I am a poet.
Up there on that hill
There’s a thatched house with eves
I know; there he lives.
Near the door there is a sill,
Sat whole night talking with stars,
Nay; sorry, hope with heaven
Without any break, full seven
Pigeons sleep fearlessly,
Room inside remained dark,
Outside a burning boom,
Viewers say he lies over the house.
I have seen his unmoved eyes
Over the skies!
During the day
Pigeons with gay
Dance and sing round the sill
Thousands of pigeon on that hill
Live in that house
No rain rained ever upon him
Water in the pitcher always up to brim
A miracle of miasma
Blurs eyes, a charisma
What you see that may be a maze
Unseen is seen through the haze
Pangs of lost vision we face
Blindness can’t lose the vision
Vision is lost humanity dies
What is the use of the eyes?
If it can’t perceive, can’t realize///
Aftab Alam's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (I am a poet. by Aftab Alam )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Sorry I came but I must come, Victor Cruickshank
- Accepting You, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- No Survivors, Victor Cruickshank
- Accumulation Of Essence, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- When, Victor Cruickshank
- Growth and Change, Victor Cruickshank
- A Class to Remember, Victor Cruickshank
- Dedication, Victor Cruickshank
- On his greatness, Laxman Rao
- Frankenstein, Victor Cruickshank