Biography of Naveed Akram
I am called a poet and also a learner of other people's poems. I read extensively, with an enthusiasm for fantasy role-playing, and science-fiction. I write in these genres.
By the way I beckon you to my new published book, 'My Thoughts', a general poetry book that may enlighten you.
Naveed Akram's Works:
- Glanced At The Night -new-
- Talons Of Terror -new-
- Peace Of The Night -new-
- Longest Friends -new-
- I Thought The Spirit -new-
- Smaller Artifice -new-
- For The Heavens -new-
- Monochrome Landscape -new-
- Rainy Task -new-
- My Dying Plant -new-
- Man Of Avarice -new-
- The Bath Of Babies -new-
- Softened Voice -new-
- Blood Of Eternity -new-
Naveed Akram Poems
For Every Storm
For every storm there is a room And find the palace now, From deserts are a tomb and gloom, Where clothes must just allow.
To slump and slay shall be the decision, To get the rest needs rest itself, as the basket Is carried by the limped workers. Sleep pokes at you from the higher reaches,
With other people the system collapses, She heard the dialling tone confirming that; One phone demands a tragedy, And the other phone a remedy.
Taste Of Food
In food is a certain quality of taste, May they abstain and be erased. For food manages my godly life, Just as the fish manage with strife.
He has a fighting-chance of working with his figment, The figment he remembers for all his long-term memory. A field of ingoing thoughts waits to be proclaimed, The jeep of all worries is in his whole span of life.
“Ghosts are for the telling”
Ghosts are for the telling, We call them experts and impressive, As more of them appear from the woods.
Stones of the future are like diamonds, Glistening in the moonlight of our wishes; Youth will be harder still until the world has ended, My hard stones are like a conquest of a kingdom,
The Animal and the Plant
The animal has a name of wonder, A plant may never attack a wonder, For the body of an animal is taking the plant, And bodies are getting bigger
A Couple Needs Space
Force the two of them, a couple of travellers, To seek the ends of the universe, In search of treasure that is appealing, The very jewels most sparkling and bright like stars.
A volume speaks of divine actions and rigorous mathematics Of the soul as a light of heaven. A book reads of writing and matter of energy, of work And the studies binding us in flames and ruination, of pleasure.
A Blow of Cruelty
Many do interest their talents, Whilst some do sacrifice their life. Many do automatically pull the punch, When others just receive the blow.
Hastened by the cold is winter dealing swiftly with denial, Hatred forces mildly, hinting at mortuaries, and graves. Heaving in tatters, filling the ambition, having awkward goals, When does heaven display a folding and sorting of goals?
I am not blushing due to my home, In this structure I do live. This home is a scent and sense, A link to the outside.
I live among the world’s animals, Unlike them, I stare and gaze at the stars; I love the animals inhabiting this planet Like the stars that shine in the galaxy.
Some of us will hurt of the inferior people,
Any of the people whose violence is solid,
And very many years are forgotten of summer,
And so much has everything in spring,
And so many have a generation in winter,
Because the Autumn is superior.