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Poet's
Corner
The Arvon International Poetry Competition
2008
The competition is being
held since 1980 and is considered to be one of the UK's most prestigious
poetry competitions. Past winners of the competition's First Prize have
included Poet Laureate, Andrew Motion, Don Paterson, Selima Hill, Paul
Farley, Mario Petrucci and many more. This year the competition offers £11,000
worth of prizes – including some rare copies of Ted Hughes publications.
The deadline for entries is 15th August 2008. Entries can be submitted
online.
For details, please visit:
www.arvonfoundation.org/poetry
Muntazir
Ankhain
By M. Awais
Aftab
Sometimes
When
I gaze into your eyes
They
remind me
Of
the parched sand
Looking
up at the dark clouds
The
inky, swirling currents
Full
of the promise of moisture
The
rain...
When
will it fall?
The
droplets...
When
will they caress the grains?
The
dunes look up
Hopeful,
waiting, expecting
Just
like your eyes
So this
is Love…!
By Sana
Khan
So
this is what love is,
A
mere calling of the words,
A
few tender caresses,
Some
sweet kisses,
And
gentle expressions.
So
this is what love does,
Makes
you float without wings,
High
above the ground,
Into
the realm of indulging fantasy,
Till
you fall back down.
So
this is what love means,
To
grow and become,
Something
you never thought you could be,
Believing
in the impossible probabilities,
Trying
to become.
So
this is what love makes you,
Wisher,
dreamer, worshipper, believer,
Of
what isn't and could never be,
A
mere illusion of the haunting
From
which you had broken free.
So
this is what love takes from you,
Your
faith, belief, yourself, deceit,
And
like a fool at a king's court,
You
act, pretend, perish, achieve,
Till
you become the essence of a mere belief.
So
this is what love binds you to,
Naked,
raw force of trust,
Of
striving to attain nothingness
And
thinking you have received,
The
gift of a lifetime.
So
this is what love makes you think,
That
you can be yourself,
True
and whole and pure,
Like
you were always before,
Till
you fall down into oblivion and curse.
So
this is where love leaves you,
In
the realm of purgatory,
Making
you feel things
You
never thought you would feel,
And
then leaving you empty and drained.
Ah!
So this is Love!
An
illusion, a deceit,
An
approach far from truth,
A
death wish, a consumer,
To
which you naively cease to be.
The white
flower!
By Mehreen
Tahir
The
white flower,
Single
and pure,
Swaying,
as if laughing,
Fresh
and shining,
From
the morning dew,
Dancing
in the breeze,
Gaiety
at its peak,
Like
a baby in his cradle,
Innocent,
unknown to vice,
The
pureness of his soul,
Is
blossomed like the flower's,
But
both will stop swaying,
When
the breeze turns to dust,
Of
betrayal, of vice,
Of
the unkind society,
And
its torments,
The
cruelties,
The
lies and the deceit;
The
soul that was pure,
Honest
and unstained;
The
white flower is no more,
Pure,
but yellowed,
Withered
by the unkind wind,
Tarnished
by the evils,
It
sways no more,
But
droops slowly,
And
the petals wear away,
With
each gust of intolerance,
Until
the delicacy is worn out,
And
just the stalk is left,
Rough
and naked,
Its
beauty and purity gone,
And
head bowed in shame,
Willing
to break away from the branch,
That
still connects it to life,
To
a mere sorry existence,
So
when the next gust comes,
It
blows away silently,
Gladly,
to get rid of the misery,
Of
standing alone; pure,
In
the midst of such impurity!
Woe of a
Girl
By Aaishah
Abu Bakr
I
aspire to have been
Below
this six feet ground
Away
from quandaries and tortures
For
a one-time demise
Is
preferable
To
dying every other day
I
wish I had been
One
of those daughters of Arabia
Who
were given to death
The
very day they were born
Who
suffered pain but once
Who
were slain but once
Death
of infancy
Father's
discrepancy
Society's
malignancy
All
but once …
But
today I subsist
Though
I am dead within
Every
night I am made to wade
Through
a teary tide
I
am sorrow's bride
And
in my womb I hide
Conceptions
of tomorrow
Children
of torture, repression and sorrow
Compiled
by N.A.
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