The Lost Rhythm & a Young Aged Author

Somewhere I had read, or might have listened, a musician never retired; he just leaves the stage to find the rhythm again. This cafe when started, I was the most excited one being part of it. And I'm still. Read the full post at Go Dog Go Cafe. [click]  

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অন্য একদিন

তুমি নেই বলে ক্লান্ত চুলে আঙ্গুল চলেনা কারুর তুমি নেই বলে রাত্রির অন্ধকার ফ্যাকাশে (আর) নিস্তব্ধতা নিঃসঙ্গ। পরবাস শহরের বুকে, মুখচোরা ইচ্ছেরা; স্মৃতিরা আছড়ে পড়ে শিশির হয়ে হেমন্তের ভোর আমার মুখ। তুমি নেই বলে উষ্ণতাহীন ভোরের প্রথমালো তুমি নেই বলে...থাক আজ নয় আর-- অন্য কোনদিন।

Saudade II

1. Deep down where the heart rhythm Words taking their birth. The melancholic tune finding a note To be on the sheet music. 2. My old beloved Kolkata shrouding in The young autumn mist. Parapet of cornices bordered by the-- Misty crescent moonlight. 3. Brokenness of the promises splintered Waiting to get scattered. Black of...

27th Not Far…

Dedicating to Sylvia Plath, one of my greatest inspiration.

Murmur

Moon deny darkness...night silver Silence deny silent...fan whirled & whistle We deny arguments...for(the)ever redefined Autumn deny love...words sigh long-deep Room deny darkness...walls halogen-yellow Deny Available at Amazon

Fireflies

the existence of silence can be found in depth of-- the stars; dead sparkling light enchanting. the life can be found throbbing in the bell jar; light, pale golden silver, of moon is hazed blue (from here). memories of past, bygone hoods changing shape with times--sometimes fireflies, sometimes shapeless abstract figures... the bray of heart,...

চৌকাঠ

Scribbled

Blank Darkness

Slowly softly night sipping in My vein as if river passing in Through a narrow throat of-- Mountain. The beats of heart Throbbing, sign of me alive. Night will get deepest in its own; The cry of mother losing her-- Eldest son, the sobbing of sister Losing her only brother will pass Not unheard; silence...

Affair of a Trivial Sunday Morning

A different pattern of poem writing I tried. There was a silence I found self lieng in. A silence that was rising from the waking up Sunday drooling bypass below, running infront house; A silence that was loiterring over the vale of Sweat soaked long-used mattress or is it this Monotonous humdrumed life that's basking...