vision so vital
to all a poet is;
silent beauty whispers
its miracles only
to those listening.

the poet cursed
with eyes and ears
the clamor of
a living, dying world
inundates
their soul

finding refuge
from the deluge
in a quiet stream of stanzas

never realizing the blessing
of the eye of the poet

until all the words have dried

Do you believe in destiny
that it’s not all a fluke
we’re living out a fantasy
from someone’s great big book

where everything has been scripted
written line by line
all that we have here gifted
ours, yours and mine

on paper with his pencils sharpened
the future he could see
but whatever it is that happened
you and I were meant to be

The water pump
Old, lonely and rusty
Standing as a minnow
Surrounded by giant trees
Yet firm
Un-threatened
Knowing,
That its connected
To the core of earth
Deeper than the roots of those giant trees.

The water pump!
Fetches the cold clean water
Right from the heart of earth
In the scorching heat,
To ease the thirst of needy.

That water pump!
Minnow yet tall!
Old yet lively!
Rusty yet running!
Lonely yet helping!

Sajjad Sarwar

Not everyone is Shakespeare, and even Shakespeare
Wasn't Shakespeare, until he was dead,
Which is quite sad.

a slip of the tongue
can betray your heart

make you regret
make you free

a slip of the tongue
can change everything