Poetry from Mahbub

Middle aged South Asian man with glasses and combed black hair and a white collared shirt
Mahbub the Poet

Syllabus of Human Life

Life is divided into small parts

Every life has its different chapter

Life spoils life from time immemorial

Builds life for the same connection

To perform the deeds according to the syllabus

No exception than to lead the cognition

As the books are designed for the separate classes

Boys and girls play the roles of the students

Come from various places

Serve the nation, make civilization

Every country of the world face every respective

Geography, weather or culture

Glorify the nation according to the curriculum

In every sector of the needs we, the people of the earth

Always doing something to enlighten the heart

By the spades people cultivate the lands

Or with the machinery, the tractors or motors

Glorifies life – its present and future.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

Bending Humanity

In one side the world is sparking with the glorification of civilization

On the other part it’s dark and encircled with the barb wires

Starvation and ignition, negligibility and deviation from the way to mark

Here people only look at the sky and pass away the time

Here righteous overcome by tyranny

They are rushing through the lands, rivers or oceans

People treated even not like the animals

Tortured so severely to cut bodies into pieces on the boats

And throw them on the vast waters coloring red or monstrous

You can see the scared faces

Always think the safe zone to avoid death

Overloaded and frustrated sigh

Numbs the knees

Bends the bodies

Miles after miles only carry themselves and hurries

Eyes stopped to see any more

But here is no stoppage

Crossing the rivers and oceans they stand fringed and brittle

Bending on the bamboo pillars sit by anyway inhaling the oxygen

Beating the heart so nervous.   

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh


When the world goes peaceful and happy

Sometimes it appears to be fearful like the cyclone ‘Bulbul’

Can we see the falling of the stars in the sky?

They fire and float not touching others

Lives created by God

Possesses the dignity of dictatorship

The hearts agitated or calm

Always busy with nurture

In this silent room, I get afraid of the coastal areas’ cyclone

Crying out loud with rains, clouds and winds

Nervous mind burns the eyes

At the same time I watch the spreading fire of Australia 

Drenched in water, ignites the inner

In this silent room what should I do

If you not keep your hand in touch of me?

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

Drums Beating in Tune

Drums beating in tune

Heart swells on

Bracing the earth it’s my eyes glitters

It’s my love

My loving hand reaching far from

Gasping and whispering in the ear

Maddened in passion and fire

Descending from heaven

In this deserted earth

Quench the thirst

The soothing light and fur

O beloved, never say `Bye’

Like the petals of the rose

Keep me soft and scented forever and ever.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

Walking On the Sand

I’m walking on the sand

From the very early of the morning to the evening

And rolling through the night

I wander and ponder on the arinaceous world

It’s my challenge to face

My challenge to sing, recite,

Dance or conversate

You, from far and near

Convoke the hands for peer

But what I see on the path?

Water tingling red

Makes me die and live

Love and cry

Sitting by the lost kestrel I can hear

The unheard sound

Death can’t permeate in this quicksand

I’m walking from the early of the day

On the coastal island.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

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