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Best Poems Written by Jayeeta Shamsul

Below are the all-time best Jayeeta Shamsul poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

The Wise Owl

I am a white owl,
I listen to people’s scowl,
I turn a deaf ear to a drunk’s howl,
I don’t quench my thirst from your water bowl!
I come out at midnight,
So that, I don’t get to see you fight,
You can’t see my flight,
Still, I observe your helpless plight.
I am watchman of darkness,
I don’t get to share your happiness,
I am a wicked sorceress,
As I only watch your distress.
I am a great observer,
I am silent reporter,
I am a midnight dealer,
I am hopeless beggar
I weave proverbial satire,
I check your inner desire.
I am never the filler of your bread,
I am the hardest nut inside your chocolate,
My god is greater than your god,
I am the very pet owl of tribal god,
You can’t chain me on a rod,
I am the oddest of odds.
I often sit on your rooftop,
I observe the view from atop,
When clouds are my only neighbors,
I can inhale the sky’s odor.
I feel so small amid the sky-scrappers!
I can bring about good luck,
By sitting once on your rooftop,
I am emblem of wealth,
I value people’s sweats.
I am crusader of darkness,
I curse the conspirators,
I am pacifist minister,
I do betray the emperor!
Today, I am a wise owl of time,
I am wizkid of prime,
I am a bastard wisdom tooth,
You can’t take off from mouth,
I am a silent shout out!
I come out at night,
I eye people with my eyes,
I feel for those who can’t come out in daylight,
Every person has the right, to bask on sunlight.
No rule, no occupation can snatch their right.
I am your silent knight,
I am only observing your plight.

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

The Bad Woman

Everyone calls her ‘bad’
I’ve never seen her sad,
She is vivid on own fad,
For her I am mad!
Her lips are tangerine from beetle stains,
Her fingertips contain henna stains,
Watching her I evaporate my stains.
When she is in pain, it really rains.
She is a dark woman, whom all hates,
She is a taboo, whom they tolerate,
I want to tear up her outer façade.
She wears a coiled “bindi” on her forehead,
She is miles away from being sacred,
Still, she doesn’t deserve this much hatred.
She chews tobacco with areca nuts,
She pops tobacco and cashew nuts,
Everybody hates the way she smacks,
Kohl pencil makes her eyes dark,
Her attitude makes her ever darker,
I hope her “bindi” glows in the dark,
She demolishes all the perks.
For her, I am total jerk.
I love her silver jewelries,
She, herself is a revelry,
I love the sound of her bangles,
I love the way her waist-chain dangles.
She beads traditional woman tattoo on skin,
She doesn’t live in anyone else’s skin.
Her forehead accumulates the power,
 She is the solo woman in sun-shower,
She is a mix of sacred and secret,
She is never a taboo,
 She is life’s hullabaloo,
 She is the hymn of voodoo!!

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An Anklet of Whim

I am a woven thread of red, white and yellow,
I make hundred emotions mellow,
I transcend your walk into a flight of swallow,
With chimes, I fulfill nature’s hollow.
 I am a woven thread with possible decors,
You love the way I adore,
I see the world through your color,
I inhale the world through your odor.
I will be your solo anklet,
I will embellish your ankle,
I will cover your wrinkle,
I will make tiny bells jingle,
I will make chimes sprinkle,
I will spread happiness,
Being your anklet.
I have two beads and a bell,
I don’t make sonorous sounds real,
I have pop colors to make you feel well.
On your ankle, I dwell,
Like a precious threaded jewel.
I won’t let anything harm you,
I won’t let a scratch to attack you,
I will turn myself into a black thread,
I will add an evil eye bead,
I will protect you from every danger,
I will be the solo ranger,
On your left toe.
On your ankle, I will be red string of fate,
Keeping me, you will find your soulmate.
I will be sea green beads on your toe-ring,
I will be the silver drops that always shine,
I will make you smile,
When you touch me, remembering sunshine.
I will be your sunshine,
I will glisten in moonshine,
Because your body is my shrine;
I am the flower oblates on your feet,
 I am the threaded anklet over your brood.
I might be a mere glass bead string,
I am your accessory ever dazzling.
I am the happiness, always raining.
I am your ankle-string, always roaming,

