Author

Bahawal Abbasi

A 19-year-old poet and painter from Bahawalpur who writes each poem as a lock and hands the reader its key.

The book

First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet

First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet is ultimately a record of one young poet’s attempt to find meaning in fear, love, society, faith, death, failure, success, solitude, etc. ultimately presenting poetry as the author’s way of questioning the world around him. Furthermore, it contains the ‘key’ to all poems, which will aid readers to understand and feel the poems in a same way as the author does.

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First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet — front cover

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Turn through the pages.

A few pages from the book, so you can see how it reads before you buy.

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The themes

What this book is about .

01

Fifty poems on fear, love, society, faith, death, failure, success and solitude

02

Each poem followed by its key: the poet’s own description and a verse-by-verse reading

03

Opens with "Midnight", the hour the poet calls the most alive of his day

04

Poems for his mother, his brother, his great-grandfather and the Prophet (pbuh)

05

Cover painted by the author, an award-winning artist

Behind The Book

About the Author

I’m Bahawal Abbasi, belonging to the Royal family of Bahawalpur. I’m 19 years old. Currently I’m a student of A levels, and hold brief interest in poetry and literature. Furthermore, I’m an artist and achieved some awards in this particular category, the most prominent one was from PNCA.

Excerpts

Read a little of the book.

First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet, p. 5

Forsooth we’ve romanticized the wrong organ,
It’s not the heart which has authority over you,
But, your belly.
Belittle someone, and their antipathy will grow,
Halt their meal, and the anarchy will blow.
To gratify the stomach, even God has lifted His rules.
Many men have lived without marriage,
But, none without food.
Love can be queued,
But, not food.

First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet, p. 47

Road for knowledge never ends,
But my fuel isn’t everlasting.
This dissatisfaction eats me,
And now, there’s no way for me to be free.
But it makes me richer than the rich,
Wiser than the wise,
But never happier than the happy.
To the drink of addiction,
I’ll drink again;
To the valley of knowledge, I’ll begin my journey again.

First 50 Poems of an Amateur Poet, p. 69

Health is a crown, only seen by the sick;
Life only teaches us when our clock is on the tick.
Health is a thing built brick by brick,
But, for it to be inferior, it only takes one bad flick.
Health is ignored when we are young,
But, we only discerned its shine when our time has been rung.