupts as an eternal flood.
Lover is the Sun in an earthly home,
Untired glorious Love of the sun roam.
It Shines the springs and summers of one and all;
Beloved as Ozone Layer absorbs affections call.
Love is the fountain of the divine shower,
Within it graced its power.
“TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED”is our mission;
our hearts are vases full with the fertile passion.
Lovers condition is like a molten wax,
the beloved’s condition is like a solid wax;
The Solid wax is questioned,”Why You melt?”
In soft tone,it answered,”its molten wax felt”
the heat of the Candle flame
its luminous zone in darkness gets wonderful fame.
*Love is the wealth
Love is the health
Love starts its pilgrim in thoughts on the bed-
Its Pious walking researches in the sharp head.
In the heart Love takes rest,
It’s a wonderful feeling which is the best.
Love travels in rays steadily;
Divine passions are heavenly-
which unrests heart to pine,
true lovers gird up lion.
Love is the outcome of intensity and quality to yield ;
It grows as crop in the field.
Lovers name is good than beloved:
Their souls are already loved!
The love is not the fragrance of Rose;
It’s short-lived;Where the two hearts are close.
Care kills the Love-
It’s like a boiling water on the stove.
*Eye contact is the charm of the Souls Passion:
It conquers unseen lands of the station.
First it pilgrims in me,then it pilgrims in thee:
Love is the reaction of action to be.
*Eye-contact is the charm to woo,
It becomes ONE in TWO;
On seeing it holy pilgrims start –
It flourishes the favourable winds in human heart.
I entered with the soul of my shade,
into their facaded nose,
the building in Batamaloo.
Men in uniform,
searched my bag ,
with their poisonous venom,
Verily,their vandal towel,
measured five fingers,
in the same way,
with their trachoma.
I stepped upstairs,
in the dark rooms,
following the shade of my soul,
my alien companion,
and we happened to meet
a L A D Y
She was a pompous Liberian,
with fictional looks,
making holes like doe.
She points on me,
O’ You rustic Lad!
and gazed at me!!!
with her separate looks,
I was chased by the shade of my soul,
Am I stranger?
Is she mine?
She in her flippant nature,
fictionalised her voice,
groans in Lions voice.
She liquidised my feelings,
I was showering hell,
upon the time
the inner and outer time,
which she wastes in her building,
the building,where she was ruling
peaceful for the students hailing from Srinagar,
and measuring five fingers in the same line in her hand,
the lady is where she stand.
She seems to me
the guardian of hell,
Among rural students,
I was alone and one
ALIEN in the third world countries!
Her toxaemia towelling in her torso,
she was the Queen of Torture,
and dangerous than torrid,
on the Land.
She quicken her serpent,
in Sikh Turban
to play the tarot
but I used my English and Australian Tarpaulin,
Severally, I was an ALIEN on their Planet .
But I wondered in their land,
As a BIG , BIG STRANGER.
She was a Polyhedra,
from her urban land.
I found frozen water,
around me ,
full with the icicles on the willow trees,
..and I gesticulate myself behind the shadow.
I remember myself,
as an embryo of England and Australia,
I,hides in the ditch of ALIEN thought,
buried the seeds of my being,
in the heart of Anne,Maelan and Linda Williams,
Where, I, as alien,
relaxed with the cachet caboodle.
Shade of my Soul-the blessings of God
replied,”Is not Madam nice?”
I did not answered the Shade of my soul
because I was in Yowl
Ypres in first world war with the
Cursing my ALIEN Pedigree,
who left me alone,
on this hell like Land.
I was looking upward
so that with their power they would sight me ,
But I found N O T H I N G.
My eyes shed chemical tears
in the heart of ALIEN forefathers.
I am here
with the shade of my soul.
I was in their skin
searching my Pedigree
and found myself
and the shadow of my soul
A L I E N mongol
in the Central Library Srinagar.