By Aamir Aziz
Beware of the feats of a veteran clown incognito
Who is a myopic judge and underfed humped gambler
Convention, foresight, love and reason are whose cosmetic hues.
He is a royal merchant whose ship capsized along the shore
He is a serpent, a thief, an alligator and a sage behind single visage
His gadgets have varied standards
Builds shrines for the dead and spoils the living
Lacks sight and pretends insight
With a storm in his head, his manifesto is the same
Behold his hurried acceptance of crushing defeat
The authorities look at their brainchild aghast
A diseased, incorrigible and humble puppet of sand
A self-mocking savage, a lip-tight icon
A drowning carcass, an exhausted hound.
Vain glorious idolater, blind to the apex threads.
Wages war and signs the armistice in the same breath
A spoiled child, whose morals vary across the frontiers.
A mysterious vase, a beauty without truth
Toppled numerous gods for his personal throne
His infinite prophetic flights bear true witness to his godly genius
But his doglike ambush attacks on the left over, deny this claim.
A Stone, who has set ablaze his credentials of innocence
He is a poor mercenary pawn and a chessman simultaneously.
Such a notorious and familiar stranger he is and still at large.
May he be residing in your heart, arrest him and undress him.
***
"Endangered Species of our Honest Goldsmith"
By Aamir Aziz
A semi barbarian in a civilized society
Whose unacknowledged magnified tears at times
Provide mute testimony to your abject disregard for him
His idiosyncrasies do sound awkward to your novice ears
When he intervenes the self-nurtured riots of warring ideas
While joining the battle as an equal but separate combatant
And thence embracing his martyrdom in the same bloodshed
He constitutes his theology by drinking ,
the essence of venomous fruit of life in one gulp.
Knits the fine fabric of notions and ideologies
With the most precious silk of verbosity.
His terse though tentative tickling with words and sounds
Occasionally engages him in self torturing skirmishes of beliefs and faiths
His wails and groans escape your notice in the times of your affluence
And in adversity he laughs at, but not with you.
When hegemonies meet with united resistance,
He voices the slogans of the leftists.
Who dares stop him from lashing out whips of reproach
On those who make man bow before man.
Via the ladder of fancy,
He ceases virginity of all organic and celestial secrets.
His intellectual somersaults lend proverbial charm to commonalities.
Is he still barbarian, liar and whimsical in your civilized society?
Where he mocks at those who play a play within a play.
While unleashing all curtains which separate man from man.
Though he is not fortune�s favourite,
He belongs to that class of humanity
Who lend eternal ingredients to their soils.
***
"Whom Do They Offend?"
By Aamir Aziz
I have witnessed holy love
between flowers and the sun
and self annihilation
of sacred caterpillars,
in honour of the candle flame.
This lends due veneration
of light to my spirits,
but where should i seek this light
in these modern exploits?
Our pygmy stalwarts turn
all worshippers to their track,
every ignorant pilgrim
visits their furnished temples.
Aloof, stands the clayed cottage
of the dustman,
which shakes and cracks
with their boastful stares on every turn.
his eyes flush and his heart gushes with blood
at this difference, but mental peace
and satisfaction with his daily wages pacify him.
He knows the secrets of dust and decay
and the skills of Pioneer Potter, whose viceroy
he is, and in his vexat! ion lies His displeasure.
That is why I don't bow before these
nervous torch bearers, for love thrives on honesty,
purity and truth of each partner.
***
"Funeral of Innocence"
By Aamir Aziz
an overwhelming pathos becomes impetus to this anthem of lament
I am an innocent dove, imploring for regain of my lost dynasty
where I laid eggs and my new ones opened their eyes.
An unknown apprehension of kites and falcons
led to the most irretrievable blunder on my part.
I reared a gluttonous serpent for guard of my best legacy.
It was nourished with the best of my daily findings.
Time passed and the count of my ova went down,
and so was with my offspring, just stains of blood remained.
Blame was laid on the vultures and their assaults,
and hence it placed an excuse for its inevitable stay.
