PinnedGod, Do You Understand My Language?A Poem by: Muhammad Nasrullah Khan — God, my mother told me, You are the embodiment of love. Since then, I have adored you most. But I wonder do you understand me? I read your book in the foreign language of those who rule us. Are you on the side of missionaries who pour money into their coffers? Do you not hear the cry of…Poetry3 min read
Published in The Power of Poetry·PinnedA Void, We Call LifeA Poem — When words fall short, I sit in the world’s shadows. Watching the world through my window, I rejoice absurd songs. Life spills in laissez faire economics, consuming dreams to rust. Forgotten blue and white banners flutter. Wind sighs in Red Oaks, echoing the doleful cries of a lonesome. The song rises: a kite lifted by a gust of ethereal wind. Through my…Poetry2 min read
Published in Show Your City·PinnedMy Hometown, My Lost FriendMy hometown, my lost friend, Thank you for greeting me once again, at a time when we both are lost. When I wander your streets, you also wander within me, weaved into my thoughts. Winding down to your core, to the oldest part of you, I finally remember your last hug. Let’s hug once again to soothe sorrows…Memories2 min read
Published in My Selection·PinnedWe were Born to ClapBy: Muhammad Nasrullah Khan Dear First World, Salute to you Accept humble bow, from the Third World. Thank you for the great lectures for **** idiots. Heads hung low, wide-eyed, we clapped. You sold us your notion of humanity, we lived in a barbaric world. You bombed to end the atrocities. The boisterous…Myselections2 min read
Published in About Me Stories·PinnedAbout Me — Muhammad Nasrullah KhanMy Writing Journey — My literary life is like a wild tree that grows in the desert and depends on the rain. It has to face the heat of the sunlight and the harsh winds. If it grows up, it remains untrimmed and unappreciated. But if it survives, its fragrance spreads in the desert…About Me3 min read
Published in My Selection·Jun 25A Lonely Woman and a RiverPoem — Uptown. Downtown. All around. Swirls of people Touched by the kiss of absurdity. Flesh creating more flesh. A city grown in tumor ridden tentacles. Jumbled steel, glass, concrete and asphalt Built up in rows of skyscrapers. Whose long, jagged teeth bite holes through the heavens. Streets flow with cars and people Like rivers bent into sharp angles. Bulging subway vehicles, Merge from the…Poem2 min read
Jun 14Editors NeededI need an editor/editors for this growing publication, would you like to be? Here is the link of my publication: My Selection “All good books are the same and when you read a good book you realize it’s already passed on to you and then that book…medium.com A Brief Introduction: “My Selection is the publication for all of you to share the memorable and universal excerpts from our favorite books with your reflections. We love reading great…Editors Pick2 min read
Published in Show Your City·Nov 21, 2021My Village — Latest PartI was sad. I didn’t know why I was sad. I believe the genuine sadness is when you don’t know the reason. Perhaps it originates from your subconscious. Life moves forward and we cannot stop its flow. I like the way its flow originates from the mountains and flows down…Show Your City4 min read
Aug 23, 2021Dear DeathDeath is freeing MWC Death — An old author, made feeble by the hardships of life, lay on his death bed. His hair was a mess, a little greasy, like he had his hand through it all night. He moved his hand over the blanket, back and forth and buried his face in the pillow. On…Mwc Death7 min read
Aug 19, 2021Returning HomeEntry for MWC Reentry — The sun slowly hid itself behind the earth as Rafeel, grey haired and with short wrinkle lines on his face reached the old bus-stop of his village. …Mwc Reentry10 min read
