Best Bangladeshi Poems
You my friend In White Saree and grim faced
Your dresses were, as always, colorful and laced
What happened to that enchanting, infectious smile?
Where is that enthusiasm, your charming style
Death is a reality and everyone must die
The living ones mustn't be left for agony to fry
Humans are not candles that burns through the night
Tell me why widowers are not made to wear White
Why should only women this branding endure
They are also human with a heart and soul for sure
Change this White Saree and in the garbage throw
This is how a system that is archaic must go
Come to me, my love, let me teach you what is life
Your being mustn’t be embodiment of agony and strife
Give up this white coffin and wear red, scarlet and pink
The fountain of life is gushing out; it is for you to drink
Let us, like our olden days, in horizon of thoughts fly
Life’s rainbows await you; so do colors of butterfly
Shed your gloom and let the roses of your cheeks blossom
Walk along the valley of life hand in hand with a handsome
1. Widowed women wear only white in Hindu Religion
2. Saree is the dress of Indian and Bangladeshi women
White Saree
You my friend! In White(1) Saree(2) and grim faced
Your dresses were, as always, colorful and laced
What happened to that enchanting, infectious smile?
Where is that enthusiasm, your charming style?
Death is a reality and everyone must die
The living ones mustn’t be left for agony to fry
Humans are not candles that burn through the night
Tell me why widowers are not made to wear White
Why should only women this branding endure
They are also human with a heart and soul for sure
Change this White Saree and in the garbage throw
This is how a system that is archaic must go
Come to me, my love, let me tell you what is life
Your being mustn’t be embodiment of agony and strife
Give up this white coffin and wear red, scarlet and pink
The fountain of life is gushing out; it is for you to drink
Let us, like our olden days, in horizon of thoughts fly
Life’s rainbows await you; so do colors of butterfly
Shed your gloom and let the roses of your cheeks blossom
Walk along the valley of life hand in hand with a handsom
------
(1) In Hindu religion the widowed women are forced to wear only white cotton clothes
(2) Traditional dress of Indian & Bangladeshi women and also some other far eastern countries
Poor Man On A Bike
There is a viral photo of an Indian/Bangladeshi on a bike...
With 5 little children and his bedraggled suffering wife....
They all are seated on the bike, one kid seated up on his neck...
Another was sandwiched between him and his wife seated behind.....
Another kid was seated precariously on the handlebar of the bike...
One child was seated in the front basket to sandwich his kid brother against the father...
You and I, we see a poor man on a motorbike..
We shake our heads and wondered inwardly how they survive....
For the poor man, his children are his wealth....
With blessings from God above, he will be alright...
Yes, for the present he suffers to provide...
But over the passage of time, his many children will prove him right...
The poor man knows, it is a challenge to provide for his large family...
But when they are grown, they are priceless assets he owns...
For the poor man and his wife, his children are God given assets....
His duty is not to moan and groan why, his is to provide and survive....
Heavens on earth comes later when all his kids are grown...
For the present, he is just another Poor Man On A Bike....
Hohoho....
Mr. Robinson’s going into a coma
Slowly… gradually…
All his family’s seeing him
But nothing to do anything
Mr. Robinson’s going into a coma
What a deep sleep it’s!
How much long a death is it?
Little by little Mr. Robinson’s
going to be unconscious…
The sun will rise in the east
The sun will set in the west
Moons…
New moon
Half moon
Full moon-
How many silver moons as glittering coin of 5 Taka*
Will come and down in the night- sky?
Mr. Robinson will sleep for how many days
And his family will stand beside his bed
Being anxious family members
Will stare at him for how so long…?
His body’s going to be frozen
Sense’s going to an unknown world
Heart beat’s being slower
Mr. Robinson’s going into a coma
Slowly… gradually…
*Taka= Bangladeshi money
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day.
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence....
dense in emotions, ribbons wrapped in whims
A word or two, wander at times.
You will be mine, one walkway, under the shades of greeneries
You will touch one unmindful chime, rhyme, cascades of tunes
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence....
If you are there, o muse, to splash once with your touch, gentle
I will cherish the moment, to plead, “Do, o thee, do!”,
once in an up roaring drizzle.
I am a traveler, stranger of your indifferent sacred temple
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day.
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence.
Acknowledgement : Bappa Mazumder
Bangladeshi singer.
The gentle breeze will blow,
It will bring news for new.
The old will become young,
Everywhere the birds will make song.
Bangladeshi white lily will offer their fragrant,
There will be no chance to be arrogant.
The rain will put their droplets on the water,
The golden frogs will dance here and there.
The pigeons will make love up on the tree,
The nature makes everything for them free.
We know our life is so short,
Sometimes we can pass our life into a resort,
If we deposit today's joy for tomorrow,
May be tomorrow we will have to face sorrow.
After day there will be night,
The days beauty will be out of sight.
The flowers beauty is very dear,
Enjoy its fragrant before its disappear.
No more chatting for the past,
Nor for the future, let our lives go fast.
Shahadat has made the journey to life for you,
If he dies earlier there will be left lots of due.
I
If your national and ethnic loyalties cannot understand other views of YOU, how are u better than Putin & his supporters?
Study ethnoi, ethnicity, nationalism ... And European wars (numerous) even under the Church - plus the CRUSADES, and we are just as right & WRONG as Hitler, Saddam Hussein & Vlad Putin. Yeah! Did Vietnam War reveal ignorance about nationalism, communism, or anti- imperialism? More?
II
America got one thing right: you may have various ethnicities, but there is one Nation. But USA had to fight empires (French, British, Native American) to create this enlightened nationalism under European experience. Sad, the Native Americans had little european-style experience of State violence (militarisation)
III
Indian, Bangladeshi, and Pakistani nationalism shows ANCIENT PEOPLE - ONE CULTURE can crash on the rocks of rather new, modern language and religion. First we divide on religion, then the same faith-peopke divided again. Pakistan and Bangladesh broke up Pakistan (in the 1970s) & went to war on one base called linguistic nationalism (think Belgium!)
