Muzahidul Reza Poems

What civilization you do draw, man!
Enlightening some too little candles,
Beneath centuries' deep darkness is seen
Which is engulfing your own existence;
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Ever rounding
And ever full
With beings, objects
For each and all the subjects,
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The green village, the colored city, the ever familiar locality
Each path, tree, house, turn, each native I have left behind
But creepers, hedges have entangled with my leg and hand
The green crops fields, green hills, fruit trees, call me back,
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My house is near a sea
The sea is my neighbour
I understand the sea
But the sea does not understand me,
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Ode To A Poet
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Hey poet!
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From my cradle up to he breathes last
Being a shadow against the sun,
A brightening star from the dusk,
The real glorious at dawn
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During the spring in my riverine country
Green is every big and small tree,
Soft is every blade of grasses on soil
Cute is every mole and hill;
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Coming out of home I see some land and much water all around
Full with wonderful animals, plants, myriad of natural objects
Some I can name and some I can't, some near and some are so far
Some open, some covered, some sweet again some are so bitter,
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Many people in the world are eagerly willing to help
The natural calamities, poverties and manmade
Dangers, cruelties affected people
But they do not find whom and where to help,
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Direct clay was turned into required elements
parts, sections, groups, classes in proportion
to set in every function in as pottery style,
osteoblasts turned into bones to form the cage,
...