Transitory Poems

Rough Life

We live — but not on level ground,
We are sunlight clinging to the edge of a crumbling wall.
I remembered Grandmother’s voice,
She warned me once: “Boy, beware the fall.”

We leap —
and soon enough
this house of days
will crash upon us all.

We were mountains once —
and still we held,
Like millstones
bearing every crushing call.

In a blink, the starling flew

The Timeless Moment

Gone in a moment, yet timeless ye be:
Flame in my candle, and soul that's in me.

Humility

Humbleness
(Free Verse)

Humble is a man who prefers 
To take fresh air in his garden
Than waste his time in a pub,
To be dressed in simple clothing
Than in expensive high class dresses
That bursts a whole in his purse.
 
Humble is a man who wants to live
In a small modest home
In the shade of green trees
On the fringe

A Vain Show, and Transitory

All of its nonsense does end here.
World's. Its furthest blown point.
Murky but deathly stilled water's
Of tranquil acceptance.
Even so, which glory, gold leafed
By what hangs and spooks round
Spreads, for ghosts of disillusionment
Cursed sounds. In abundance!

Impermanence

No  seed that’s on the earth ground
It’s tree now, offering the shadow
And life of sound

No green leaves there are
It’s yellow to withered 
And blow away far

My forefathers, many of them
Now hanging on the photo frame
One day I’ll be the same

Dawn sun comes and goes daily
Dusk to a dark night in the same way
time never

Union

"What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Trapped in the open, we find ourselves within"



Who can hear the forest still
Its light and mist fall calmly hushed
Bereft of leaves gripped in winter's will
Its naked soul lies burnt from autumns rust

Sundering haze as breath in cold
Melts in air through sunlit stands
Of forest simple, soft though bold
While

Fp Transitory Power

disassembled
    and torn
scattered
    in the fetid
air
    beyond 
        repair
in
higher
     dreams
unheard
unspoken
a
   thousand
        whispers
in
the
night 
    of
       this
  

Transitory

Shining ray- the dawn
Dew plays game of glittering
Brevity counts down!

-November 22, 2018 Chattogram

Transitory Life

transitory life
how can they understand
oh God 
I wish I can let them know
what life is all about 
is obvious they are far 
gone in calamities
no matter how I cry 
does it matter 
in a brutal world 
full of evils 
wickedness the authority
they vibrate 
in world they don't own 
I wish they understand 
I wish they

Transitory

The inurbane world faces its fate
with malignant joy, unaware
of it being a scapegoat in the
capricious transitory thing called life.

Yet we perspicuously flatter ourselves
and gravitate to the greatness of life
till the body dissipates and soul alienates 
on the all- encompassing altar of death.

9/9/2016

A Transitory Existence, An Eternal Quintessence

My tenant body constitutes a lease,
A rented fabric owed to landlord Time, 
From smoothened silk to wrinkled leather’s crease,
This shuttled thread is bound in deed to grime.
My mind he stakes a vested interest in,
Its vibrancy is forced perforce to fade,
The stain of Lethe’s dull oblivion
Shall wash and sink this mind in murky shades.

Immortal dyes Arachne

Transitory Buoyancy

Let us float in these moments...
Like clouds in the sky ;
Without worries or predicaments...
Without tears in the eye...!

Let us not think of tomorrow...
Nor brood on the bygone yesterday...
Transcending the shadows of sorrow...
Let us welcome the glee that comes our way....!

Let us pluck stars from the firmament....
And festoon the garden of our dreams...
Let us find the

The Transitory

The Transitory 

A feline has  
Moved into the shed 
Gave birth
Two six kittens 
I’m looking for a hammer
To hit a nail 
Into the wall and hang
Up a painting of Jesus with 
His eyes closed
Looking remarkable like 
Gaddafi when he was murdered
 The painting is a fake 
Kaddafi was not
I shall miss his splendid 
Sky-blue

Transitory Madness

just
under
the
skin
the you that echoes the actual
physical
scarring
that
shows
just at the very outset of your
supposedly
sane &
publicly
presentable
exterior, lies with you a problem
that
you
can't
quite
fix---and yes, you try to work it
out
with
others,
both
those others selves within &
those
individuals
on
the
slashed & scattered outskirts (like
cracked
little
pieces
of
linoleum) but nothing seems to
work
when
everyone
has
the blatant sinister audacity to ask
if
something's
wrong
but
to offer nothing in the way of ideas
as
to
how
one
might go about medicating any real
issues
of
which
you
yourself may in

Clouds Are Transitory

Clouds Are Transitory
by Rick Rucker

At times, to keep the blues away,
I remember that the sky's not gray,
It is blue, and bright, and clean,
A truly idyllic scene,

It is, like we say, “Nothing but blue skies from now on.”
Once the intervening clouds are gone,
The sky is blue, and will always be,
For him and her, and you and

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