Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










THE STORM DOESN’T ARRIVE, IT IS SUMMONED WITH LOVE AND MORE by Iqra Khan

after Ghalib[1]

the shore shrugs free of its fastenings

exfoliating its blemishes in anticipation

 

of love or death—similar reliefs

some people are indifferent between

 

memory and oblivion which are both

both and neither. letting go is holding on

 

to innallillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon.

the blue night still coils in the canyons

 

between my knuckles a crescent slits the night

the palindrome sky with a thin promise

 

of light on either side I let the blue take me

in its morphined arms all I want is to be

 

a wreck that washes up on your sands I lie

to the snow-white pills that keep me warm—

 

you don’t return on your own

there is peace in otal destruction

 

oblivion hurts less perhaps

yet I summon you again, and again

 

[1] Ishrat-e-qatra hai darya mein fanaa ho jaana by Ghalib.

 

Iqra Khan