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 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
In the cameo of twilight
I embrace the chair
And sit near the window
And the bench sparkles
That gave me light
Though she was gone
Like a meteor in the mist.
I remember when the bench
Was an altar and we would
Sacrifice the hours
To get contenment
And it was there
Spilling over
And flowing down the hands.
I remember the bench
The concert of my song
On her lips and
The parrots trying
To surpass hers
From the swinging cradle
Over our cool heads.
I remember the bench
Where we had discussed
The life that is just prose
And the croaking in the pond
And finally we had made up
Our minds to weave our moments
Like the strings in a guitar.
The bench I remember
Is the souvenir to my soul.
It is the beginning of Endymion.
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
Whenever
Prose is on the verge of fall to the ground
Poetry does the work of a family member
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
Lynching is justice in the court of mob.......
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
kkk
Metaphor is the boat that floats on water but carries one into the sky...
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
Idiom is beautiful topaz
Shining in a rosary of words...........
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
The fish knows the depth of the sea
It doesn't Walk outside
 Jul 2017
Mohd Arshad
Wishing
Is legal

And accepting something
Against it

Is getting
Another wish legalised
 Jul 2017
Born
Sometimes I write words that I think are perfect and mighty

but when I read your words ,they ******* me ,they make me feel like a nonsense trying to make sense

They make me Wonder, why should i call  me a poet
With words that don't rhyme  
or flow

But again I believe that this words are perfect and mighty
they gave me hope
I found peace whenever I wrote them
I floated like a feather and forgot my permanent scars
with these words am a Knight and a hero
what are you with your words
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
They do say
the world is hanging
on the wire like a droplet!

Scheme of things of God
Face criticism
from those foolish minds
Who can't create
Even a single particle of dust
Or a particular piece of hair
Thought they rejoice and pride
In their successful science

No water in the blank future.
What an amazing irony.

People float on water
And it carries them
off the shore
Houses capsize in the lanes
And the elephants
keep sleeping

It is superstition

In the park
The grass wears
a new dress
With embroidery
of white pearls
The sparrows play and hop
On the shoulders
of young twigs
And the lizards slide
Down the backs of trees

Each day
I watch all these paintings
When it is sparkle here
And when it is dust

Why are all these happening?
Is it too superstition?

Nobody knows
When God
will stop sending
Infants and Joeys
Down the earth

At the moment
Things are happening
In their own way

Say the world
Is the biggest Everest
Say it is unshakeable
Without His behest
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