The thought of migration stung me, since I loved my haven
a time came when I was declared an outcast from my heaven.Why to express regrets for the nest when the tenants are gone!
Would that I had an eye to see through the common heresy and superstition.
On a bare shoot, I just flutter and weep over my folly.
***
"Anarchy Across Eyelids"
By Aamir Aziz
The fringes of subjectivity
Would last so short, I knew not
When a sudden gloat annulled my teeming youth
And buried under mud
The adolescent contours of my mind.
A veiled face with mere eyes uncouched
Revealed upon me
A perverse public insistence on hide and resign
And to condemn the natural against the prevalent.
While for me that was a precise pilgrimage
To the anarchic but quiet lands
Where words revealed and words concealed,
Where suppressed and unrequited emotions sought asylum
That one moment
Dwarfed the gist of clerics' vociferous sermons
And invigorated my vision
To witness forbidden aspects and clues
And sailed me across fluffy robes of restraint
Exposing her flawed mimicry of an alien soul
Whom she opted at the expen! se of her own self.
A stir terminated our converse through stares
And subdued two objective souls
To rot in their gray heavens of chastity, once more.
You may call this love, lust, lechery or insanity
But this would ever remain unquenched
Had that face been bare and naked,
Since suspense and mystery carve beauty jointly.
***
"Megalomania"
By Aamir Aziz
We bid farewell to these inhabitants of sandcastles
Who are the confessed impotent guides of the virgin heads
These professed vanguards of justice, order and parity
Who always stand condemned by their own contradictions
Whose verdicts make even the foxes hide in disguise
The drunken bulls forget their ferocity on seeing their villainy
Lunatic architects, who make a monument and destroy it in the end.
Pity for these famine-struck patronizers of the sparkling regiments
For whom the whole ration is their solo morsel
Always widening the gulf between their sayings and deeds
And becoming elated by ethereal pride in their ignorance
Preaching worship of the omnipotent in heaven,
And themselves behaving like a sinister deity on land
Oblivious of the approaching storm of acrimony, apathy and revolt
Which can reduce these airy fortresses to the! ir shameful shrines
Alas! Fortune weeps over them and future puts a curse on them
And we bid farewell to these white-skinned one-eyed bearded fiends.
***
"An Unsung North Western Cowboy"
By Aamir Aziz
He bears fiery arrows of sarcasm on his bare bold bosom,
for his willing ignorance of worldly wisdom and morals.
He is the best entertainer of the escapists.
Follows the route of fragrance during his maniac roaming.
Free from all cares, the sole owner of his echoing kingdom.
The whole valley is his beloved, who does not flirt.
His romance grows manifold through generous reciprocity.
He is a penniless sanguine millionaire,
Whose permanent guests are four lively seasons.
Who are welcomed with unaffected smiles and cheers.
He understands the language of serene silence,
Which discloses the secrets of sanctity of human existence.
Undergoes a torture of heart, soul and mind.
And forgets the cohesion between his flesh and soul.
In deep reverence, a conversation develops and the boredom of sin is gone.
And hence this poor pagan becomes a moral legislator via purgation.
What did you infer ! from your Catholicism and Protestantism,
your busy industry and sceptic prostrations?
Lo another sage enjoys eternal sleep as an unsung hero,
and hovering clouds, rushing springs and melodious roosters whisper through his immortal ears.
***
"Capital Punishment"
By Aamir Aziz
Simple it seems but complex it is
Collection of inspired follies for some, a challenge for others
A story without a title, a journey without destination
A prolonged joke for some, a momentary pause for others
Starts as a friend and deceives as a foe
A bed of roses for some, an unending marathon for others
A frank deceiver, a bargainer who always won
A loose structure incident for some, a nightmare for others
Yesterday, today, tomorrow and so on . . .
meaningful nonsense for some, a tense snare for others
Philosophers� ever green question and historians� foster child
An equivocal notion for some, a plausible interlude for others
Real it seams but dramatic it is
A mirage in the desert for some, a concrete impression for others
A meaningless enigma, a purposeless clamour, understood by none
Still�.an optimistic wait for some, a detestable weight for others