A Poem Dedicated To My Murderer
If you strike a dagger in my chest
Do ponder
Air has no body.
Air is flow
Of running seas of life
It's a long story
Which has no beginning
And no end.
If you strike a dagger in my chest
Do ponder
Air is immortal
Air is mother's pat
Air is sound of a lullaby
Air is a prayer
Out of the mouth of babes!
(1983, Translated by Samina Amjad)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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How Good Was Youth!
Thru the jungle of your sleep
I had a passage of my dreams
You had a bookish face
I had a school bag in my hand.
(Translated by Samina Amjad)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Dagger Through The Heart
(Dolly Parton)
Oh, you're out there tonight with another
And my pain is so dreadfully sharp.
I picture you with her and shudder,
It's like a dagger through the heart
Do you think that my feelings don't matter,
Or your cheatin' or hurtful remarks
When you leave me all broken and shattered
It's like a dagger through the heart
Oh, I know I'm a fool to keep stayin'
When you've made hurtin' me such an art,
Tossed around like a used box of crayons,
It's like a dagger through the heart
Oh, you cut me to pieces so often
Like a knife or a poisonous dart
I would be better off in my coffin,
It's like a dagger through the heart
Oh, I know I'm a fool to keep stayin'
When you've made hurtin' me such an art,
Tossed around like a used box of crayons,
It's like a dagger through the heart
Like a dagger through the heart, through the heart
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desire Blooming On Air-Creeper Of Sleeplessness
Let me sleep
Centuries old deep
And long sleep
Devoid of any dream.
Let me sleep
That girl's sleep
Who has forgotten her eyes
Into mine.
Let me sleep
The sleep of those
In whose eyes
Float clouds and birds
Rivers flow
Yet they remain parched.
Let me sleep
O, deserts surrounding my four sides!
There is an ocean in my heart
Let me sink all my dreams in it
Let me soak my thirsty lips
Let me weep!
Let me sleep!
(Translated by Samina Amjad)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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I Will Make Words Out Of Dreams
Look O, traveller
Before dying
Put your dreams
In the care
Of wind and water
I will make words out of dreams.
From the grime of your corpse
I will come to grow flowers!
(Translated by Samina Amjad)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Fuddy
On my room
To the floor bed...
I was tasted
With the
My girl friend
Chest bun...
Toung was play
Bun of chest...
Mouth wanted
Milk...
Not for the
Chest bun....
No weat
No sweet
No salt..
Not for the bun...
Meet taste
Vegtable taste
Also not ther;
Chest bun
Taste for
With big and
Beauty...! ! !
And fuddy
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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By All Means
By All Means
By: Adam M. Snow
By all means, I need to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
But though I still long for truth,
I long for those who's not uncouth.
By all means, I carried out to wonder,
when flesh and spirit sunder.
But in a world such as this,
dost Thou be amiss?
But I seek what Thou has in stored;
that statement of the Lord.
By all means, I wonder to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
Misery held me 'gainst my woes,
as if my life cease to flow.
But if it be the answer of my eternal quest,
nor any Death-but lest;
I accept the truth from Thee,
to where the Strong assure me.
I wage my life upon thy altar,
ponder here a time of falter;
I live to serve only Thee.
We think that we must be-
gods upon this earth.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Dolly Dagger
Here comes dolly dagger
Her loves so heavy, gonna make you stagger.
Dolly dagger, she drinks her blood from a jagged edge...
Been riding broomsticks since she was fifteen
Blow out all the other witches on the scene.
She got a bull whip, just as long as your life.
Her tongue can even scratch
The soul out of the devils wife.
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Fit
How many nails do I have to have
hammered into my brain to realise
we don't fit?
This liaison has always been flawed.
Gel, we never did, but we had passion.
A wealth of it.
Should I take this hammer
and strike the final blow?
I don't know.
Hammers strike memories,
as though they're all piano keys
and the sound is harsh..
They have me re-visiting old war wounds
that I should have buried years ago.
They are awakening.
They've been dormant for so long.
Maybe I should have one final strike
and put them to rest.
