To You I’ve Come


When I was there
You knew what to be said
But you reclined
From the place
Leaving me between
Myself and the strangers.

            Here I am
            Don’t know what
            Dazzled me back
            To you I’ve come.

To let you know
That I was hard
Not to admit myself
The love between us.

            You and I
            The loss of us
            To places unknown.

             Let me and you
             Be together again.

              _____Muhammad Shahab.


I Don’t Know You


Passages recall unobserved,
Pages shuffle,
Mind deviates,
History is forgotten.

Cactuses like in deserts grow
Upon the barren mind,
Fancies enveloping the veins
Like the Staff of Hermes.

Thoughts like a peripatetic fatigued.

Love begets hate to see the face
Once loved,
Now hated.

Hate grows and outweighs the weight
Of galaxies upon galaxies.

Now I’m wearied, exhausted and oblivious.

When you come!
When you come!

Know that I don’t know you!

                 _____Muhammad Shahab.




Among the snowy clouds
Up the North.

Riding the bird of desire
With wings of fire
Through the “sad heights”
And the gleeful tops.

Saw the angels from Heaven,
Deuces from Hell;
Tell stories of shivering thunder
Hades under,
And majestic The Spectre.

To pass on to those
Seeking solace
To breathe and boil
The turning toil
Unleash the coil.

Free your desire
Meander the clouds
To strive to find
To work and build
The edifice still.

                  ____Muhammad Shahab.


A Rebirth in Time


There’s a leeway
Between us and the stars
That shine luminously,
Giving hope.

I see a distant star
Not different from the one yonder
But this star that I espy,
Does not shine
‘Has withered with time.

Time changes,
Every star that shines,
Every wandering being.
Yet it’s powerless to change
A love bearing heart;
Feeble, now cruel, now kind.
Love rejuvenates the six feet under.
Time ceases, love’s spry.

          _____Muhammad Shahab.


The Aliens We Love


I dared a stroll in the park.

Midnight it was, alone I wandered
The benches empty
Afar from the night walkers.

My aim not of being nostalgic,
But a voice calling
Through the window I heard.

This same voice I hearkened
For a fortnight
At last
I dared, I dared
Going to the spot.
I saw a shape, a form.
A form pitch black I hardly discerned
To be human.

Frightened as I was to what this beast,
This unearthly form would say.
It howled before me and I stood
Unmoved I know not why
The words I heard;
“Never love the alien I loved.”

             ____Muhammad Shahab.


The Unalloyed Love

You’re a handywork
More a miracle
Than a handywork.

Created by the hands of God
From the wondrous clay of heaven.
The heaven upon earth,
And the heaven upon heavens.

The Hands that moulded you,
Has moulded me too,
A beholder,
Of His miracle.

I adore you
To adore Him.
Isn’t my love the unalloyed love?

                  ____Muhammad Shahab.


An Artless Piece of Wonder


Who’s Fra Pandolf to paint
Her matchless grace?

Who’s Petrarch to describe her fairness
In his sonnets?

Who’s Homer to ramble her mince
In his verse?

Who’s James to describe her shades
In her novels?

She’s more than the classics,
Than the sonnets,
The verse, and
The novels.

She’s my love,
An artless piece of wonder,
Primeval and ineffable.

                        ____Muhammad Shahab.