Short Narrates Poems

No name nebulous
Nobody narrates nature
Next news nibbles nerve

© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
04/03/2023


Genre-Alliterku...

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Dear Jan Allison.

Jasmine aroma in her nice and pithy poems
Able poetess has the skills and qualifications to write well poems
Narrates wonderful words, sweet good comments, and beautiful stories...

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Nearly everyday, the 
     nascency of new lives 
         never fails to inspire;
Nature's numinous blush 
     narrates an old story -
Nightingale or nacre, 
     noble designs of God.


05/01/2017
...

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Darling Afghan grandmother, your weary hands narrates a somber tale
Your bowed head discloses your day by day yearning ail
You have masked your happiness deep under your time-honored veil
Oblivious-- that your offspring’s will follow your footprints-- and abide by this wretched 
trail.
Anosha Zereh...

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The puppet is telling a story in silence
But not its own story
It's only a story of others 
Or of the man behind the scene who narrates
Or of the writer who collects
Or of the anonymous who declares
The puppet is only an obedient actor
A silent storyteller of freedom and dignity
Man sometimes lives like a puppet too
Especially in a country where hegemony exists...

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Good poets are born, not fashioned.
The masters of sterility
write verses in prose and christen
them in the name of Poetry.

Meters are measured arrangements,
rhyme is correspondence of sound;
But devoid of inspiration
results, if ever, rarely found.

A poem must be a poets breath:
On inhalation he creates,
the exhalation, he narrates.
Breathing life into words once dead....

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The tweeting birds sound so dulcet,
The clear blue sky oh so high!
The many gardens and their fences,
The dew drops dripping from leaves
The forests giving out clues,
The earnestness of the wind,
It narrates the life in brief;
You will find yourself lost in the arms of nature,
Where you will find only peace and affection.
The picturesque beauty of nature will daze you,
And all your worries will cease
That's the fascination, illusion of Mother Nature....

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On golden sands 
between the layers of
silvery stream waves
wet quill write untold tales

Incessant gush narrates
epic in shallow voice
no presence witness
prolonged tireless task

On shrivelled shores
pebbles re read stories
to share the musing
with migrating birds.

The serene script
bloating and floating
bubbling with wishes 
meandering on waves.

In its obvious merge
identity gets sacrificed 
while embracing 
dark ocean abyss.

© Maaya Dev...

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Television vomits privacies
nauseous they are to me
but fans, parents, money-makers
swallow them with no shame

Television show men delete men
boiled hearts they carry all the way
tricksters show mongoose-ness
society the chicken they snatch

Television narrates impossible tales
that humans are gods in action
Believe and try what you see
your heart and body bid you farewell

Television lies and hides that it educates
yet youth  are fields for hay.  I say nay...

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A crooked slanting moon
shifts the eye
comes under the chaste tree
and washes the tainted
victory.

Wolves start howling
at the tomb of unknown martyr,
man-eaters recoil
on the sugar island
and talk about destinies,

A mourning crowd walks
repudiating the death;
one day nuances of an ode
will thaw the delta
in disbelief.

The Delphic attitude
of a translucent murder
narrates the wisdom of sadness
which cannot propel the
blood stained light.


SATISH VERMA...

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