Poetry from Mahbub

 

I Am Who I Am

 

So many flowers are in bloom

So many people are passing by

I am a flower watching you all

Though some of you watch me

Some go away without care

I am a candle giving light

Burning myself to spread white

There are many cactuses in my garden

Entwined with thorns

But its green colour attracts us all

We become enchanted

From Bangladeshi bush

I am blowing in the wind

You look or not

I am on my side

You can see me crazy

You can find me

Wandering from door to door

Of  home and office.

 

On My Decay and Doom

 

Day by day I am going to decay

Losing my strength

At one place I’ll finish my time

I can’t deceive you my dear

Love you from the core of my heart

You are my half, I am yours

Mingling with two we are one

You can see me on the footage

Where cherry flowers are shining

Nothing is so charming as this doom

O my friend best luck of you

Round your head wear the garland

Be happy  in every step to ahead

 

 

The Sound of a Falling Rose

Sometime I hear the sound of a rose

Falling from the tree

Sometime in my subconscious mind

I hear the sound of voice

Whom I loved too much

Not we are here but at far distance

Regarding our time and place

Though situation does not support

We come closer, become near

Like a petal of a rose

Fall on the land

As no one can hear the sound

You descend on me

And whisper of the love we made

The sound of a falling rose.

 

 

My Unseen beloved

 

That you went away

Did not come back

I lost your voice so long

You are with the existence of my world

I talk with the objects of nature

You talk to me, my voice

And I utter a long name of you

After a short break

You again appear

Like a ghost you come to me

And start to play my darling

Though not I see you, my beloved

You are too much with me.

 

 

When I sit down to write a poem

 

When I sit down to write a poem

I lose my strength of writing

When I stand before you

I lose my sense of power to speak

I become numb and dumb

Not to be able to walk even

In my garden of flower, in my yard,

On the balcony of my room

To watch the green leaves of the tree

And the birds go away and come back to me

I lose my power to watch

Reality is so harsh and hard

When I hear the news

one is murdered on the way

again the next day after that

I get the same news

I lose my power of body to move

I think and get no other way to remove

Only to remorse and be sympathized with the death.

 

Balubagan, Chapainawabganj

O6/10/2015

 

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