THE BANANA
Poet: ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE By: ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE, RawalpindiSo I am meant to be fed to the monkey,
Wail till you have an encounter with my peel,
Without the night, stars you shall see,
For still life I join hands with friend apple,
Different shapes of me decorate a cocktail
I lie on the table as the knife slices me open,
An incision in my centre, split into pieces,
My seed in you sprout a plant
The likes of which you have to see to believe,
They should call you sprout a plant
I make ‘shakes’ about the reference
What you treasure to eat,
Out of which you should not make mincemeat
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08 Jul, 2015
More ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE Poetry
Life Is Sacred In the Garden the blooming rose
Tucked in the vase in a pose
The sweet fragrance spread in the air
Lending grace to an otherwise room bizarre
The rich red velvet of the petals.
The crowning glory of the green sepals
The beauty of this natural piece
Has at last now withered and died
Reminds one all the time
Life should be lived to the brim
In case this virtue is denied
Tucked in the vase in a pose
The sweet fragrance spread in the air
Lending grace to an otherwise room bizarre
The rich red velvet of the petals.
The crowning glory of the green sepals
The beauty of this natural piece
Has at last now withered and died
Reminds one all the time
Life should be lived to the brim
In case this virtue is denied
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
Esort To Quilt The dark cold winter night
Bring a shudder and a chill to the might
The star at a distance so high
Part oblivious because of the cloud in the sky
The severe pouring December rain
From which even the umbrella covered refrain
I love to stay indoors
And protect myself from the downpour
I snuggle up warm and cozy in my eider-down quilt
Watching television sipping coffee
Plunged on my bed with my pillow at a slight tilt
Bring a shudder and a chill to the might
The star at a distance so high
Part oblivious because of the cloud in the sky
The severe pouring December rain
From which even the umbrella covered refrain
I love to stay indoors
And protect myself from the downpour
I snuggle up warm and cozy in my eider-down quilt
Watching television sipping coffee
Plunged on my bed with my pillow at a slight tilt
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
Innocence As the child looked with his eyes wide open
I thought on innocence I would write a poem
Unaware of the sins committed by society
Oblivious of death and calamity
Playing with a toy gun in the hand
As if the real one has not harmed the land
Exist does a lie denied
The solemn truth will always preside
Early in the morning shall I arise
To greet with a surprise
The coin planted in my garden
Shall hurst into a tree?
With the money chocolates I shall buy
And build a house Hansel Gretel style
I thought on innocence I would write a poem
Unaware of the sins committed by society
Oblivious of death and calamity
Playing with a toy gun in the hand
As if the real one has not harmed the land
Exist does a lie denied
The solemn truth will always preside
Early in the morning shall I arise
To greet with a surprise
The coin planted in my garden
Shall hurst into a tree?
With the money chocolates I shall buy
And build a house Hansel Gretel style
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
Heaven Is At Her Feet From the moment a child opens its eyes
To the world and its ties
She nurtures it like a steadfast rock
Right from pant to frock
“And I shall guide you,
On the path that I walked on
Before you came along
In sickness and in health
In poverty and in wealth
Whenever I needed company
You gave the note to the harmony
Sit tight little one
To the world and its ties
She nurtures it like a steadfast rock
Right from pant to frock
“And I shall guide you,
On the path that I walked on
Before you came along
In sickness and in health
In poverty and in wealth
Whenever I needed company
You gave the note to the harmony
Sit tight little one
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
Encounter On my travels such was my plight
Did Gulliver or Passé partout with all their might
Slip in a puddle in broad daylight
Were they bait to such a trait
In their Sunday best waiting for a suitor
Who would pronounce romance truer
The mishap with the hair
That turned bald and bare
Thinking of the worlds miseries
Had there been no fisheries
No salmon and no trout
To bring about a prick in the mouth
With the writing to bleed
Promising a bond in a deed
Did Gulliver or Passé partout with all their might
Slip in a puddle in broad daylight
Were they bait to such a trait
In their Sunday best waiting for a suitor
Who would pronounce romance truer
The mishap with the hair
That turned bald and bare
Thinking of the worlds miseries
Had there been no fisheries
No salmon and no trout
To bring about a prick in the mouth
With the writing to bleed
Promising a bond in a deed
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
Till Death Do Us In Last night I woke up from a dream,
To realize, that it was not what it seemed
My companion for my relaxed hours
Was wet through and through
No I had not done it
It was the thunderstorm that possessed it:
I totaled the time,
That flew past the chime,
That rung from my alarm,
To raise me with charm
Out indeed I shall pay no heed
The mattress and I look alike
Bulging from the sides-out, vital statistics 40,40,40
To realize, that it was not what it seemed
My companion for my relaxed hours
Was wet through and through
No I had not done it
It was the thunderstorm that possessed it:
I totaled the time,
That flew past the chime,
That rung from my alarm,
To raise me with charm
Out indeed I shall pay no heed
The mattress and I look alike
Bulging from the sides-out, vital statistics 40,40,40
ZEENAT IQBAL HAKIMJEE
