Inscribe Poems | Examples

We Were Never 'I'

Within this sanctum
of breath and bone—
ten trillion anchorites
mimic their devotions.

Bacteria threading
blood’s vermilion rivers
braiding holy water
into the cathedral
of now.

Their alchemy transmutes
starlight
into the wine of existence—
decanted
from Orion’s mythical vine.

Viruses—
those threshold wraiths
between being
and unbeing—
inscribe new verses
in the living gospel
of our chromosomes.

Fungi a cappella
in mycelial tongues
through marrow’s moaning chambers
decomposing resurrection
from each small death
we die.

We are not hosts—
but cantatas
still composing themselves
in light.

Each cell—
a verse rehearsing resurrection.

Hark:
your pulse conducts
this unseen choir
where mortal breath
becomes immortal song.

And in this sacrosanct
communion of kingdoms,
we learn
we were never “I”—

but a constellation of prayers:
timeless,
boundless—

Bacteria
Viruses
Fungi
Me—
becoming
one.

Cemetery

“The cold stones of cemetery inscribe
in emptiness the petrified story long forgotten” 
– By Poet     


The grey sky was gloomy
as that of my morose mind,
as I pushed open the rusted gate,
entered the sprawling cemetery.

I stood still in front of the grey stones
in rows, some large, some small,
in columns, some erect, some reclined,
each silently telling me a story forgotten.

I prayed for eternal peace for the souls gone,
for the lives petrified in the emptiness.
I stood in a vacant plot waiting,
wished someone would pray for me someday.

One River, One Life

One river, one life
Many civilization lies
Hope start with giving
In return life live here
Many communication lies
Peace start by talking
All life flourishing in
Business held in river bank
Barter, selling and profit
Then all other forms came in
Once simple life now complex
Need government to control
All walks of life, law exist
It expand from family to kingdom
Kingdom subdued other kingdom
Power comes from the tip of a sword
Of wisdom to wise men to own power
Years by years kingdom arise
From Kings to generational kings
History written in papyrus and scrolls
To inscribe bed rock and rock walls
The history of life evolve with struggles
The mind evolve so as people lives evolve
Now the power in the river becomes dry
All left is desolation, barren and forgotten
The once order, happy, beautiful now empty
All we hear is the wind that blows howling
The dusty place and rugged terrain remain
And the ancient pave path that led to nowhere.

Raise a Glass to Despair

I am drawn to you as an alcoholic to a glass of whiskey, 
I lift you to my lips taking a simple sip, 
I pour you from the bottle I’ve enclosed you within, 
Without fail,
Another day,
Another drink, 
Why can’t I stop pouring,
Pouring and drinking from your glass?,
I put you in the bottle, 
I expected you to stay there, 
My selfish ways inscribe within, 
Tip the bottle, 
Unscrew the flask, 
Giving hopelessly into your misery, 
You comfort me while you take my life,
You steal me from my body, 
You disconnect me from my conscious mind, 
Who might I call upon to save me from the nothingness?,
No, I am not an alcoholic, 
But as I tip the glass further, 
Your solace becoming my pain,
Raise a glass to despair!,
Raise a glass to easeful torture!, 
No, I am not an alcoholic, 
But I am addicted to the ideals you present, 
Please,
I beg, 
Save me from myself, 
Save me from inside,
Please, 
I beg, 
I do not want to be okay if this is what it means, 
I do not want to be okay if okay belongs in your arms, 
I do not want to be okay, 
I want to survive,
Let me survive.

THE ZIGGURAT

The Ziggurat


So.
I am completed now,
and what have you learned 
that you did not already know?

Closer to the gods, I suppose,
who seem somewhat indifferent
if you ask me.
You are the ones making all the noise.

I have no complaint.
You treat me well.
You lavished millions of man-hours 
to forge and lay my bricks.
You commissioned the finest work of artisans 
to inscribe my walls.

I am admired,
worshiped perhaps, by many
(not all, I notice - I will keep their secret).

I do stand tall and imposing,
and the view is quite nice.

The birds, in particular, seem to be appreciative,
catching soft thermals from my sloped sides.
They glide without effort at the pinnacle;
some even daring to land.

And that’s about it for me.
What did YOU have in mind?

Festive Words

Make haste arise,
assert the words.
Salute each term
that now gabfest.

In mid of night
they waltz, serenade;
Jovially jolting
a rem-sleep state.

Appease them please,
awake, awake.
You have mere seconds
so soon they fade.

Witty performers, 
these festive words;
Parade to play part
of a poet's verse.

Rare frolic idioms
seldom last;
Assign them purpose,
applaud their crafts.

Ink well the quill,
poetize prose.
Recite with vigor 
what words compose.

Inscribe each stanza 
on scroll egg-shell white.
A task I've done 
numerous times.

Ideal locutions
dispel thy rants.
In poetic sequence,
I'll debut thy stance.

Love

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life.
The word is love.”Sophocles, Greek Poet 
Love’s a feeling difficult to describe 
It’s the loving potion angels prescribe 
From the start love’s a perpetual vibe
Etching on one’s heart a charming inscribe.

