Thank you to the loveliest mothers and grandmother for taking the time to recite each poem, and embedding so much feeling into each word. And thank you to the dearest friends for sharing photos that helped bring a touch of serenity to this first volume of poetry selections. All your consideration, love, and support made this possible.
Migrant Serenade, Khaled Mattawa
We come to the city; we embrace the pantheon, but they dream of their one and only god. They want to be villagers again. Just when you begin to distinguish the sound of your history from its echo, they want to be villagers again. You must not kill their sacred animal; you must give up your taboo for theirs for they want to be villagers again. Sunlight and shadow is what made this rose, you say, a god who could not have arisen elsewhere but they want to be villagers again. The twist in your tongue is the river’s song. It’s how your feet walk now, how your fingers strum, but they want to be villagers again. The dusk of their coffee, their muddy water booze, the herb of life shooting out of the impeccable concrete, but they want to be villagers again. You point to salt escaping the sea’s hold— a vision of a tundra reclaiming the desiccated grass, but they want to be villagers again. You build terraces for the ancient woods to breathe, but haunted by maggots eating their dead bullock—the speed of light is always late—they’ve become villagers again.
Der-saver To Ho Jati Hai, Almas Shabi
Darvaze pe jo ankhein hain ankhon mei jo sapne hain un sapnon mei jo murat hai woh meri hai darvaze ke bahar kia hai ik rasta hai jis par meri yaadon ka shahr basa hai mera rasta dekhne wali un ankhon ka jaal bicha hai mujhe pata hai lekin un ankhon ko kaise mein ye baat bataun har raste pe itni bhiid chalna mushkil ho jaata hai awaazon ke iss jangal se bachna muskhil ho jaata hai dukh ka aisa lamha aata hai hasna mushkil ho jaata hai jab aise halat khade hon qadmon mein zanjir ki surat raushniyon ke saaey pade hon aise mein dil un ankhon se ek hi baat kahe jaata hai der-saver to ho jaati hai
mitti ki mohabbat mein ham ashufta-saron ne vo qarz utaare hain ki vajib bhi nahin thay
Iftikhar Arif
abhi tou ek watan chodd kar hi nikle hain hanuz dekhni baaqi hain hijraten kya kya
Saba Akbarabadi
Immigrant Song, Sun Yung Shin
All birds—even those that do not fly —have wings A constant confession Admission of omission This is your punctuated equilibrium And everything in between Slow it down The moment of extinction The death of the last individual of a species (Let's put it aside for now) Stay with it This is out gene flow How do you like our genetic drift A riff, a rift, a raft... Too rough for the second half Take us under, take us downhill Paint pangenesis all over your dancing body The new party god Keep the beat going, don't stop, you can't stop Crick & Watson Evo-devo This is your mother's local phenomenon If this is racial hygiene Why do I feel so dirty? Microcosmic soul It's an involuntary wonderland This living matter A modern synthesis 4.6 billion years of biology Can't stop the ideology Graduate from meet/mate To fitness landscape of sexual selection From land over sea It's a hard lyric The impression of a key in a bar of soap A transitional fossil Keep camping Plant the flag Bury the burial mound Put the pop in popular And the sigh in science
Hamesha Der Kar Deta Hun, Muneer Niazi
Hamesha der kar data hun mein har kaam karne mei zaruri baat kehni ho, koi waada nibhana ho usse awaaz deni ho, usse wapas bulana ho hamesha der kar deta hun mei madad karni ho, uss ki yaar ki Dharas bandhana ho bohot derina raston par kisi se milne jaana ho hamesha der kar deta hun mei badalte mausamon ki sair mei dil ko lagana ho kisi ko yaad rakhna ho, kisi ko bhuul jaana ho hamesha der kar deta hun mei kisi ko maut se pehle kisi gham se bachana ho haqiqat aur thi kuch uss ko ja ke batana ho hamesha der kar deta hun mei har kaam karne mei
paani mei aks aur kisi asmaan ka hai ye naav kaun si hai ye dariya kahan ka hai
Ahmad Mushtaq
mein kya janun gharon ka haal kya hai mein saari zindagi bahar raha hun
Ameer Qazalbash
Migration, Ana Božičević
I never want to get any More new things. I wanna wear out these shoes white And walk on the rug till it's perfectly Colorless To wear the shoes dark Walking on an abyss that's been worn out The shoes carry me, I can’t help it, I fly above the desert with no name
A Poem for Maheen, Nighat Mutahir Husain
Saheli ho, paheli ho, kia jurwa behen ho meri? ye nata kesa nata hai muhabbet ka, hilawat ka, ye bachpan ki rafaqat ka jo hum ne khel khele thay, jo ghar hum ne banale thay jo guriyan hum banatey thay, unhe phir hum behatey thay jo hunt-kuliyan pakatey thay mazey le le ke khaatey thay kabhi picnic pe jaate thay, kabhi peron pe charhte thay jo gir parte thay aksar, zor ki chotein bhi khaatey thay magar hum mukuratey thay, aur wok rassi ko pakar kar kuudna bhi yaad hai tum ko? woh pithoo khelna, woh hopscotch kuch yaad hai tum ko? woh cricket match per jaana woh zoo ki ser ko jaana ijazat agar mile ammi ko, tou phir film par jaana woh pedal baten karte, khelte, school ko jaana woh tooti phooti English bol kar khud ji ko behlana mujhe malum na tha yesterday guar hua kal hai tomorrow keh dia uss ko, ab jeena mera mushkil hai mujhe kitna sataya sab ne mil kar yaad hai tum ko? woh mera mun chupana sharam se sab yaad hai mujh ko na koi fikr lahaq thi na gham sayaaj na thay hum tumhe kese bataon ke hum iss qadar uddaas hain Nighat ye yaadein, uff ye yaadein maar dalen gi usse shayad
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