The trouble is, if I pick up the hammer
and strike the first blow,
I may never stop
poem by Ruth Walters
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Silver Dagger
Dont sing love songs
Youll wake my mother
Shes sleeping here right by my side
In her right hand is a silver dagger
She says that I cant be your bride
All men are fools
So says my mother
Theyll tell you again
Love and lies
And then theyll go
And court someother
Leave you alone to pine inside
My daddy is a handsome devil
Hes got a chain five miles long
On every link, a heart does dangle
Of another maid hes loved and wronged, ohhh
Go court another tender maiden
In hopes that she might be your wife
For Ive been warned so I decided
Ill sleep alone all of my life, ohh...
Beware, beware, a silver dagger
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tub Of Water
By the tub of water stands an object too frightening,
The steel dagger awaits bloody ruin from the majesty of evil;
Into the place we surrender our will to the enormity of disgust,
In this place of ruin we see everyday objects become murderous.
To the touch it seems a murder has been committed,
Blood is desired beyond the mirrors, beyond us.
I heard practically no sound, so astonished by the silence
I carried by own living body to the realm of the other side.
Camps of ruin, camps of blood were before me,
Antagonizing my brain and mind, my guts and feeling.
The tub of water vanished and became a tub of horror -
A monstrous man pushed up, with bloody wounds
And too many gashes to the skin, ripping apart now.
I had to disgust itself with my action,
I had to discuss with him his fate,
The fate I gave him, I never forgave him,
I hated his being with the dagger to release
Him, and me from the clutches of horror and blood.
The dagger is enough, it is enough
To employ in reducing the man,
The man who is now dead from the gashes,
The ones fresh from my dagger, the pouring blood
Is astounding, and filling the tub of water.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Chest
Chest, what power do thou h've?
That women place their heads on
men's when they're showing love
Chest, what charm do thou have?
That women take virtue of thee to pray
for their siblings that sucked their breasts
Chest, what spirit do thee have?
That women curse men with thee that
otherwise, if man didn't meet them chest to chest
Chest, what glory do thou h've?
That people beat you with palm
and swear
Chest, of what important is you?
That women knock their heads on
men's chest during the fighting
1983
The real struggle started in 1983,
And i know what i have been through so far;
Because life is not very smooth always.
Fear and anger,
Love and war!
And of the death-toll in the human race to ponder over,
But life is all about peace than war.
Humanised by the military forces,
And of my years in the bush;
But now i am back home to my roots,
And this struggle started in 1983.
Life was like the creative powers of the problems at hand,
But your love has no hiding place when it is time for war!
And like the mysterious murders around me.
I am trying to get to you,
But the wind of change had taken me so long! !
And there is no retrospect on this muse,
But i live to write out my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Do You Want To See The Bed In Flames?
(Translation To: Wollt Ihr Das Bett In Flammen Sehen?)
Do you want to see the bed in flames
do you want to perish in skin and hair
you want to stick the dagger in the sheet as well
you want to also lick the blood from the dagger
Rammstein
You see the crosses on the pillow
You mean the innocence may kiss you
You believe it would be hard to kill
But where are all of the dead coming from
Rammstein
Sex is a battle
Love is war
Do you want to see the bed in flames
do you want to perish in skin and hair
you want to stick the dagger in the sheet as well
you want to also lick the blood from the dagger
Rammstein
song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ignorance
‘Ignorance is bliss'
Ignorance is the hiss
Underneath the anticipation
Sprawled in your inebriation
It is the dagger pierced
In every chest it kissed
Ignorance is
The antithesis.
poem by Norman Santos
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PoppyCat
Inquisitive nature, that cat.
How very curious,
How simply luxurious.
Where is the well that your questions
come from, that they never cease
even while you rest,
Cat?
You ponder and feel your way
Even as you rest you get your way.
You ponder as I ponder Cat.
we aimlessly wander.
The Historian
He was a big name
Who had gained fame
As one of the “Kiplings”
Who said his hero was brave
Who said his hero was burdened
Who said he had conquered
Who said he had captured
Who snatched my last weapon
My home made dagger
With handle of bone
Beads of silver
Who said
This was my honor
Who then said
I had a bitter fight
For him the cursed dagger
When snatched back
Eye to eye
He knew
Who shall have the last breath
I remember
The dagger of my fore fathers
You collected
As recovered
I did not recount the bravery
Of my heroes
They stand fallen
As you held the pen
23/1/2010
Islamabad
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Et Tu?