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

The Feather of Love

The Feather of Love:
I aired a stray feather to see it flying;
I gazed it flowing in the wind;
I loved its whitish tone;
I loved the natural print upon.
I don’t know how it managed to come back,
How it never ceases to make me taken aback!
I only marked its return,
It truly turned me on,
It made my heart adorn,
A bizarre cloak of its own.
I penned my feelings with this feather,
From the ink of my heart.
I caressed my lover with its touch,
I attached it to my dream catcher,
It is suddenly my feather wizard!
I added it to a belle’s headgear,
To make her carnival look sheer,
I loved this feather on gala days,
So, I wish its company on a sad day.
I desire its touch to console myself.
I want it to erase my tears,
If that carnival girl sheds my feather!
I gifted this feather to a tribal boy,
He added this on his necklace,
It adorned his neck with stones and beads,
It gave him a taste of skirmish.
To his tribe, feather means ornament,
Printed feather means totem’s presence,
But he wore the feather in his lover’s absence!
I attached the feather to a whore’s anklet,
She caused murmur in my heart’s Brooklet.
I loved to see the feather flow, 
As she walked!
She gave me a yellow feather from her bun,
I loved her hairs flowing auburn,
She was like a new dawn,
Amid the darkness of my own.
I exchanged my feather with her,
She was my true dream catcher,
She made my heart render,
In unknown splendor!!
Now I own her yellow feather,
I will never let it wither,
From the fuliginous dusts of air.
I keep it inside my book,
I accompany it on my bed,
It’s the solo companion on my brood,
It raises ripples on my heart’s brook!!
Then, on a gloomy noon the whore returned,
Once again, ‘I’m rocked.
She discovered her lost feather,
Dangling from my dream catcher,
She immediately hugged me into a kiss,
She melted me into total bliss.
Still, she took out the yellow feather soon,
And called me a ‘goon’
As if I never deserved the feather,
As if I am lover of weather!!
When I demanded my printed feather,
She detached it from her waist-dangler,
I loved the fact, she loved my feather,
And kissed on her hair.
So, she promised to remember me as a familiar stranger,.
She’ll now give the feather to her new lover,
I’ll never let her sweet memory disappear,
By the way, returned my whitish printed feather!!

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

The Scroll of Sorceress

The Scroll of Sorceress:
I do dark arts,
I do allure men to beat drums,
I cast spell through evil eye beads,
My dirty tricks no one reads,
I am someone who never cheats.
I am dark art goddess,
I am wise sorceress!!
I am black magic woman,
I can shun every omen,
I purify things in my oven,
I romance with raven,
I love the idea of ‘Amen’.
I write sagacious scrolls,
I recognize the precious stones,
I make perfume from touchwoods,
I create geometric signs to search hidden gold.
I learn oral-fictions from people,
I love how children giggle,
I hear the murmur of Brooke’s ripple.
Sometimes, I hate to deal with wisdom jiggle.
I do worship tribal totems,
I make sacred threads in their names,
I pour folk medicines into my talismans,
Still, I make people believe in magic essentials!!
I read books with my philosopher lover,
He stays with me till the day is over,
With him I desire to hover,
Around the world!!
He is the prophet of wisdom,
He knows the language of freedom,
He considers my scrolls superficial;
Above all, he’s my lover sagacious!!
He is philanthropist to the humanity,
Still, he desires to apply rules on me,
He wants me to be his personal sorceress
But I’m my spells’ seductress!!
The thread b/n us leans a bit more,
I welcomed a necromancer on my heart’s shore;
I learn to tame evil spirits from him,
To make my life-pot brim.
With nova nectars of dream.
The necromancer gave me a lamp of happiness,
He’s erased my sourness,
I’ve recognized true zeal & zest,
I’m his pet goldfish.
He’s melted down my anguish,
I’m happy to be his personal wish.
Of late, I’m seeing a priestess,
She is my new enchantress,
I give oblations to my goddess;
With her, I explore new roads,
To search the omnipotent gods!!
I believe in myself,
I know god can be lover,
Sex can be sacred,
Body can be celebrated,
Scars can be a mask of beauty!!
And my lover is my Jesus,
Jesus is my lover!
In my world, a criminal falls for angel,
Angel falls for the sinner.
Violence can coexist with peace
You can carry knife and books,
You can pollute the air.
These are my scrolls, I dare to decode,
Still, I’m supercilious sorceress,
I ogle at evil eye beads,
I occult to make you healed.
I shiver in sheer joy,
When my lovers enjoy my words.
I an angel of darkness,
I am the ultimate empress,
Of your guilty pleasure.
And it’s always better to be bad,
Than wearing a mask of being good!!

