i wait at a lost November’s altar…

i wait at a lost November’s altar
i’ve stood long by your remembered altar.

the mist has enveloped your revered limbs
o, my burnt god, at your embers’ altar.

i’ve sought grace from you, my offender, — kiss
and bless my blood on the weather’s altar.

the snow-peaked red of my surrender made —
o, my hemlock-love, at gender’s altar.

i am not a man, nor nature’s rendered spring,
unworthy of your sight’s treasured altar.

the sweet incense hangs in a slender hope,
o, my sinned friend, at forever’s altar.

accept my sacrifice, my splendor’s death,
i, Priceless, will wait at winter’s altar.


© Anmol Arora 2018

For “All in November’s soaking mist” at With Real Toads — a try at an English Ghazal, with seven couplets and ten-syllable lines, and radeef, kafiya, matla, maktaa, et al. No constant metrical foot though. For the takhallus, I used the English meaning of my name. To be edited further.
Also linking it up with OLN #232 at dVerse
Image source (Sacrifice of the Rose by Keith Carrington)

For a treat, enjoy Begum Akhtar’s magical rendition of Faiz’s “Aaye Kuchh Abr Kuchh Sharaab Aaye”

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fever

whatsapp-image-2018-11-11-at-09-39-36.jpeg
his voice has a slight tremble

i can feel in my throat, like
a hot melting tar, burning away —

a fever i could catch, a freedom
i could match, and light away
another smoke to its waste.

.

© Anmol Arora 2018

For With Real Toads Fussy Little Forms: Cherita

humor me

humor me
by tying me up good
when we pass the sirens’ lair,
awaken me by your clairvoyance
as night ends.

a morning
begins with smile on
her illumined face as she
drinks the sunshine to become a star
going away.

laughing moon
glares at me again
to warn of the deep silence
that has broken down glass mirrors of
deception.

she has left
a note of goodbye
which invites the noise inside
where my bones lay fragmented into
naive splinters.

gloom sees me
and I see people
leading lives of dead humor,
they see me too when she uncloses
her dark eyes.

.

Written in consideration of dVerse where Mr. Tony Maude has prompted everyone to write modified cinquains, by adding one more syllable to every line.

Image source