Saturday, May 25, 2013

The blue-eyed


I wish my profession so tense
To disappear from the world;
Don’t want any honour, pretence
It’s not worth my blood.

Let the countries fight,
For right or for wrong
I don’t want to miss the flight
My anger’s not so strong.

Why should I kill someone
I don’t even know?
I have my family, my loved ones
My children want to grow.

We’re fighting on and on
Like morons in this world,
Wars for years reborn
And Peace is just a word!

When fighting sordid wars
Soldiers bleed and die
Leaders call us stars
That had fallen from the sky!

We don’t want these honours
To die dull and distinct
Wish like hunters
Our profession go extinct.

Friday, May 24, 2013

When you are




At the desk, when you are reading,
Your right hand goes slowly to your nose
Postures to bring it to your lips so close,
I know you are involved with the book.

Your eyes so clear with the radian look
When you are writing,
I know you are engaged with what you are creating.

When you are angry, silly I know you are hungry,
I get you some of your favourite food
To see you back in your winsome mood;

When you are doing the daily chores
I try to offer my willing hand,
I do wrong things so right, in millions of scores
To get your not-so-patient stand;

When you are asleep
With hands on my comfort rest
I see my garden I’d guard and keep
The heaven's alive, in my little nest.

At the ice-cream shop




You were licking the hard cold bar
A drop of milk slipped from your lips,
It had to strip on the ground,
You smiled and looked around…
When the hard brown layer
Mutely cracked…
You took it in your messy mouth
Chewed it hard with little care…

By the time, the lines of white began
Crawling down your fingers
You were confused…
Whether to tongue them,
Or the melting bar;
You jumped out of your self polite,
To clear it clean, with all your might…

At the ice-cream shop, my eyes met you first
From a little far
Muscles melted in the pretty sight.

A song of love




Where are you my sunflower,
Where are you my tender star,
We walked along so near and far,
To write a song all together…

When things were fine from five to nine,
Didn’t think you’ll not be mine,
Will stay so close yet be so far,
My only love, my tender star…

How are you my sunflower,
Wonder how you’d gone away so far,
Whatever you do, wherever you are,
You’ll always be my tender star…

Am ageing now my sugar’s high,
I cared for you it’s not a lie,
Standing here I’d smile and cry,
Will wait for us until I die…

There were so many things that slipped away
With days and nights that didn’t stay,
Am here to sing and say,
You are the one my sunflower,
You are the one my tender star…

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Dead belief




If I have to believe in what I see the best,
I see the Sun moving from what I call east
To a place I call the west.
I see the empty space above me
I call the sky which isn’t quite there, still there for free.

Yet I have to believe in what sees my silly head,
If I didn't see me pop alive,
I wouldn't see me dropping dead.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Let it pass




When the page without sense
Fell off the table,
With a cracking sound
The bit of life rubbed on it, for no offence
Smelt of dust, was able
To lighten it up that’s on the ground.

Lovers met years ago
Roped in as one,
Winds in between urging to go
Their paths in them, so undone
No sound, no one around
They leave to live without a show.

Wars are in and they are out
Rules within their killing shout,
If love’s to be for it to make
They hang on walls, and look so fake
Better they part with their single heart
Without losing their simple art.

The page that fell with a cracking pain,
Will fly anew and sing again.

just us



My arms are open for the madness of love
I hear sounds a lot of sounds.
Times I left some years ago,
The ears over my hands fixed above,
Hurling noises all around,
With hands stretched am tied so low.

My eyes are open to gauge the sadness of love
I see storms a lot of storms.
Tears left with years gone,
Show to me a kind of
Painting, of fleeting forms
That lies and says it’s still not won.

With open eyes, stretched arms and exposed ears
My feet, a bit above the ground,
Days and months take the years,
Love is singing all around,
With posture there so same at will,
I clearly see me waiting still.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

the host




the place is full
with people, with sound and smells of food
to be eaten, with a measured mood…
cars waiting outside the hall,
the spoons and forks,
are up to their winsome work;

everyone looks at the charming host
who’s talking and laughing while stalking the most,
not on one, not on two, but on everyone;
to see that the battle’s won,
has spent a lot
to steal them all, on the spot…
guests begin to eat the words
drowsy with the smell that’s spreading around
the staring host alights from the silent mound
they nod their heads for winning wars;

it’s time to leave over a cup of tea…
cars begin to walk away
space here, is there to stay
fully lost and went empty...

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

অন্ধ


অন্ধ

অন্ধকারের মধ্যেখানে
নেইকো কোন ভয়,
সুখ শান্তি ভালবাসার
শক্তি বিনিময় ৷

আমরা সবাই আলো এলে
আনন্দেতে হাসি,
দেখে শুনে চক্ষু মেলে
অন্ধ হ’য়ে ফাঁসি ৷

আঁধার হ’লে সারা ভূবন
যায় যে মিলে মিশে
আলোর ঘায়ে মরিয়া মন
ভরিয়ে ফেলি বিশে ৷

অন্ধকারে ঝগড়াঝাটি
মাটি হ’য়ে যায়,
তবু মোদের চোখের খিদে
আলোর পিছু ধায় ৷

Friday, May 3, 2013

Table


The table would have loved to know
It had company.
When on it the reader sat with a book
Read for hours, leaned on it with an inward look,
The rows of emotions that came through the words
The table thought it was the reader’s world.

It would have loved to know
It had company.
When the writer stormed into the pages
Hands shivered to deliver the cages,
Felt a myriad of things untold
The table thought it touched the heart warm and cold.

It would have loved to know
It had company.
When they sat and ate on it
Foods flew in they loved and laughed
Or fought for truth when they bluffed,
Cleaned and cleared in heat and snow
The world outside played symphony.

It’s lying now in a locked up room
With no one there, none to broom
No one reads no one writes
No one eats, loves or fights
To let it think it was a knight.
The gloom of cloud cleared away,
When it thought of the floor and the wall,
Plastic pains had drained to say,
It felt the stable silent call.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

without a sound


Sapling to a tree
I have it inside me.
Beginnings of an end, friends of a friend
Are all in the air floating around,
Playing a tune, without a sound.

Staying in time 
It remains the same.
Space is old, just blocked in the frame
Roots that live for the branches to bend
Are all inside me covered in a mound,
Painting a hiss, without a sound.