But something
I feel
In my mind,
Which I can not explain
You do not have
The beauty which mesmerises
Nor have you
The prettiest face
You are just another
Normal human being
But my heart sings
A song
Full of praise
Of it
I never heard
That before
And it speaks to me
So softly
As wind speaks
To the trees
Before I can say
Anything
You are gone
Drops of tears fall
On the floor
I do not suppose
To realise it coming
As it was such
A spontaneous overflow
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দরজাহীন ঘর
এবং একটি দরজাদরজাটি দীর্ঘদিন আগেই বন্ধ হয়ে গেছেকারন সেটি ছিল একটি তৈলাক্ত যন্ত্রআর তেল শুকিয়ে যাওয়ায় বহু কষ্ট করেও খোলা যায় নাতবে মেঝেটি রয়েছে উজ্জ্বল প্রথম প্রেমে পড়া বন্ধুর চোখের মতআর জানলা দুটি এখনও পূর্ণিমার চাঁদের আলোর মত স্নিগ্ধকেউ কেউ লিখে চলেছেন দুল দুল দূর্বা ঘাসের পশম উষ্ণতার কথাদিচ্ছেন রৌদ্রের বর্ণনা কিংবা ফুলেরআমরা এখন দুজনে…
They never criticize me
A friend or foe!Different is the purpose thoughBut yet very usefulFor a curse or blissAs not bad as the indifference is.The line is very thinBetweenBlasphemy and criticismShould be taken into accountThe intention and motivationThe unknown takes the line blasphemousVery badly hits the greatsOvernight to become famous.
Frequently I wish to be seen
Like many but they never invite me as I am a very ordinary man.I frantically search the waysScrutinize the graph the rise of the people shownAnd become famousI find in them many qualitiesThey follow many rulesOne of those: they are very amicableWhich I lack mostIf the rise of a life is through the rulesIt curtails…
Sign is more direct
But both indicate and help us to communicateSo, once symbol wrote to signBut sign made out of it, nothingYou are a most unfortunateAnd I am the worse owner of fateHow can I tell you anything direct?Read my eyesLook at my heartThey both tell you something indirectlyAnd that is also in a nut shellHow can I…
Dreams keep people awake
Hope helps them to be aliveLove nourishes life.Benevolence increases the graceCoveting eats up your fleshAnd a lie can make your life a hellAnd life has a long story to tell!Hypocrite seals his own soulJust to meet the end, is his only goalTrick is the weapon of the foolTrap is the tricky man’s toolFear is the…
A letter I wrote today a bitter one to give none but myself
As you all know, I am very proud to have my wide range of wisdomWhich I earned from my high education from different institutionsRecently when I talk to myself I understandWith me something has gone terribly wrongI check and recheck yet I get the same resultI am shocked and too much scaredI find my knowledge…
A beauty never seen before
And thanked God
As for His creation,
Wonderful indeed.
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The sly, undermerit fellows from other states,
Turn to the northeast mountainous and hillyTerrains and wildsAs for easy assignmentsIn colleges and universitiesAnd after substantiating their respective positions,Start calling themselvesExperts or new criticsOf the poetry in English from the northeastThough there is nothing like thatAnd had it beenWe would have heard about definitely.The simple teachers from other statesAre trying their best to come…
Who the Hunza people,
Where the Hunza Valley,How their customs and dialects,The mountainous area peopleOf Gilgit-Baltistan?How their costume,Folk tuning,Folk rhythm and song,Folk art and performance,The flute calling from,The people of Gilgit-Baltistan,The Hunza people?
By the ghats of Benares
Slept under the openMarking the nightsWith the bodiesBurning in the crematoriumMeditating on life and death.A pilgrim, Western pilgrimIn quest of peace and rehabilitation,Mental peace and happinessCame heEscaping the psychic turmoilHappening within.Allen GinsbergIn search of happiness and peace,Mental peace and happiness,In search of an IndiaSeen from far,So sacred, held in faithAnd confidence.The India of charlatans and…
Dark is beautiful, try to feel,
From the fold of darkness.
For to be a poet, you have to be sensitive,
And without being sensitive,You cannot be a poet.For to be a poet, you have to be a reader,An observerOf life around youAnd of the world you dwell in.For to be a poet, a lover’s heart is a mustAnd without loving anyone,You cannot be a poet.I do not ask you to love and girlOr fall in…
Howl,
What howl?The howl of a soul,Bewildered and at a lossIn angst and depression.A generation pathlessAnd bewildered,Lost in search of pleasureGetting misledAnd finding no waysTo be back home,So forgetful ofAnd bewildered.Trying to knowWhat happiness is,But can it be possible?Drugged and dodgedPenitent of,Feeling sinfulAnd as well as voluptuous,Misled on the path of life,Going nowhereFrom where the return…
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And as thus love was born.
A bolt from the blue
And awe-struck stood I
After seeing my love.
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Daru, daru, daru,
The bottle and relationship,Daru piyo and joke with,Wine bottles and brandsThe chief property of his,Taking daru,He listening toThumri, khyal and ghazal,Classical music,Reading Urdu shayariAnd the mood colouringIn the good spiritAnd joviality upkept..
