Poems by Hamza Melmuri

Lost Identity

a poem by Hamza Melmuri

In my class room
I am 8040,
In the company of my friends
I am a ten digit number.
My teacher is pqr or xyz.

Digits rule the world.
Thoughts are executed by abbreviations

For the last week,
Letters do not reach me.
I think, I have lost my address book
That included my address too.

Importance of being Mad

a poem by Hamza Melmuri

A mad man comes staggering,
Sits under the streetlight,
As some holes appeared
In the blanket of darkness.

The streetlight, it seemed, was his ‘bodhi’
For it was where he learned life
With on-lookers passing by grinning
And they said “it is mad”.

They were true to comment on him so
For he was mad in the general sense
But he kept a man inside
A mind inside.

The man thought he was safe
Because laws were forbidden in his kingdom
Always he made his own laws,
His own enemies.

He was the king
In the country of prophets
And the prophets were fortunate
For they knew he was the wisest.