The Firefly

On the way a firefly flies near me at night

Removing darkness it flies all around me

At first it seemed to be a glow of light

Never known before the light a firefly

As like as I see the brightness in you my glory of life

It arises to me the stars in the sky

The star flowers in the dewy morning

And the firefly – you all the glory of light

Now in the darkness of night

I have built a castle in you

O my love, my light in the ignorance

That came to my sight so many years ago in a bush

The pieces of light enlightened the castle through time over time

The castle I like to live

I like to sleep

I like to think

I do not know what I count

I like to go through in my glorious lovely firefly.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

24 May, 2025.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

Purple Dust and Owning Things

My name is my own my own my own

owning myself entirely is the only way

to ward off the worrying: the wrong

doing; the only sane way to sit at a restaurant

outside the context of botched operations

staining the fabric of my dress blue and pink and

white; I can’t see the stars in the sky anymore

I can’t breathe or sigh anymore when I have to wait

to catch my breath or a bus to get anywhere else

besides here. I trace the texture on my face my

face of purple stars billowing in soft fabrics wrapped around my outline

owning my starry-eyed soul is the most direct route to meaningless salvation

separated from the rest of the meaningful world the most direct route

through a memorized painting is the colors I perceive. 

Very Soon, And in Pleasant Company

Soon is a complicated word,

Does soon mean tomorrow or in two years?

Does it depend on what I’m focusing on?

When I crack open a cookie,

My fortune will spill out like a yolk,

I’ll scramble it together,

Figure it out,

Piece

By

Peace.

The Rain and Nature

The summer is the hottest season.

The sun becomes angry.

But sometimes it goes under the clouds.

It can’t show its hotness.

The rain starts.

The nature gets drenched.

Sometimes it rains slowly,

But sometimes it starts to rain cats and dogs.

The entire nature becomes cold.

Everything goes to under water.

The trees start to take bath,

The leaves become clean.

Sometimes it rains over a day!

The people can’t go to their work.

It sounds awesome.

That’s true.

But for the general people it’s like the curse.

Because they can’t earn their foods.

Don  Bormon is a student of grade ten in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

The Ancient One  

Before the stars began to shine, 

Or the moon was a pale light in the night , 

Eons came and went, 

In this age we live in, 

Stories were told and retold, 

Until lost in the in the mists of time. 

Many wise men shared their wisdom, 

And their truths were made known 

To the world.. 

But the people walked on in darkness, 

Trampling their truths as they went. 

Their weapons became more and more fearsome, 

And they had help with the evil they chose. 

The Ancient One is watching, 

He knows this too shall pass, 

He seen it come,  

And He watched it go, 

He is the first and the last.