Love’s the melody sung within one’s soul
A lifetimes supernal leisurely stroll
It’s having someone who’s there to console
When in need of being made to feel whole
Love grows lovelier as the years evolve 
Affirmation to love’s glory extol
As love is life’s most ineffable role
Aim for love to be life’s ultimate goal.

True love can never be put asunder
Nothing on earth could disturb love's thunder.

See Ya In Heaven

Having trouble keeping an active brain 
Is it poetry that's kept me alive
Poetry's a major activity that's filled my void
Ten long years since I retired

Owe my well being to this wonderful site
Anxiously checking my inbox
To see who's sent me these glowing responses
Check it before putting on my socks 

Addicted, I'd have to say that's true
But life would be quite boring without it
You people boost my ego every day
Might survive but I really kinda doubt it

So on my tombstone they'll probably inscribe
He died in an extremely poetic way
His last words rhymed as they closed the casket
“That's all I have to say today”

Lonely

feeling the ache, the lonely
singing poetry through the soul
who knows what it is to doubt,
the music, the joy, the tears.

feeling the dark, the longing
burning silence through the night,
who believes in the nocturnal,
there is wonder so big it provides,
all the beauty held by the life,
who trembles with the stirrings,
feelings so alive…

feeling the silence, flowing
beneath the rivers of quiet, soundless
pouring out its peace, its solitude
dreams inspired by the whispers, the sighs,
endless beauty, weakened by pain,
limitless hues of beautiful, feeding on the 
poetry, the promises…

feeling the heavy ache of a lonely
that will never forsake, 
lonely you take to the grave,
feeling that doesn’t quite partake,
feeling, alone and awake,
promising the night to penetrate
with the soul soothing music,
poetry in flames, poetry that amazes,
it’s like a stardust saying…

feeling so awake, feeling that will always stay,
feeling the ache, the lonely,
satisfying the way that only lonely can inscribe,
writing lonely on the soul.

It started with a blank canvas

It was not truly blank
For it bore the unseen burden of promise
For it held the texture
Of a calloused hand
The tone of tinted toil
The excellence
Of a gifted craftsman
Inscribe on a blank canvas.

It would tempt
The artist
Gift him
Faint flaws
Tease her
With threaded dalliance

Soft shadows
Cast the tint
Of imperfection’s challenge 

The artist
Studied every angle
Fondled with his eyes
Every subtle twist
Of light
Of texture
Of tenor
Seized the promise
Of the blank canvas
Slowly mixed the paints
Caressed the canvas
Fulfilling its promise
With swirling brushes.

The Irony

In this bared land of the fertile alphabets
You didn't spread out the mat of poetry

Thousands crore of years I rowed the oar of your spring
No smiling flower bloomed there in the desired tree

Lost, I lost the parlours of the Sirius due to chasing your winks
No ink of the rose day I sipped to inscribe a couplet of the ivy

Now I'm running away from the fist of the empirical uterus
Where you were my poem but the destitution is irony!

©Mahtab Bangalee
February 13, 2024
Chattogram

Till We Meet Again In Heaven

In the ten years since I officially retired
Have had trouble keeping my old brain active
A major activity that's filled the void
It's poetry, which has kept my brain captive

Owe my well being to this wonderful site
Anxiously checking my inbox
To see who's sent me these glowing responses
Check it before putting on my socks 

Addicted, I'd have to say that's true
But life would be quite boring without it
You all boost my ego every day
Might survive but I really kinda doubt it

So on my tombstone they'll probably inscribe
He died in an extremely poetic way
His last words rhymed as they closed the casket
“That's all I have to say today”

If it was not for words

If it was not for words
there'd be no poetry.
Can a veiled muse survive,
unable to release
poems that make us thrive?

If it was not for words.
Can we cope being mute
when hearts have to suppress
reasons behind sorrows,
teardrops cannot express.

If it was not for words.
There would be no lyrics,
only background soundtracks.
No songs to soothe our souls
or help tired minds relax.

If it was not for words.
How will eyes view nature
when art fails to describe
moon, blooms, angst or romance?
Nothings left to inscribe.

Love Is Magical

Love is magical;
sharing a dream,
lovers bond;
forging two hearts
into one.
Feeling loved
by the one you love,
is euphoric;
no poet
can inscribe
such feelings in ink.
Words fail
do love justice;
it needs to be felt
in your heart and soul.
Challenging you;
to be the person
you've always thought
you could be;
there is only
one emotion
that is so
powerful,
it overwhelms you;
and that is love.

See Ya In Heaven

In the ten years since I officially retired
Had trouble keeping my old brain active
A major activity that's filled the void
It's poetry, which has kept my brain captive

Owe my well being to this wonderful site
Anxiously checking my inbox
To see who's sent me these glowing responses
Check it before putting on my socks 

Addicted, I'd have to say that's true
But life would be quite boring without it
You people boost my ego every day
Might survive but I really kinda doubt it

So on my tombstone they'll probably inscribe
He died in an extremely poetic way
His last words rhymed as they closed the casket
“That's all I have to offer today”

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