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

Piercing My Heart

Piercing my heart:

Her nose-pin twinkles at me,
Her lip-ring smiles at me,
Her dark eyes make me lust,
Leaving everything like rust.
Her cheek-piercings make fake dimples,
Fake eyelashes arise ripples,
Inside my heart.
She is a prostitute from Havana,
I first met her in a sea-side cabana,
On my head, she fastened a cool bandana,
Every night, she gives me insomnia.
Tiny star tattoos trailing her waist,
I want to keep her in my vest,
On me, she pours liquor of zest,
With her I’m never exhausted.
To her tunes, I’m devastated.
The navel piercing makes her sensuous,
She makes my heart joyous,
The tattooed sun under her navel,
and the inked baby angel,
Are enough to create a novel,
About her.
I can’t forget the cross tattoo on her backbone,
And the chuckle of her cheekbone.
I can’t forget how her toe-rings caressed my body,
And her toe-rings were gazed by me.
To me, she means joy,
Her cupid tattoo is carnal envoy.
She showers drops of joy,
With tiny stars convoy.
I kissed the tribal tatt on her lower back,
I’ve loved her for god’s sake,
Her sensuality makes me shake,
But I am not fake.
I desire to bed her every night;
I desire to be her personal knight,
Loving her is my birth right,
I conceal her inside.
She is my secret passion,
She is my strange obsession,
I can tear away all taboos for her,
She has pierced my heart.
I love the way she smokes a cigar,
I love how she applies glitter,
I love the way her lips shimmer,
But I hate the way she ogles at strangers.
I depict her face on my life-canvas,
I inscribe her name on each piece of paper,
She makes my days luminous.
She is invincible and incredible,
In my life, her presence is inevitable.
I wish I were a gem of her necklace,
I’d ward off her foes like savage,
I’ve kissed her anklet,
I’ve loved her restless,
She’s made me mad,
And colored my fad!!

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

Friendship Is To Keep

They say friendship is precious,
They say friendship is stupendous,
They don’t say friendship is jealous!
We meet a queue of friends in life,
Some are precious, some are not,
Some are envious, some are not,
Some are septic, some are sadist;
Some are monotonous, some are not,
Some keep friendship to take help,
Some are truly selfless;
We leave some, some leave us,
At the end of day or beginning of it,
Friendship is dangerous!
Still, friendship is so impossible, 
People don’t talk even if meeting is inevitable,
People learn to ignore friends,
They learn the art of saying nothing,
So that nothing’s left unsaid!
When will Hinduism befriend Islam?
When will Jews accompany Islamists?
When will people stop fights over religions?
When will the world come under one religion?
That religion is humanity.

