I will take your revenge.
Why don’t you speak?
Life,
that is giving same pain to me.
Come on and tell,
whose pain is more severe?
Wounds,
that inspired you to write,
sweet but sad,
so many songs!
World,
still singing the melodies,
you wrote from your fingers,
dipped in blood!
Me,
I shall make death helpless,
I’ll die for her.
A happy long life to her!
You,
spoke at last, what do you say?
You will reveal a poem to me.
Better than all your poems!
Ready,
yes I am ready to die,
again and again,
Need revelations from you!
Once,
I’ll die for my sweet beloved,
then I’ll die many times,
on beloved revelations!
End
After
Travel
Hunt
Leave a Reply
Life
Goes
To be restart
After the earth.
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 14 July, 2018
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Maketh
Touch,
And forever
I am replaced.
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 18 June, 2018
Leave a Reply
Help
All
To transfer from
Here to there, right.
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 18 June, 2018
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 18 June, 2018
Leave a Reply
World
Ends
Respective zone,
Soul goes with deeds.
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 29 June, 2018
Leave a Reply
World’s
Road;
Is It all? No,
Hereafter starts.
About
RARe Stanza:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6 Lines Poem ─
Syllables Meter: 1-1-1-1-4-4
Rhyme Scheme: aabbca; ababca; aaaaba.
RARe Stanza refers Right Angle Reza Stanza.
Geometric Theoretical Explanation of ‘RARe Stanza’
The 1st 4 (1-1-1-1) lines stand on the last 2 (4-4) lines,
At the joining point, line No. 4 and 5 there the 90º angle is generated;
The 90º angle is known as Right Angle in Geometry.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 8 November, 2018
Leave a Reply
I’m not Irish; but if you were to do
the full Irish thing – take my corpse out of the coffin,
dance wildly round the room with it one by one –
it’d make my day;
I’d remember it all my, death
and I bet you would too.
Though perhaps the tango would be a bit too far.
The funeral:
the not-too-many invitations should say
‘Dress code: happy’. That I’d really like to see.
So I’ll be standing at the lych-gate
like a reporter from the local rag
checking you in.
But if you don’t attend – that’s OK. I wouldn’t like to die
a hypocrite; there’ll be plenty of folk I shall be meeting
whose funeral I didn’t attend, believing as I do
that funerals are for family and just those friends
who wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Forget the flowers – I’d rather see flowers live until they die,
like me; not wither like day-brief memories,
as floral tributes flat on the slab like beached dolphins.
Sing the old favourites. And if you don’t know the tunes or words,
I’m gently sorry for you – it’s good to have them to remember, somewhere back there in the mind.
And if you must have little speeches,
I think I’ll just take a stroll round the graveyard during that bit;
praise only makes me regret more what I didn’t do.
Then if you’re so busy that you leave after the service,
that’s OK – but I’d like to think the best were still to come –
the ‘do’ afterwards – ah, I’ll join you for that:
make it a good one; no food is too good
for the living. I’d like to be the one
handing round the plates of goodies;
whose forearm you gently touch in passing
to murmur a brief word about being missed
which may be truly meant
or found to be true.
I’m not really conversant with this recent ‘Celebration’ thing
though it seems an excellent idea, so positive:
I’d like it, then, to be like that of my beloved friend, John:
where rather than just summon up memories and
share them with each other,
we seemed to be basking in the indescribable privilege
of his friendship
and his love;
which I guess in my case as in his would thus be truly
eternal.
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If we had celebrated their living
knowing that grief would surely come
then grief would have a place;
death
is too late for grief.
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Death most certainly is not.
Until it happens.
Birth
Coming out of there
must be the weirdest journey
of any unborn.
Illness
Should illness strike you,
remember that its cousin
is the Grim Reaper.
Marriage
Once you get married
the value of your dollar
will surely dwindle.
Puberty
The boys have stirrings,
the girls are hit by periods.
And buy their first bra.
Money
It is a product
of services performed and
it makes you comfy.
Sex
The main attraction
seems to consist of something
a bit elusive.
Jack Daniel’s
Flamboyant Jack was
a genius who made whiskey
that one would strip for.
Vodka
Liquor called Vodka
is made from grain most often.
Potato’s better.
Racist
A man with manners,
but somewhat presbyopic
when judging others.
The Devil
He made me do it.
A Hypnotist who knows how.
God did create him.
Automobile
If a Mercedes
it will make you soon forget
lowly Volkswagens.
Doctors
As Nature heals you,
the Doctor watches closely.
Then takes your money.
Lawyers
Opinions differ.
As udders of all cows do.
All lawyers milk them.
Dentists
As you get older
your bark is often bigger.
All dentists like this.
Politicians
They get elected
by dummies who pay money.
And do feel taken.
Homosexuals
Misguided missiles,
finding erotic targets.
While swinging pelvis.
Nude Beach
A bunch of loonies,
comparing in the open
sex apparatus.
Traffic Cop
Man with uniform,
but psychologically
a Robber Baron.
Teacher
Impatient master
of not his own but your life.
Who teaches teachers?
Auto Mechanic
Such greasy fingers,
working on your pride and joy.
And then count money.
Pornography
Money for Honey,
who shows us how we ought to
perform without it.
French Kiss
Sticking one’s tongue in,
to count internal structures
above the stomach.
Army
A bunch of soldiers,
who shoot until they run out
of living targets.
War
Old men in bunkers,
pulling the strings of others.
Until they snap off.
Pope
A man of God who
condemns all poverty but
hoards his own riches.
In Love
Overestimate
the difference between them.
It’s an illusion.
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Death,
Are you the end of all?
My future I know it not,
My life and times!
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I come, care-worn tenant of life, from the grave,
Where Innocence sleeps ‘neath the peace-giving sod,
And the good cease to tremble at Tyranny’s nod;
I offer a calm habitation to thee,–
Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me?
My mansion is damp, cold silence is there,
But it lulls in oblivion the fiends of despair;
Not a groan of regret, not a sigh, not a breath,
Dares dispute with grim Silence the empire of Death.
I offer a calm habitation to thee,–
Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me?
MORTAL:
Mine eyelids are heavy; my soul seeks repose,
It longs in thy cells to embosom its woes,
It longs in thy cells to deposit its load,
Where no longer the scorpions of Perfidy goad,–
Where the phantoms of Prejudice vanish away,
And Bigotry’s bloodhounds lose scent of their prey.
Yet tell me, dark Death, when thine empire is o’er,
What awaits on Futurity’s mist-covered shore?
DEATH:
Cease, cease, wayward Mortal! I dare not unveil
The shadows that float o’er Eternity’s vale;
Nought waits for the good but a spirit of Love,
That will hail their blest advent to regions above.
For Love, Mortal, gleams through the gloom of my sway,
And the shades which surround me fly fast at its ray.
Hast thou loved?–Then depart from these regions of hate,
And in slumber with me blunt the arrows of fate.
I offer a calm habitation to thee.–
Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me?
MORTAL:
Oh! sweet is thy slumber! oh! sweet is the ray
Which after thy night introduces the day;
How concealed, how persuasive, self-interest’s breath,
Though it floats to mine ear from the bosom of Death!
I hoped that I quite was forgotten by all,
Yet a lingering friend might be grieved at my fall,
And duty forbids, though I languish to die,
When departure might heave Virtue’s breast with a sigh.
O Death! O my friend! snatch this form to thy shrine,
And I fear, dear destroyer, I shall not repine.