IV
Knee-jerk reactions to fellow poets is not a healthy poetry site. Do we promote Jingoism? Another word for ethnocentrism? That's why BLACK LIVES MATTER surfaces with opposing hate back & forth, not much communication
Summary: Nationalism gives off much heat and hate, not much light.
Riding a local train
through the Bangladeshi scorching heat
an old man told me
how his houses were submerged
into the Bay of Bengal at night.
Fifty men of Bangladeshi mining workers have to sleep-
A large room in a warehouse,
While the light reservoir plays all the time,
From there, sometimes the sound of tired crying is fiddling.
The palms of their hands are like stiff rocks,
With that hand they have to cut stones,
The sweat is coming out from thier body,
They are going through the pressure of excessive work pressure.
Thousands of people are carried at dawn-
The train is reached by the dark cave,
Someone says 'save me', someone says, Oh! Oh! !
Some people blame their fate.
During lunch, they look intently,
Japanese engineers eat the table in the shady tent,
They pass their time with smiles,
But the workers stand by plate with their hands.
There is no place for them to sit,
There is no table for them,
Many people want to make chaos,
There is no one to hear their complaints.
After a while everything has gone as before,
They keep weaving new new dreams,
They want to get their relatives left at home,
Someday they will dance with the loud cry.
I am not ugly but no one loves me
They are so hungry for sex and money!
I am not sexually impotent guy
But up to now my life is full of good bye!
The people insult me for my gray hairs
They do the things whatever devil dares!
God knows I am not at all a bad person
But they treat me so bad for no good reason!
Should an office employ
50 men 50 women
87 white British with 7 of them Asian
2 Indians 2 from Pakistan
1 from China 1 Japan
1 Bangladeshi and 1 Black man
90 on the right hand
10 use the left
A division of political
and religious belief
Or we could employ those
considered the best
Does experience growth
beat education that knows
I think people get jobs because
they know the right people
Get opportunity just because
they grow close to right people
Obviously suck ups brown nosers and muppets
make up the crowd that firstly will profit
and yes men get suggestions and also move up it
they are given authority and of course it’s corrupted
This allows discrimination of individuals not a race one
Some personal history is resolved out of its placement
It’s a spread of the slander from the people who lead
Because their employment position means they are believed
They attack staff who perform well in their job
Information about them that their boss will stop
as they claim their a problem even though they are not
more intelligent and capable not suck ups taking shots
The people in charge have no backbone or grace
backed up by those lacking honour two faced
these are the leaders, the ones who succeed,
Equality seekers have no influence over greed
Mr. Ashraful Hossen alias Hero Alom
Bangladeshi model and political gnome
Though so many trolls against him
He is still dogged in his work hymn
© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
15/02/2023
I am not a writer, not a poet, not a literateur, not a critic
I am a reader, like to read myself within world literature
I write sometimes something willy-nilly,
I write the whirling words of my mind haphazardly
I write in different website by different name
My writings are me, the real me not for fame
Here I cry
For the absolute sight
To lit self inner light
as the godly eye
By born Bangladeshi I am,
like to live around the world through poetic diction.
Love everyone as a human being.
Although your thorn bleeds me
Yet, I give you ROSE.
Cause I love you.
I cannot bear the sword to kill you
in those of my hands I've carried flowers
Because I love you and this I'm, the love for you.
This you are my life, my universe, and my GOD.
I sow a seed of ROSE into the pure soil of my heart
for everything and everyone
This world is full of verities colors
I need every single color
By these colors, I want to dye me
I want to spread the seed of ROSE over the entire world
Every petal of this ROSE will carry PEACE and FRAGRANCE of LOVE for everyone
For me-
Knowledge is a supreme power
Love is almighty and worshiping tower
Love through knowledge is almighty supreme GOD
Love, love everyone, love you all O HUMAN being.
-Chattogram, Bangladesh
I am handed a bottle of wine
I am told it's French and then, well, that's it
I offer my son another mint
He'll one day discover mint sauce
I'm drinking yoghurt out of a glass
I'm annoyed at the hotel buffet
The fried eggs have all gone
The chef can't keep up
I offer my services behind the counter
I hear the waiter changing his accent with different customers (again)
Love waffles
A bowl of stupid
Liquid breakfast
Eat my shorts
But there was man
Who wanted a statue of himself
In his hometown
On horseback
In the nude
Name a bus shelter after me
Backpack without a "space", enter without an "e" and sift without a "h"
My Typing speed keeps me in "strumming" exemption these days,
as these are seasoned in radius and ulna, non-prolific though
They hold the state "pliant" without foretelling as stories are often foretold
killing softly in the right quotient is a decisive skill building, willy or con
and above average will be the bestowed perseverance in conceptual belief about oracle
as we all say, If God wills, we will. He shall prevail. He shall be.
I was proposed in an ultrasound session if I will think about abortion
Few years later, he was giggling with his sister inside my paps lab
When he was six months, he giggled with me inside my bathtub, and we
both needed daycare, badly. I, to remember, and he to be steadfast in remembrance.
I, not be landed. and he with his polymath tester, to measure hector, acre , and milli too!
Around February 21st, a few Bangladeshi Masjid do remember Malcom X, and icebreakers
are often weaving through the Jammu kashmir crossing the place poems on both sides
After all, hadi, they, hadi, say!
Only I feel panick attack sometimes, as if my parents are still alive, still olive green.
Neither of the east and nor of the west
Where they were in Netherland and Norway crest, pious souls, to mourn for many more upcoming days!