Poems by Ayub Khawar
When Did You Fathom This
Just at a hand’s distance
From the pores of the sky
Countless stars descend
On the mud and concrete roofs,
Straw beds and pillows made from slumber
Eyes full with sleep
Glitter in the constellation of stars.
When did you see,
In the streets
On the roof tops
Of dust coloured settlements,
How the cluster of stars comes down,
From the unseen stairs of blackness
Tiptoeing around the cots
Like secrets moving,
Like the breath moves on the
Chest of snober.
Have you ever desired
To come out of dim light lantern
Lift your heels
And reach out for stars
And fill your bag.
We used to do this
Lift our heels
And fill a bulk of stars
In our shirts,
The one whose shirt would rip apart
Stars would laugh.
Yes, but you would
With dazed eyes
Cluster of stars,
You must be wondering
It’s a dream
One day you’ll have to paint this.
In the fate of city dwellers
There is no sky
Which they think is a sky on their heads
Is a cup of dust,
Neither straight nor upside down
You have seen the sky for the first time
From the mud and hard rooftops
Surrounded by grey walls.
Another Poem Between Me And My Poem
In the yellow muddled morn,
Thinking of waking up,
From the green sleep,
To place the bowl of dream,
At the threshold of sun
The day breaks,
Then I leave the bed recollecting the courage,
To pull up the stone of day,
On the top of evening,
And fill up the lunch-box,
With a hope to accomplish,
All that is necessary but half-done duties,
As soon as I step out the threshold,
I and my route go somewhere else asunder.
The sight of thoughtful eyes,
Astray in the lonesomeness of noon,
In the empty street,
At the road-crosses,
Then in silence-assumed,
Horrified drab houses enfolded,
With ragged, sharp edges bricks,
Squeezed within their own selves,
Dazzles with shine of some impossibility
From all directions.
The black moments, from head to toe,
Chain the heart with some nameless fear,
While walking onward,
The route vanishes itself,
I go somewhere else,
And thoughts go astray somewhere else.
The evening devoid of stars,
Honked by the troops of darkness,
From all directions,
Force it to the canopy of my heart;
Terror of lances, daggers, swords, shields
Blow out the glow of eyes
As harsh wind does
In such darkness
A hand cannot feel the other,
Myself terrifies me,
Pulsation breaks from the heart,
And becomes a frozen drop of blood.
In such frozen darkness the collection of words,
Stringed on the cord of pain shatters,
I go somewhere else,
Lines of the poem go astray somewhere else.
Between me and my poem,
The lonesomeness sinking in the marshes,
Of day and night,
In the abyss of my inner self,
Fragrance sprouting from the tree of pang,
Doesn’t get the passage,
And enters through the arches of my chest.
A breath comes and the other goes,
And to this chain of breaths,
This fragrance perfumes to the gusts of pain
Adorns loneliness with gems of dew,
Hanging on the lashes,
Then strikes a stone of the yellow morn,
Upon my torso through the windows,
Of green sleep,
In such a way as I roll down somewhere else,
The poem goes astray somewhere else.