The Death of The Dog
Mahbub, a Bangladeshi author and English teacher
It was just at the evening
Finishing my morning prayer at the mosque
I kept my feet on the highway
A sound stroke my head and heart
As it was knocked down by a vehicle
Moaning and groaning so poor in condition
Sickly sound the last for ever
Stop my breath taking for a while
Just like a baby before going to sleep
Keeping its front hands to its mother’s head whimpered
The last pathos lost for all
Brimming to the air
Revolved my mind and mentality
We all are going to pass the silence of the night.
Nightmare
We are born ambitious
Like to rise high, fly in the sky
Flow on the water, to the highest pick of the mountain
The lives lay flat on the ground
Innumerable skulls deep in the whole
Gnarled in the open air
We die every time in our sleep
Every night we roar and moan in nightmare
We struggle for something
We die for something for the next welfare
Achieved or not
But die for achieving till the point of the result
The ship is bound to the harbor
But found always in midst of the ocean
Sinking and rising
Making the belly a football
Crawling a long way seem to be too tired
Not to be able to enter into the hall
The sun rays too hot
The tigers devour the body
Bloods seeping from above
How can I escape?
Emancipation
Many children have been lost in the manhole
Many lost in the dark
Many fought but defeated in the struggle
Many spend the nights by the highways in the dirt and dust
What they eat we never think for
They don’t have the courage to the white spark
Man is born free but not for other’s future
We struggle only for power and dignity
We never keep our hand to the helpless world
We demand not so heavy only for the right to be loved
To take away from the condition of starvation
To plan for rehabilitation and sanitation
We eat we bleed angry and hungry
How can we flee from this dying and suffocating world?
Will it ever be possible to inhale the fresh air?
Is there any unseen hand that might emancipate us?
Come On, O Raindrops
The sky is ready with clouds
Pours the drops of rain
The thirsty land quenches its throat
From many years the leaves dried or dying
Likely to get drenched by the water
Thrives from the core of heart
Turn back me
Spread your hand over
Just like the water from the sky
Fill up the gaps green and fresh
So peaceful to the sight
Burning my body turning to death
O dear, come on.
Play Ground
In every step of age we are playing
Even in the sleep we play
As long as our heart beats
We play struggling to throw the ball in the goal post
We clap our hands glitter the eyes
We dance sigh a relief wind
I am to you are to me
We walk hand in hand in the ground
We look forward behind
Take care to win for the next time
The spectators on the gallery
Crying laughing
Defeated winner
In every step of life we are playing.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
07/07/2018
Five awesome poems that seeks the meaning of life and death. The words stir the emotions of its readers, bringing forth a yearning to understand and emphasize . I love how The Death of the Dog reminds me of my mortality. The struggle, the ease and peace in dying. I love how Nightmare reminds me of the fears and struggles with hopelessness in being in a situation I have no control of. I love how Emancipation reminds me of struggles to survive, the indifference towards giving hands to those who are helpless, the apathy, disappointments and disillusions in life. I love how Come On, O Raindrops reminds me of unquenchable thirst and hunger, yearning for nature to quench and sate yet not nurturing nature for world’s salvation. I love how Playground reminds me of the games we play in order to survive the rat race helpless and blinded by ambitions and peer expectations.. Truly thought provoking and self realising experience.
Sorry for the autocorrect mistakes, like Empathize changed to Emphasize and Self-realising to Self realising