Fragments, not a Meal |
by Rehan Qayoom

Who thinks mostly of his observance of breathing than his actual breathing? Takes a glimpse 
at her photograph and then quickly puts it away. Stuck with a hasp of deadlier gloom than 
death – Can it bring delight?

I found nowhere to sit and read 
Your chapter on the life of Bede
The ground of Oxford Street reveals
What deeds of daring do go on beneath those heels
Laziness is white and pretty
London, you mock-savage city
Had we met in a way more real
Would we have felt what we feel?
So off to bed and up at 9!
I'll dream all night that you were mine
Or off to kip to wake at 10!
Begin another day - Again!

If it's true we're born in sin
Open yourself and let me in!

Obliged to live his life in limbo
The forlorn poet
Forgot he was sane
So wrote in gibberish across the window-pane

O what enchanting eyes you have
How magical a smile
Your ruddy hair sets hearts on fire
Oh your funky drunky style
Just hold my hand - Look in my eyes - Say nothing all the while
You will never not be dearer - To me nearer nearer setting
Roses all aflame
For the vision’s ever clearer – It’s a chilly wind that blows!
Love me as I am –

Rehan Qayoom is a poet, editor and translator from London.  He writes poetry in both English and Urdu and his work has featured in numerous literary publications and anthologies.  He is also available for interviews.