POETS' CORNER

Poets on poetry

Margaret Atwood

'The genesis of a poem for me is usually a cluster of words. The only good metaphor I can think of is a scientific one: dipping a thread into a supersaturated solution to induce crystal formation. I don=t think I solve problems in my poetry; I think I uncover the problems.'

Percy Bysshe Shelley

'Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.'

Sylvia Plath

'Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You=ve got to go so far so fast in such a small space; you=ve got to burn away all the peripherals.'

Amnesia

By Zahra Zafar

I try to remember

Was it June or December?

Wind was colder

I thought I was getting older

I wanted to disappear

From that place to anywhere

But my feet were stuck

In the ground of that ghost town

Haunted moments passed by

All I could do was close my eyes

But nothing made it better

I saw myself crumbling and shatter

But now staring at my bruises and scars

That remind me I have been to war

I try to remember

Was it June or December?

A ray of hope

By Bushra Safeer

While thick autumn foliage

Falls over the desolate vale

My heart aches and silence prevails

No flame burns or even

A gust of wind blows

Beside an isolated tree

A candle flickers slowly and passionately

A ray of hope twinkles in my heart

I dwell deep in it

More sweetly and profoundly

I reach to catch

That glimpse of hope

No more cares or worries

In a deep desolate, thick and dark foliage

Gloom

By Manahil Farooq

In the quiet and stagnant night

The charm of darkness had invaded her soul

For the moments of peace

When everybody was asleep

It was her tired soul

That kept her wide awake

Stuck in an ocean of futile thoughts

What immense pain to her it had brought

Endeavouring to fight against

The million intrusive memories

Remembering all the tragedies

Her achievements proved worthless

And thus we lost another life

Gloom and hopelessness prevailed

Autumn's Nature

By EK

The trees are kind of pretty,

In their autumn gold and brown

Leaves are bright orange-reddish,

But all will soon fall down

As we crunch them with our shoes,

I guess its time for autumn now

As summer takes a snooze

Compiled by SK