Aftab Alam

Gold Star - 38,094 Points (15 th April 1967 / , , RANCHI,)

Mist


Am I a stupid flatterer or a poet?
Am I a courtier or a democrat?
As I breathe freely without help
So I write my own grief, without help

Many frustrated and cried, I know
For the name and fame and game
And those who acquired, I know
How steered the bout with helm

What language does have the pain?
I know who lays the egg, cock or hen
I haven’t seen the tears on the faces
I haven’t heard the cries of masses

I swam on their curious lovely puny eyes
Saw there in ocean, the motley of sighs’
When all the eyes had a hope of surprise
Then I myself became the eyes and raise

Though I know path is thorny
Yet I bleed from heart through my foot
It sounds unpleasant and irony
All think, from flower, me a shoot

Submitted: Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Edited: Thursday, September 05, 2013

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Comments about this poem (Mist by Aftab Alam )

  • Silver Star - 9,695 Points Heather Wilkins (6/13/2013 8:15:00 PM)

    your last stanza is a perfect ending to your poem nicely written (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 267 Points David Wood (6/1/2013 10:52:00 AM)

    We are all but flowers blowing in the wind. A good write Aftab. (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 17,372 Points Valsa George (5/30/2013 11:05:00 PM)

    A note of melancholy hovers over like mist and you speak through the language of pain! So the poem leaves a tugging effect! ! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 415 Points Yasmeen Khan (5/30/2013 1:32:00 AM)

    Pains and cries unexpressed and feelings not communicated are the subject of you poem. You are raising their voice. a good empathetic composition. (Report) Reply

  • Bronze Star - 2,675 Points Wahab Abdul (5/29/2013 10:49:00 PM)

    excellent write. enjoyed it fully and i am totally with Fara while assessing the poem....10 (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 208 Points R.j. Wynn (5/29/2013 12:30:00 PM)

    I hear you tiny shoot! How can you not be loved? (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 12 Points Farah Ilyas (5/29/2013 11:36:00 AM)

    All think, from flower, me a shoot..this verse shows your uniqueness,
    Though I know path is thorny
    Yet I bleed from heart through my foot
    It sounds unpleasant and irony....elaborate that you are enough brave to raise your voice for truth even in the hard tribulation & trials..
    What language does have the pain? ....shows that you are sobbing & crying inside..
    When all the eyes had a hope of surprise
    Then I myself became the eyes and raise...
    amazing lines to motivate us that still hope is there, so keep hoping & don't let grief to spoil you....excellent. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 175 Points Vizard Dhawan (5/29/2013 10:32:00 AM)

    nice poem
    do read mine too (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 27,404 Points Gajanan Mishra (5/29/2013 8:38:00 AM)

    nothing to grief so long as hope is there, good write, thanks.
    Please read my new poems and comment and vote. (Report) Reply

Read all 9 comments »

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