Poetry from Mahbub

O My Heart

 

Your words will live with me all my life

Your gesture and posture

Thoughtfulness and care

Glitter my heart all the way

You are my glory, my sweet heart

You are my soil, half of the circle

Fails the energy to move the elements

If not there your sweet voice

When I am in touch of you

It rings bell to open the door

Or like the cat sleeping beside me

Under this warm blanket or mattress

Never pushed back

Again and again peeping at her

On the door

O my boss, O my heart.

 

 

Hope for the Sun

 

 

When unpleasant everything in life

You hold a torch before me

Whispering in my ears

Spread your hands

Are not actually visible

But more than its visibility

Just like we breathe

And move to each other

Grows a spiritual power in me

I started my journey in a windy path

But it was straightforward

So many wounded so many deaths I met there

Growling and moaning; mothers,

Fathers, sisters, brothers, relatives and neighbors

Bleeding from the blast miles after miles

Though it’s difficult, I got there

Bleated feebly and turned back with bleary eyes

This bleak winter day must change into spring

May the swirling mists turn into clear sun.

 

 

A  Vagabond Hen

 

Everyday a black-feathered hen

Comes to my roof after setting the sun

From when it continues the matter I did not know

I guessed that all on a sudden

One day early in the morning, while opening the door

I saw it

An unknown, fully unfamiliar sight

From where does it come to my roof?

A matter of joy and also worried about

Is it a hen or anything else?

In the meantime it began to walk

And call its morning pray

Like ground stuff it wonders

Here and there around my home the whole day

But where does lay eggs?

It lays eggs in others place

My roof is surrounded with varieties of flower trees

So far as it to say there is invisible connection

Between the flower trees and the hen

I only see from a corner

What a built-in love to each other!

 

 

 

 

Transforming to the Mars

 

It has no question of veracity

The feelings of different times in a year

Cold, warm, hot, burning, gasping

Rainy and mild weather

Round the year

We are bound to face the taste of the bitter

Some trembles in fear

Some enjoys the dear

We rush to mingle in verdure

At our exhausting hour

Stephen Hawking looks into the space

Find a path to make a journey

We think to transform living in the Mars.

 

 

 

Look Behind

 

‘Look behind’ someone coming silent to me say

Please, my dear friend ‘Look behind’.

I opened my eyes and tried to look back

Just two thousand two

I was in a busy room

All on a sudden I found

My eyes stopped to see

Anything before me

It was totally in darkness fell in

But felt in the off body

Breath taking was on going

How could I say I am living?

I was totally in another world

Nothing to have in me

Then anyway later I became

As usual as before

I opened my eyes and survived

Now at this time I think

I have died fourteen years ago

Though it seems to be a miracle to me

I am live.

 

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

18/01/2017