Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

"Who Is Our Lord? "


They resented his words for he loathed you,
The heads of the crowd were smelling like nectar,
But we objected to the crassness of this somewhat
Lurid topic of discussion.

I have watched the witchcraft and the birthday,
I see music ready to roll down hills like water,
As the contests have been designed and won
After the crowds disperse in this rioting world.

Always the discussed one reads to us aloud,
Wearing us to the point of illness,
Like swearing masses and leadership of swearing
And lost reason, the understood one of this age.

They say he matters to the rich among us,
Between you and me he is a coward of
Vile munching, eating the foods and drinks
At everyone's expense.

Submitted: Monday, September 17, 2012
Edited: Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem ("Who Is Our Lord? " by Naveed Akram )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Stay not away, gajanan mishra
  2. Ah! Little Woodlouse - Are You Unreal?, Brian P FitzGerald
  3. You Will Always Learn, Naveed Akram
  4. What can I do, gajanan mishra
  5. Salvation, Uttam Biswas
  6. Morning Prayer, Brian P FitzGerald
  7. Ghost And..., John Ugolo Umah
  8. Mendel Anxiety, RISHAD MKPNR
  9. Beauty Falls..., John Ugolo Umah
  10. Flooded street, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]