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

Graffiti Wall

The world is empty paper,
I have ink;
The world is smoother,
When I am the king!
The world is androgynous,
When I’m pop pink.
The world is my canvas,
Destiny makes me furious,
The written walls make me curious!!
I decorate the city walls,
I playfully stroke my brush,
I paint the faces of life,
I love to observe street life.
My graffiti lets you breathe,
My graffiti lets you shed/
The tears of misery.
My graffiti makes you break/
The walls of maze!
Couples pen their names on trains,
The wall arts get fuliginous in rains;
I don’t know what’s their gain,
Scribbling names on seats of the train.
On city walls, I draw cartoons,
I hate to live in a cocoon,
I don’t need to cleanse the walls,
With broom and eraser!
People think walls are their notebook,
Unreadable lines and signs vroom,
They fill it up with word-boom!
Everywhere I see “Damien + Dores”
Or “P loves S”
These names are just emblems,
I am an ancient totem,
I while away my boredom,
On observing their words’ romcoms.
People write on vehicles and walls,
They don’t even spare the cathedrals,
They itch out whisper jokes & hidden rumors,
They draw doodles as “anonymous”
Pencils come in red, orange, pink, blue,
Graffiti are fresh as dew,
To beloved society, it’s cat’s mew!
Cruel tyranny hates these drawings,
Still, they glorify my mornings!

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

My Rainy Whisper

The raindrops fall on my head,
I search for a shade,
Rains create an enchanting maze,
I watch the streets through a haze.
Rains come n’ go,
None takes them home,
Around the sky, they roam,
Rains have significant chrome!!
Rains come, when it’s cloudy,
They make us either happy or gloomy,
Over us rains sprinkle happiness,
Rains bloat out tiredness,
Rains make things misty,
Rains come with a bit mystery.
Rain, rain, May I take some drops?
Will you stay like crystal drops?
Will you dry away?
Will you give me raining joy?
Officer goers wear sad faces
Somber fellows keep quiet,
Nerds seek a place to write,
School children can’t keep uniforms white,
Under umbrella, lovers hide;
To rains, I need to confide.
I love rainy sound against old roof,
I fall asleep in its sound,
I find love in downpour,
I count the drops, cynosure.
Rains make the glasses blurry, 
The drops are wet yet fiery.
Raindrops love to allure lights,
Simple drops get adorned wearing the lights.
I love the rainy illuminations,
Rainy nights are beggar’s description,
It makes my heart luminous,
Leaving the streets oleaginous.
Rain means paper boats,
Rain means umbrella,
Rainy days make me a sudden Cinderella.
Raincoat shields me from drenching,
Umbrella protects me from soaking,
Rains are sky-kissing,
They invite clouds in thanksgiving.

Details | Jayeeta Shamsul Poem

The Herbalist

The Herbalist:-

She deals with herbs,
She collects the rarest herbs,
She creates new drugs,
She burns the weeds,
She smokes weeds,
She bedecks her bun with flowers,
She allures us with bluish ferns,
She looks beautiful in each turn!!
She is the bewitching herbalist,
She lets me inhale wildflowers,
She exhales aromatic odor,
She reddens her lips with herbal color,
She heals me within an hour,
She entices me to have rain-shower,
She believes in her power,
I worship her endeavor,
She is my broodness healer!!
Her swift fingers collect saffrons,
Heer eyes recognize the ideal rhododendrons,
She collects honey seducing the bees,
She picks reddish maple leaves.
Her grinder crushes the limes,
She marinates herbs with jasmines,
She decors her hut with cones of pines,
I love the way her chants whine!!
She applies dark kohl around her eyes,
She wears a crescent nose-pin
She applies oil on her messy fringes,
I notice the tiny tattoo on her chin;
In descent manner her ankle-bells ring.
I know it’s a temporary fling,
Still, appearance of her lover makes my world spin.
She never ceases to surprise me,
She incredibly heals me,
Her presence makes me sane every time,
Her peaceful eyes appease me.
She is the ultimate healer,
She is my worry eraser,
She is the song of sparrow,
She is the sharpest arrow,
She’s blotted all my sorrows.