POEM

Asad Chowdhury
Perspiring
Cursing my enemies, I say,
The past was vast and long in size,
The future a bit lank by comparison,
Slightly pale, and smaller in bulk as well.
The scope of work has shrunk,
A good reason for lazing around –
No matter how grey the nearer past,
The nearer it snuggles up in a wily way.
I’ve no desire for new stones,
Yet roaming peaks and caves and beaches goes on.
Just because I’m lucky, something comes along
In return for the old bouquet of flowers, though.
You’d hear the echo of the future
In life, in dream, in memory
Apathetic to judgement, patient and forgiving –
Yet, alas, your body sweats your mendicancy.

A brief doze

And, then, rushed in,
the dream of correction and compensation,
with pomp and splendour

No stir of consent, though, in creepers of unknown trees
Thank God, a pale moon rose,
A pleasant, refreshing slice of moon,
Calling up the forest into view.

Dream-wall
Dreams have no doors nor walls
They wander like open skies,
White birds
flying
circling
In the deep blue sky.
Some raise charming walls in dreams
Wishing to snatch away dreams
Desiring to cover them up in dresses
Clumsy and awkward like camels-
This is their ambition.
Only poets can hear
The lament for power.
Are dreams, then, some hopeless expectations
Shut up within walls?

–Translation : Masud Mahmood

Haiku
Ashraful Musaddeq

Yellow
no reservation
on vacant heart to dwell
 a yellow leaf

Zero
tears of cloud
anguish melting down
zero needs zero

Zero
flying pigeon
flying particles of
absolute zero

Good Morning
Shamsul Alam Belal

Good Morning my dear, it is now quarter to five,
Your eyes are in silent prayers, my eyes are alive,
You are drinking serene verses of the holy Quran,
Your lips are Almighty’s domain, I am there none,
You are not bothered about ups and downs in life,
I am deprived of a sweet thing stored in my wife,
You are sobbing in prayer for heaven after death,
I am yearning for hours to feel your warm breath.