Poetry from Ashraful Kabir

South Asian man in a brown top with designs down the middle and short brown hair standing in front of a bookshelf.

Evolution

Despite a lot of searching, no road can be seen today.

The only way is to go wrong,

Wandering in the wrong direction;

I lost consciousness on my troubled feet, 

Just behind the illuminated light in an imaginary way.

This is not an intoxication at all

As with any other branches of thought;

Surrounds me like a narcotic.

Question-arrows are thrown at the shadowy time of evening

Hieroglyphic is diagnosed during the trip;

Flying unknowingly, I get indifferent and disappointed, 

Just sit across from the thought behind the conversation.

Yet the same path is often repeated;

I wish I could float a Sampan-boat,

I anchor somewhere near the new lake,

And deliberately change the radar – to the North-south-east-west

Being Amundsen, get involved in searching a new path

Only a difficult vow remains inside the pole of mind.

The pathways are all colourful today. 

The algae and wild high-grasses have sprouted 

Got leaned and worn out. 

Day goes by, night goes by and while waiting for eternity –            

The exhausted path of discovery only turns into an amphibian.

Ashraful Kabir is an essayist & literary critic from East Rampura, Dhaka, Bangladesh. He can be reached at raselasraful@gmail.com


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