Shez Mingled In Me

Poem By Khurshid Alam

I worship the prophetess of love
beauty, majesty, glory, and desire -
she is the sublime of all arts.

Smitten by her beauty I kissed
on her forehead: she taught me
to read her as I do the Bible.

Opiated by her aroma
I touched her skin pink
soft and so affectionate: she sedated
me and I bowed my head low.
She was the epitome of glory
I fumbled on her body with crave:
she admired my humbleness.
I sought solace in her lap
and went in a trance:
she was out of breath and could teach me
no ahead.
Finally she surrendered. She deigned.
She could spell no word
except she gave me a blink or two.
She crept into me and vanished
Now I smell she, I wine she
I’ve made an idol of her and sing a hymn to her daily.

Published in the book titled An Anthology of Contemporary Love Poems edited by Rohitash Chandra & Ed Coet

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A Drop Of Dew

A dropp of dew can enliven
the thirsty buds
can cause a new life
can create a reason.

The Mysterious Man

My mother scoffed at us for ours no fault
She had put sweets from offerings in a box
To distribute the sacred eating equally among us all:
“All should have equal favour”, she taught.

An Inclusive India

Ajnabi is registered a Christian at school
And bargains exemption of fee by half
And all miscellanies full; and sings hymns
To Jesus and celebrates Christmas.

In Disguise

They take shelter in the auto rickshaws
in the daylight and sit in much calm
in much commune with the police on patrol
and invite the passers-by at Laldarwaza.

I’m Slave To Myself

I’m slave to myself.
I’m slave to my desire:
My desire is boundless.
I’m slave to my fantasy:

Weave Dreams Into Act

We sleep to dream
We sleep to dreams
We wake to act
We wake to facts.