The Carpenter

the eloquence of the eyes



I will become a carpenter
Down in the valley
Remote in its corner and reach
There I will teach myself
To become human again
Out of its reach and influence
The old wizardry of science and its sounds
Out of its reach of the old battle
For cause and its stake
There you will find me
With the old tattered jeep
With the herders and history
By the lake with the old story of the past….


No Fear of the Bayonet or the Turret


Nishaen e Haiders


My mortal remains 
Scattered and unrecognizable 
My body imbued 
In the dust and its air 
Where I grew up 
My mortal remains 
Fixed and playful 
In the memories and its eyes
As I grew up intact 
There it remains 
Only the soul and its spirit
No fear of the mortar or the bullet
No fear of the bayonet or the turret 
Never we will die 
In the battles for Allah
Never will we surrender 
The honour and its pride 
My mortal remains scattered 
In those battlefields and mountains
In the snows and the deserts 
Come and find me 
There you will see the old inscription 
The poems of iqbal and the verses of Quran
I will always live forever
In your minds and its conscience 
No fear of the mortar or the bullet
No fear of the bayonet or the turret

Asim Khan


srebrenixca poem



Poem: Srebrenica

An old mother
Clasped onto the memory
the cornice in the ground
The unmarked grave
As tears roll down her cheeks
As pain holds her clenched
In her breath
Points out
There is my husband
In that grave
In there, my sons
My daughters
Raped and disappeared
They only
In my heart
Not long ago
The terrible tragedy
Struck us and its genocide
The day I grew old

The world
watched in silence
They whispered
As the guns and bullets
Rattled its peace
They talked and talked
But only action
The death kept coming
In this Srebrenica town
As the war raged
It’s verdict and life ravaged
They watched
In silence

Look at these graves
Srebrenica in silence
As you travel
In your pursuit
For evidence and analysis
The biggest grave
The grand epitaph
Upon these institutions
The beacons of light
Their silence hard to break
I grieve for them too
The institutions of the world
Condemned to their graves
I cry for them too…

Asim Khan

Thanks Aisha Ghazi for bringing out an old painful reminder to what happened not long ago and the total collapse of that responsibility and its burden shown by the world and its institutions and when they realized it was simply too late.

Poem: The Labourer

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With this curved spine,
In journey with this world
The echoes of my soul
the existence and its burden
Hear I all day the whispers
the crunching bones
against each other,
As the very fabric
begins to crumble
I am the labourer,
The powder I have become
the dust and its movement
In celebration my pain,
in celebration my work
far away,
removed from the world,
The blisters upon my feet,
the fingers and its skin,
I was born BEAUTIFUL
As look upon my self
only the dust
I see, only the scars and its pain
the blackened existence

I am the song of your revolutions
I am the silent whisper
in your thoughts,
I carry this weight
upon my shoulders, upon my head
in revolt,
All my body and all its tissues
I am the muse to your movements
I am the beauty you paint,
I am the lectures you deliver
I am that famous painting
that hangs in your galleries
Untouched, unheard, in silence
I am the speeches you deliver
I am the river you speak of
I am the ocean you dive into
All there but me,
I am the exodus you never heard
I am the labourer
somewhere in your dead conscience

I am the labourer
in this world of greed and commerce
the only hope, the only dream
this will end here, my sacrifice
my children will not meet this fate,
upon these roads, I walk
Upon these roads,
i surrender my dignity
in this dust,
i surrender my pride,
Just me, this pain will not travel further
upon my children and their generations
The old promise my father made
Our days is 365 days long and nights
only fleeting moments in capture

I am your labourer,
Each year
you celebrate in your words
with vigor and passion
In your poems,
the emotions and its river
But cold this existence
the death you inflicted
Look me in the eye,
the ghostly eyes
All sponged out,
my youth and its innocence
My days of school
sacrificed in its heat
In protest
my whole existence against me,
with cuts and its bruises, upon my back
hidden away all its pain in its dust
the squalor of my existence and nights
you see me in your farms,
you see in your homes,
you see me upon your roads,
All around you see me
all day and yet in celebration just one.

