Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










IF I WERE ANY GOOD by Waqas Khwaja

unprepared and unmannerly
yet i burn
to receive you
 
my heart to unclose itself
and empty of all
not you
 
snatch this sheet
from my body
tear this shirt off
 
strip me
of my clothing 
of skin
 
and yet
i am not
naked enough for you
 
surely my soul
has a right against me
surely my body too
 
from heart to heart
a narrow window
opens its shut leaves
 
purchasing sight
from blindness
sightlessness from seeing
 
love and gall
severity and gentleness
is all in your service
 
but first, obduracy
denial, turning away
in anger and pique
 
so i may belong
to myself entirely
before gentleness comes
 
i wander
into a secluded thicket
distracted and dazed
 
if i were any good
would i be obliged
to tarry here?
 
i am become
the bearer of your freight
and find myself nowhere
 
sour, sour words
that is all i have
for kindness you show me
 
ready ever
to squander dreams 
like an addled beggar
 
recklessly wagering
all on a fickle promise
your knife at my throat
 
my bed i make
on this stony ground
i talk in my sleep


WAQAS KHWAJA