The reason I write is not you

For their awkward sycophancyAnd got wholesome praiseIn exchange of their saleable loyaltyBut there are people, too,Unlucky and unfortunateThey are punished for no mistake of theirsBut for their outshining intellect and merit.

the big things small poets take onThe bigger is the poet smaller is the thingcharms magnificence tit bit and wonderHe writes on, the very common withmighty observation, gives a model figureon his speech: how daily the spoon stealshis dish, the rose in the heart with thornsmakes him bleed, delight hides behindviews just he needs to…

And craft of speechSilently sits on the fenceHolding his tongue tightAnd see the fun when tastelessJokes being cracked uponThe poor, weak and downtrodden.But the dumb knowsNeither rest nor respiteUntil he shoots his shoutsThrows his disgust and angerThrough the language of his bodyWith the help of gestureAgainst the filth, liesDeception and injustice of an oppressorThe man…

আর ঘৃণা করার কথা? ওটাকে মধু কাপড়ে বেঁধেপুটলি করে চালের বাতিতে রাখবো গুঁজেভ্রাতৃত্ববোধ আর ভালোবাসা পরউপকার আর মঙ্গল কামনাকরে তুলবো আমার জীবনের বাসনাহৃদয়ে তুলবো সমুদ্রের ফেনার মতো শুভবুদ্ধিহরিণের মতো চারন ভুমিতে করবো বিচরণকিন্তু কারো সম্পদের উপর দেবনা কু দৃষ্টিগীবত বা চুগলখুরি বলে কিছু আর রাখবো নাভাংচি আর ঈর্ষা দেবো সব তুলে ছাদেষড়যন্ত্রের আর ষ মাড়াবো…

i keep myself in joy and happinessbut in recent times my sadness knows no boundswhen i am being taughtlove and peacefrom those who live in a housebuilt upon a occupied landfrom a nasty invaderwhen i am being toldto keep calm and to be quiteand not to loose my mindon and offi keep myself in sorrow…

On white pagesSee the hair rising warOn the screen of televisionWe do not supportThey are not our real representativeOf us and our countryWe believe in true democracyThey are our elected readersWho vote for them!We do not supportTheir colour is not oursWe swear, we are allThe real peace lovers! ! !

Well, my writing may not be for youYou are grown up fool and you have another work to doBut why do I write, the question, pops up in my mindOthers say, writing is a kind of psycho therapyThen promptly comes up a poet and asksDo you mean then all writers are psycho patients?OMG! OMG! How…

of so manypoems and songsfull of love as in factthere is none a bit of” take”can make you hate so much asdeep as a bit of ‘’give” can makeyou rise high in love, disrespects are notallowed till it falls out as much as respectdemands before fall in it as we can beso much unfaithful as…

i am your subordinateyou are an indiscipline and a fool.

You need not to bother them at allIt is true that I am angry and vexedAnd that is not with any one of youBut i am enraged and infuriated with myselfTo lead a life and just to sustainI need to go down and to such a lowFrom taking bribery to telling liesDoing conspiracy and spreading…

And they never show their prideThe sky is high and vastStill she casts her glance upon us fastHills are high and bigThey never belittle us or even a twigThe sun and the moon you seeThey never tired; they give us light with gleeWaters flow winds blowSometimes quick sometimes slowIn the sky little stars glowOh! Human,…

Attacked by few petty moralists;I will teach them a bitter lesionIt may take considerable timeYet I will take sweet revengeWith every bit of my ignorance;My poem is not as popular asVulgarity, obscenity and profanityYet I wonder if I do not eat grassThen who are they, the moralistsSecretly make porn world famous;It will take time to…