From Political Paradise Poem by Naveed Akram

From Political Paradise



I madden the mothers of dreamscapes,
They feel at ease after the hard pressure,
Coloured pictures of modelled clay
Bruise the skin when abetted.
I madden the blindness, offering some who speak
The common tongue, a red horn or borrowed
Spring from Paradise.
This day, a dreaded letter is at stake
In the council of ministers,
Each has pay, each carries a weight
To be alive in the mocking season.

Mothers and fathers breathe and last with
Their ears at listening to the various trends
Of this society, mother and father of mine
Will abstain from ministry,
Mother will spare the infantry,
When father foregoes the whole summer
Without my wedding with lightening
And thunder.

Politics is a cigarette of finality,
Space and time authors the book
We envelop with hands and read.
Finally, we see the meaning of desire,
The desire is supposed to breathe.

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Naveed Akram

Naveed Akram

London, England
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