These are a few of the poems that have been published previously by the PEN Pakistan Literary Journal
Words and Gestures
By Jocelyn Ortt-Saeed
You have taken me
out of my own time
out of time altogether-
away from the high speech
wept and sung
when lovers whisper "forever"
Then tongues grow free
seeking the word
to chant an old refrain
of time,
the moving image
of joy and of pain,
around the birth of being
where time-space
has no meaning
But we have grown in our vision
conversing
in timeless gestures,
walking the steps
of a measure
between forever and never
Cobwebs in Space
by Bushra Naqi
Spiders spinning webs
into old and derelict corners
into tempting skylines
ensnaring bygones, slithering
into the cemetery of time
Overhanging cobwebs
tantalizing in space
images playing havoc
with an imaginative mind
fantasy diving into archives
of folklore and myth
Lurking behind every cobweb
a liaison with deceit
luring the past
into the lair of contemporary time
with a new-fangled facade
tallying with the colloquial
A legacy ground in genealogy
refreshes itself thorough time
in traditions and mores
and sacrosanct beliefs
like the monument of the kings
will a charade perform
of the splendor of the pyramids
within whose eternity is interred
all that is hollow and ephemeral.
Words and Gestures
By Jocelyn Ortt-Saeed
You have taken me
out of my own time
out of time altogether-
away from the high speech
wept and sung
when lovers whisper "forever"
Then tongues grow free
seeking the word
to chant an old refrain
of time,
the moving image
of joy and of pain,
around the birth of being
where time-space
has no meaning
But we have grown in our vision
conversing
in timeless gestures,
walking the steps
of a measure
between forever and never
Cobwebs in Space
by Bushra Naqi
Spiders spinning webs
into old and derelict corners
into tempting skylines
ensnaring bygones, slithering
into the cemetery of time
Overhanging cobwebs
tantalizing in space
images playing havoc
with an imaginative mind
fantasy diving into archives
of folklore and myth
Lurking behind every cobweb
a liaison with deceit
luring the past
into the lair of contemporary time
with a new-fangled facade
tallying with the colloquial
A legacy ground in genealogy
refreshes itself thorough time
in traditions and mores
and sacrosanct beliefs
like the monument of the kings
will a charade perform
of the splendor of the pyramids
within whose eternity is interred
all that is hollow and ephemeral.
Gratitude and Bliss
By Syeda Henna Babar Ali
I am away from you—
God wants to grow the distance—
I try to serve Him—
I submit and surrender
He teaches me to
Give up my will and accept
All He gives with gratitude
There is no one else in my life--- --- ---
I flow with Him and
The power of His presence
Overpowers me.
When He calls,
I submit and bow my head in prayer.
He is the ultimate giver, best friend,
Permanent companion and Beloved---
He folds me in His mantle,
It wraps around me,
I grow, blossom in his love.
Ideology
By Razi Abedi
The clothes I wear are not mine
The house I live in doesn’t belong to me
Nor is this my native land
My clothes are from the landa
My house is an Evacuee
Property
And my nation! Well nationalism
Is against my religion
Since we do not trade in idols
We are iconoclast
My ancestors were so excitable
The blood of foes and friends
So they were called men of blood
But their blood does not run
In my veins
In them there runs petrol, petrol dollars.
In my veins circulates
Arab chauvinism and
Jewish greed
I live on interest
And pay my Zakat.
Beholding Stillness
By M. Salim-ur-rehman
A day of silence holding on to grief,
Divided into hours, the hours
Split into minutes, the minutes
Into seconds, unfaltering brilliance,
Scattered into smaller and smaller
Reckonings. Silence diminishing
Into grief or grief into silence.
All heard unheard. I turn a new leaf,
Mending the silence of the world
In a time of awakening, in a deep
Time of sleep, in a maturing of words.
How much more stillness can I bear?
Nothing seems to stir as the hours
Pass. Shadows and light sculpted
Into ruins of remembered
Unleavened days, unattended nights.
All I imagine to myself again,
The untouchable stillness existing
At each word’s core, the exact truth,
Beyond recount in its indefinitude
