As The Note-Taking Girl scribbles
And absentmindedly quibbles
Her fingers are animated wriggles
Churning out eccentric squiggles:
Letters of Ever Clumsy Angles,
One like a creeper that tangles,
As many like threads in singles,
Wherefore her teacher openly wrangles
And after explosion stiffly dangles
Before her the option of A Street Hawker
Bearing a case with or without a locker
And around patrolling with jingles
Or she be whipped and a nearby ear tingles!
But that wasn’t The Rescue from a writing
That keeps a teacher’s eyes biting!
Categories:
hawker, care, child, education, words,
Form: Rhyme
O Yes
Here only flowers in my crate
Red, white, green, blue, pink, purple …….
Colorful many flowers
No; there is no thorn
No; there is no hate
There no pain can born
O really sorry
I do not sell Scriptures sticker
Here you are Ma'm for the flowers
I’m just a hawker
From the bazaar of heart
I’m just hawker of love
May 12, 2020 Chattogram
Categories:
hawker, introspection, love,
Form: Free verse
One lonely, chilly night, I awoke to faintly hear
a rap, rap, rap coming from my front door knocker.
Too curious to ignore, I opened it a crack, and there
stood a man, tall and wan, a strange night hawker.
He wavered as he stood, askew, as quietly he talked
of cemetery plots for sale, not far away, brand new.
With deadpan face and wandering eye, gazed off
with parched cracked lips, he spoke as spittle spewed.
A violent, bloody cough exposed his ills, he swayed
came forward to steady himself, then reached to touch
my arm he grabbed and clutched, I struggled away
then gasped, his foul breath reeked, it was all too much.
Suddenly his frail frame crumpled before my very eyes
he writhed and from his mouth sprang leeches from inside
that attached to me and sucked upon my blood until I died.
Written on 9/23/2016
Categories:
hawker, night, scary,
Form: Rhyme
She knows him to be a destroyer
Oblivious of having made her, a self-destroyer.
With great passion she hates him
But gave herself to him.
Here he comes again
To make her do what she hates.
Fun you may say she derives now and again
But disgust is what she accommodates.
The only way out, though she seeks
For freedom she loves to obtain.
There stands on her way a veil
That make her shatter the safety she seeks.
Though she often hears a voice calling
Lift thy hands and thou art free.
She seldom tries
But her past keeps hunting.
Categories:
hawker, confusion, depression, sad,
Form: Narrative
She hawks with dusk,
Aft gloom slightly waters the earth.
Proclaiming her filthy bodies
With seductive strides
Amidst the lawn of preys.
Hoping that her veiled tainted elegance
Would lure another victim
To the depths of her lavender quilts.
Categories:
hawker, daughter, mystery,
Form: I do not know?