The Ides of March had come
but its Sun was not yet cold
when Spurinna reminded me
what his augury had foretold
Some good men tried to warn me
About the risks I take-
But Caesar has no need of guards
I look Death in the face.
Calpurnia asked me not to go
Based on her silly dream
But the Parthian war won’t be derailed
By some Republican’s scheme
The supplicants surround me with petitions,
Bur I, impatient, moved to turn away.
Casca grabbed the draping of my toga
and bared me, awkwardly, to start the fray.
The first dagger found my flesh
and left a superficial wound.
I wrested the dagger from his hands
and swept the blade to clear some room.
They are too many that surround me.
Too many of their thrusts strike home
Brutus my son, “Et Tu, Brute”
I cover my face to die alone.
Bleeding, powerless, dying,
No one must see me as I lay.
My dignity must be preserved
for I am uncommon clay.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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When you sleep
When you sleep
with your head on my chest,
I do not know
why the gods chose me
to be such a lucky man.
Sometime somewhere destiny
prepared you for me
and at times,
I wish that I could have
met you much sooner.
When you smile in your sleep,
I ponder on what you dream
and at times it is as if
we have been together,
in another life and time and place.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mother is the most beautiful person in the Earth.
Mother's laugh is the most pleasant breeze.
Mother's tear is the softest dagger that pierces the heart into pieces.
Loss of mother is an unfilled gap in life!
Sasikala Kamandula in None (14 January 2024)
Submitted by Sasikala Kamandula
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Le Possédé (The Possessed)
Le soleil s'est couvert d'un crêpe. Comme lui,
Ô Lune de ma vie! emmitoufle-toi d'ombre
Dors ou fume à ton gré; sois muette, sois sombre,
Et plonge tout entière au gouffre de l'Ennui;
Je t'aime ainsi! Pourtant, si tu veux aujourd'hui,
Comme un astre éclipsé qui sort de la pénombre,
Te pavaner aux lieux que la Folie encombre
C'est bien! Charmant poignard, jaillis de ton étui!
Allume ta prunelle à la flamme des lustres!
Allume le désir dans les regards des rustres!
Tout de toi m'est plaisir, morbide ou pétulant;
Sois ce que tu voudras, nuit noire, rouge aurore;
II n'est pas une fibre en tout mon corps tremblant
Qui ne crie: Ô mon cher Belzébuth, je t'adore!
The One Possessed
The sun was covered with a crape. Like him,
Moon of my life! swathe yourself with darkness;
Sleep or smoke as you will; be silent, be somber,
And plunge your whole being into Ennui's abyss;
I love you thus! However, if today you wish,
Like an eclipsed star that leaves the half-light,
To strut in the places which Madness encumbers,
That is fine! Charming poniard spring out of your sheath!
Light your eyes at the flame of the lusters!
Kindle passion in the glances of churls!
To me you're all pleasure, morbid or petulant;
Be what you will, black night, red dawn;
There is no fiber in my whole trembling body
That does not cry: 'Dear Beelzebub, I adore you!'
— Translated by William Aggeler
The Possessed
The sun in crepe has muffled up his fire.
Moon of my life! Half shade yourself like him.
Slumber or smoke. Be silent and be dim,
And in the gulf of boredom plunge entire;
I love you thus! However, if you like,
Like some bright star from its eclipse emerging,
To flaunt with Folly where the crowds are surging —
Flash, lovely dagger, from your sheath and strike!
Light up your eyes from chandeliers of glass!
Light up the lustful looks of louts that pass!
Morbid or petulant, I thrill before you.
Be what you will, black night or crimson dawn;
No fibre of my body tautly-drawn,
But cries: 'Beloved demon, I adore you!'
— Translated by Roy Campbell
The Possessed
The sun in crepe has muffled up his fire.
Moon of my life! Half shade yourself like him.
Slumber or smoke. Be silent and be dim,
And in the gulf of ennui plunge entire;
I love you thus! However, if you like,
Like some bright star from its eclipse emerging,
To flaunt with Folly where the crowds are surging -
Flash, lovely dagger, from your sheath and strike!
Light up your eyes from chandeliers of glass!
Light up the lustful looks of louts that pass!
Morbid or petulant, I thrill before you.
Be what you will, black night or crimson dawn;
No fibre of my body tautly drawn,
But cries: 'Beloved demon, I adore you!'
Translated by Anonymous
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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