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Srinagar
Forehead of the Zabarwan. Gold of chinar leaves in Mughal gardens. The lake. Shikaras float, houseboats hold the evening. Hazratbal rises white at dusk, air rich with lamb smoke. At night, far away, I trace your fragrance in everything. @poeticnoesis Morning
On a spring Friday morning, I watch you quietly sip coffee, butter the toast. The table fills with bread, with warmth. Honey and cream linger on the tongue. And slowly, morning around us softens. @poeticnoesis Stains of Your Voice
Snow on the peaks. Red-roofed houses. A crowded airport. The brow of a solitary house. An empty bed. A dusty car in the driveway. Every corner carries the stain of your voice, your presence. @poeticnoesis No Banners Truth is a harmony between our word, our hand, and our inner self. Not the mask, but the face left behind when the room empties. No banners. No witness. It clears the mirror, and the heart knows the way home. @poeticnoesis Doha
Towers of glass, a walk along the curved edge of water. Dhows float, carrying the old soul of the city. Spices, voices, falcons, crowded alleys in the evening. A spiral minaret rises golden at dusk. At night, in an Old Port café, I trace your memory at a quiet table. @poeticnoesis |
PoetGul Javed These poems have been previously published in various literary journals, magazines, books and anthologies around the globe including the UK, the USA, Ireland and Canada.
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