I am your labouer in all ages
In your streets, an old man and woman
the young in your existence
As you drive past,
Just shadows we are,
Shadows that grow larger and diminish
at their own will
I am in all ages at your disposal
I am the labourer of this world,
But only in this world,
I will let you know
Only in this world you have me
The hereafter is all mine
I know the promise made to me
It’s there in inscription,
It’s there in its voices
I hear the angels with me
By my Creator, By my Creator
The hereafter is all mine.
It’s all mine
The heavens of this Universe and beyond
It’s all mine.

The Dreamer’s Lounge

the echoes of the mind


Peace will return
as the silt begins to wither,
as the sirens of spring
begin to strutter
the old conversations
in the dreamers lounge,

remember we were once young,
the fire in our hearts
the old books we carried
in our golden bags,
the sharpened pencils
with their stranded designs
as the orange peel
remains in half drunken cup

as the old wires tremble
to find its plug,
the silence moves
through the winds of its rapture
as the old stories
finds its characters
Through the scribbles
of its fracture

near the old heaps of books,
in there, remains the enigma
of our times and of our rhymes
and gone, in split second
the echoes of the mind……


Let’s Become Immortal Today



Today is the day when we will see what we are made up of: whether we have enough conviction in our beliefs and courage to stand up against this injustice. Khan Saab has and he has proved it in his 45 years of service for Pakistan. And I am so proud of him not just as a PTI member but as a Pakistani. Let’s hope Pakistan today decides its destiny forever and to get out of this misery and slavery. What we are seeing is unprecedented history unfolding in front of our eyes- 19th August 2014.

This day will be remembered like 14th August as second Independence Day or the black mark upon our conscience and history.

The most beautiful day today in the history of Pakistan. Today the ” The Red Zone” will become ” The Freedom Zone”

If we remained in our homes today , then never will we get out again as tools of injustice will suffocate us.

Red & Green are PTI colours. Today they will meet again.

Let’s Live today for just one day as we have been dead for many years. If we don’t come out, then we are dead anyway. Time to decide

Today you decide and let that decision be forever remembered by our generations and we can be proud of what we did, saw and participated in this history. Let’s become immortal today.

Azadi March Poem: Iqbal’s Shaheens, Wrapped up in Green

ch rizvan the long trail

dream team isb the long trail


With your imposition

Of article 245

Your section 144

See you in Islamabad

With our demand

We will not return


We get our Pakistan



See you in Islamabad

With our demand

Million voices to rhyme

Imran Khan, Imran Khan

Our blood is red and green

Return to us our Pakistan


Hear the March and its beat

It’s time for you to retreat

Use your 245 and 144

You will still hear

Until your defeat

Change and its scream


See you in Islamabad

With our Demand

By all means stop

By all means block

But we will stand

For our rights and demand


Wrapped up in Green

Iqbal’s Shaheens

No matter where I am

My soul is in Pakistan

See you in Islamabad

With our demand


It’s in our blood

The green and red

Return to us

Jinnah Pakistan

See you in Islamabad

With our demand


See you in Islamabad

With our demand

Where the passion will bring

Its design

Return to us

Jinnah’s Pakistan


From Sukkhar to Quetta

From Karachi to Faisalabad

From Lahore to Fata

See you in Islamabad

Wrapped up in Green

Iqbal’s Shaheens

With our demand


See you in Islamabad

Wrapped up in Green

Iqbal’s Shaheens

With our demand

Our voices will reach

We have

Strange powers of speech


See you in Islamabad,

Try all you can to stop,

The youth and its rock

We will demand

For Naya Pakistan

Iqbal’s Shaheens

Wrapped up in Green


Rise in Revolution


the pain that lingers,
from the moment
of its creation
the havoc unleashed
by the monsters
the status quo

as they plunder,
the resoources
as they murder,
the very own
through hunger
as they neglect
You, the people

no longer
the priority,
Never they cared,
for what
You meant to them
the faces
that will never return
To the mountains
to hear the echoes
of laughter and its peace

Corrupt they are,
to the bones,
Where laments
morality and ethics
in aveneues
of Pakistan

Where languishes
in its residence
the pain
carried to its squalor
the screams
of the unseen

remove them
from their office,
remove them
from your consicience
remove them
from your vote
remove them
from the power
remove them
get removed

Remove them
before they kill
your children
Your destiny
Your future

Dont sing the songs
of revolution,
Remove them
Rise in Revolution