Where did it come from,
Where to go it day and night?
Do you love me? Do you love me?
Do you loe me, love me?What is it in your love specialThat you saying, love me, love me,Do you love me? , ‘Said she the girl teasingly.Again, again, said he,‘Do you love me, do you love me? ‘‘O, what is it kept in, do you love me, love me,How long will you keep saying?I love…
Sir, where is the Ph.D. mart,
Where is the Ph.D. mart?I want to be a Ph.D.She asked about it.Again added she,What will take?I shall not write,He will,I mean my guide.
Burquawalli, wherever go you, I shall keep following you,
My shy and coy mistress,In the dark you going on a bullock-cart to your country homeAnd I seeing you hidingly.
The ass or the donkey
The conservation status of itTalk I,the conservation status of it,How did the beast one dayServe us,The beast of burden,The washer men using itIn taking the cloth bundlesTo the ghat?Now the depleting numbersIs a cause of worry,Deeper concern,The falling numbers of the assOr the donkeyAs you call it.
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A girl whom took I for my love and life,
Is love a meeting
Of strangers merely?
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O singer, where lie you,
To sing is your job,Nay to see how the coming generations take them up!
Aapko dekhkar
Aapko dekhkar,Dekh-dekhkar,Aapko dekh-dekhkarKahi,Kashi pyaar na ho jaayei,Ho jayeiAapko,Aapko dekh-dekhkar,Aapko-aapko,Aapki-aapki aankhon ko,Aankhon koDekh-dekhkarKahi,Kahi pyaar na ho jaayei,Jaayei!On seeing youHave started fearing,On seeing you,Seeing-seeing,On seeing-seeing you,Maybe,Maybe it fall I in love,Maybe in,You,On seeing-seeing you,You-you,Your-your eyes,EyesSeeing-seeing themMaybe,Maybe it fall I in love,Maybe it!
Those who had not to be guides
Here in IndiaAnd those had to beAre walking on the footpath,This is IndiaWhere genius is called abnormal and is ridiculed,Genius dies a poor death.
I am a poet-lover
For the belovedTo stick into the braid of the hairAnd the twinkles embossed upon the sariOf the nightly maiden.
Kali
How to bust it?KaliThe Dark GoddessWith the tongue outOf the mouth.In Anger DivineWith traditional weaponsInto Her four handsWearing a garland of heads.
Lost Love, The Solitary Reaper
All Things Bright And beautifulBy Cecil Francis Alexander,Up-hillBy C.G.Rossetti,He That Is Down Needs Fear No FallBy John Bunyan,VirtueBy George Herbert,MarthaBy Walter de la Mare.
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at dawn.
You stood
and simply washed,
while pale-faced twins
regarded me,
who was
well hidden
in the forest’s trees.
My heart stood still,
fell into silent mode,
so deep in love
that it can never
be undone.
It’s been
a thousand dawns
that I have stood
to see you there.
In love but filled with fear.
While you,
oblivious to me,
just stand there,
in the icy waters.
And simply wash.
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All poetry, says Greenwolfe must
from deep within its heart of prosenon-rhyming stuff is on the nose!Says Carter, let me tell you folksmost English poets (please no jokes)wrote stuff that never rhymed at alltherefore, its logical to callall prose of class and lacking rhymethe pride of this, our modern time.Lamont butts in with more astuteand somewhat sensical and cuteassessment of…
And there it was,
all things he valuedin this rotten world.The very thought of itcould dry his throatand bring a tear or twoto eyes that had,since they could seebeen smotheredby its very presence.He had to leave the city,the Russkies could be heardacross the river Spree,a Hansa car was readyand had been loadedwith rags and medicinesboth for the poor and…
It would be really very funny
if suddenly the numbers changedas if the world were now deranged.That sow size forty would just flipand run around, then take a tripto places that are primitivewhere they would try to reason ifsome grounds for leniency existbut after tests they do insistthat lessies with their shoulder padswho play their games, then look at statscan never…
And do you think
I’m on the brinkto show you, Mary,I could have beenwell, somehow wrong?There is an inklingin my mindit drifts aroundjust like a songand in the morningafter tinklingwhen all my teethwant to be seennobody lefttruly behind?I’ve heard thatsometimes,stone meets stone,and calcitoninmakes the boneand that, belatedlyand strangely,the blueberryand thistle vinesare friends withoutthe recognition.And was it reallythe great Croninwho…
She’s always been my favourite girl,
a boy who’d stand in her defenseand told his buddies that she wasalways off limits for the crowd,sort of untouchable, of snow white purity,not to be even talked aboutamong the boys who grew and blewto snuff the candles out, if they were litand mussed the flaxen hair of youthwhile slyly peeking under cloth,to find the…
Ahhhhhhh, the sound of bliss and comfort
first having passed those miracles of craft,such handsome specimens, so lovingly createdby my young dentist, who -still laughing- clicked them in.Arthritic wrists no longer need to worry,their brushing days are over, now we have solutions.My grandson runs back from the barand nearly spills that unnamed drink,I think it might be called Jack Something, well,one cannot…