Mohammad Yamin Poet Rhyme

The Unmarked Grave

The myriads of unmarked graves in the cemetery
Presenting miserable image of human heartlessness
Uncared and unsung by near, dear all and sundry
Forsaken and abandoned, victim of unkindness

Which one of them holds my mother’s remains?
My angel, my lover, a philosopher, a friend
A melancholy child riding rough terrains
I for whom her eyes incessantly rained 

I turned into a pauper with treasure of love  gone
A symbol of despair with goals unclear 
Relentless caravan of time said move on
And move I did trembling with fear

The nature held me by hand and catapulted in the air
The voyage of loneliness was hard to endure
Groping and fighting I reached where eagles dare
With anguish and pain and lost valor

 The shower of Blessings and silvery rains of grace
Hoisted the flag of my fame and glory
Winning goals after goals in the formidable race
Life writing an enchanting story

Yet my eyes with tears blurred and hazed
My spirit weeps, my soul cries
I pray on all unmarked graves with my hands raised
Surely in one of them my mother lies



(My mother Begum Najmunnesa was laid to rest in an un-marked grave in Azimpura, Dhaka, Bangladesh. I am that unworthy son who is unable to identify her grave and visit the country to offer prayers)

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Twanna Irisha June 23, 2012 at 9:48 PM This poem touched my heart...simply beautiful. <3 Mohammad Yamin June 24, 2012 at 4:51 PM Thanks Irisha. You are very kind

Dalila Agtani April 10, 2012 at 1:04 AM Mohammad what a beautiful tribute to your mother. No you are not an ungrateful son, otherwise you could not have written this piece. I enjoyed reading it Mohammad. Love Dalila Mohammad Yamin June 21, 2016 at 2:20 PM Thanks for admiring my poem Dalila and for your uplifting remarks. God bless you Mohammad Yamin April 10, 2012 at 11:19 AM Thanks, Dalila for your extremely kind comments. The appreciative friends like you are the only asset I a pauper of love has. I am so grateful.

Elizabeth Wesley March 16, 2012 at 8:56 AM What is important is that her memory lives in your heart; her spirit is not in the grave and that is what is important. Such a sad poem Mohammad, you must misws your mom very much. Mohammad Yamin March 19, 2012 at 12:35 PM Thanks for your most sympathetic comments on my dedication to my mother. You are right her spirit is not in the grave. I wonder if the spirit is watching the amount of tears I have shed for her and knows that her son has made his place in the society as she desired on his own without any support.

Ann Roske March 15, 2012 at 12:35 PM what a vivid description of what happens in other parts of the world - i am honored to have read this piece.. Mohammad Yamin March 16, 2012 at 2:58 PM Thanks for your kind comments. Generally this doesn't happen in the Eastern hemisphere. But in cases where it happens it is due to poverty. Some people can't afford the cost of building even a simple grave with tomb stone. My case was different. It is a story of apathy of people.

M. Hussain Effendi March 15, 2012 at 12:43 AM Thank you for your visit, dear uncle. Your poems have always inspired me to write. Get well soon!! Mohammad Yamin March 16, 2012 at 2:37 PM Thanks, Husain! You are very kind.

Sara Kendrick March 14, 2012 at 6:42 PM Here in America many have been laid to rest and the families never are able to afford any kind of marker..It is sad that families have been so poor..Just because you can't visit now doesn't mean that you will never be able to visit..I am sure that she feels your spirit that seems to care and love her..Thanks for the kind review of my work..Your presence at my work was uplifting..Sara Mohammad Yamin March 16, 2012 at 2:34 PM Dear Sara, It is a news to me to learn there are people in America that can't afford a Tomb Stone. What a pity! Thanks for your kind words. I needed them

Linda-Marie Sweetheart March 14, 2012 at 3:36 PM deply intense and stirring write Mohammad.. touches the inner core luv.. Mohammad Yamin March 15, 2012 at 2:00 PM Thanks Linda for your kind comments. My mother's death when I was merely 12 caused a deep wound in my heart which never healed. I am still carrying it in my old age. -Mohammad

Anne-Lise Andresen March 13, 2012 at 3:36 PM You impress me Mohammad....it is sooo good written.Touching and with love. - oxox hugs Anne-Lise Mohammad Yamin March 15, 2012 at 1:53 PM Thanks Anne; a praise coming from you is really uplifting. You are so kind. -Mohammad

Lisa Cooper March 11, 2012 at 2:16 PM Mohammad, Within the crossroads of your heart she rests.Her mark infinately captured. No man may take or no journey too long to erase her presents there. She will forever grace your heart. Your poem has touched me. thank you for sharing. Mohammad Yamin March 14, 2012 at 1:47 AM Thanks Lisa for your comforting comments. You have a heart of gold that moves and captures feelings. You are a role model. God Bless you! Hugs!

M.I.A . March 8, 2012 at 7:40 PM Because we have sins and make mistakes, thus we pray.... Always an honor to see/read something that came from a true being, one does not need words to know one's soul anymore. Mohammad Yamin March 10, 2012 at 9:48 AM Thanks for your very kind comments. I admire your understanding.