|
AFZAAL NAVEED |
|
An Insane man on street
Standing alone
Upon un-known feet
With eyes turned
away from scene
Scene of being and
well being not nothingness
Gripped tightly
by a trance
Indulging with in
himself
With an un-self
Deep down waves of
his waters
Bring un-usual
tides
Converting in
abrupt singing
With an imaginary
microphone in hands
He shouts
self-written verses
Self imagined
lines of poetry
Street poetry,
which is dying
He starts dancing
with
Rhythm of oceans
and who knows rhythm
Does not matter
Trees waited
impatiently
Of his
abstractions and
Illusions made him
unworthy but more---
More reliable he
could not have been
He was paying his
bills to nature
Blood was running
But heat got never
produced
This was image of
an insane man in street with dignity of
Non-being
capturing with hid foolish enthusiasm
No one even a
writer could face
|
|
|
