I Hate Peace On The Lap Of Poverty Poem by Aftab Alam

Although I am made up of simple mud,
Yet I am not simply dried brick-a fire thud,
I'm brick of poverty furnace traveler,
Rain can't weaken me, can't destroy me,
Rain makes me strong; I am rain absorber

Kiln of life for me; the dusty rusty clay's boon
I am not so excited; I do not swoon, so soon
I need more rain, more rain to sock and sock,
Hardness: to bear life's ugliest joke without shock,

I hate peace on the lap of poverty
Day and night cannot walk together
Eradication of poverty is the liberty
I know puppet dance; don't teach hereafter?

My laugh is the dirtiest spit on your cruel face,
My laugh is but giggle from the wriggling mind
Of mine, wiggling whisper from heart to mind-find
You have made hell to this earth with boldness-confess

Ney! Heaven's sake, don't preach peace- no, no,
Truth can't be described with lie -please go, go,


©2014 Aftab Alam Khursheed. All rights reserved