Hassanal Abdullah is a Bangladeshi-American poet, novelist, critic, translator and the editor of Shabdaguchha, an International Bilingual Poetry journal. He has introduced a new sonnet form, Swatantra Sonnet, with seven-line stanza-pattern and abcdabc efgdefg rhyming scheme. He also wrote a 314-page epic on the Universe and how life is connected to it using almost all the major scientific theories and evolutionary understanding. An author of 24 books (in Bengali text) in different genres, Mr. Abdullah is a New York City High School Math teacher. more »
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Hassanal Abdullah Poems
Swatantra Sonnet 77
I've heard the noble sound of your footsteps, my love. Come, come closer, and open your heart. Spread the fragrance of your lovely breasts. Let the door be closed. Embrace me with your gentle hands
People smell like a horse, But a horse does not smell like them. People smell like a dog,
The Story of Ants
The ants got scared They do not go home They do not eat daal, nor dried rice Are not moved by ticklings of the wind
The Light of the Earth
At last, I've captured the light of the earth in my courtyard. That's a new story, a new jubilation of the sea; The wave goes away; soon it comes back to me And the century's hungry compass rotates on its own orbit.
When God is Dead
When God is dead I will swim in the river. I will play football And get a lot of fans
Swatantra Sonnet 21
Enter with a bare chest. Dear lady, the complex cage of dress fails to give me deepest pleasure. I want naked beauty, like the snakes and the trees. Twenty-eight’s blooming youth longs for the wild tastes
In my childhood I saw many gods With their red wide eyes Full of threats. My days passed by
With a Little Cash
If I have a little cash, I will open an art shop My modernist call Will raise echo and journey to Corners of places not reached before.
Comments about Hassanal Abdullah
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Swatantra Sonnet 77
I've heard the noble sound of your footsteps, my love.
Come, come closer, and open your heart. Spread
the fragrance of your lovely breasts. Let the door
be closed. Embrace me with your gentle hands
and set your sweet lips on mine like a wild dove.
Keep crawling to find my heart’s main thread
that’s as vivid as the spring, trembling at ocean floor.
Take off the boutique sari and raise both
hands to untie your hair; blow on me like petals
of flower. Without you I am lonely, confused and dark.
Implant the fresh, eternal light in my land.
Don’t bother making ...