Sofiul Azam

Rookie - 361 Points (January19,1981 / Bangladesh)

Sofiul Azam Poems

1. To Anna Akhmatova 1/16/2006
2. Oh! It's The Canon 2/4/2006
3. Light Of The World 3/1/2006
4. The Green Flutterings At Arannyak 4/12/2007
5. In The Unmeasured Womb 5/29/2007
6. Ain't It That Tagore's Spectre? 7/23/2007
7. Landfall On The Shore 8/30/2007
8. Ways Of Belonging 12/27/2007
9. Home Away From Home 3/22/2008
10. In The Hurry Of A Twister 6/19/2008
11. Itch Of Maternity 10/15/2008
12. Smile, Just Smile 1/8/2009
13. Blueprint Of Lies 5/18/2009
14. Burns And Blisters 6/21/2009
15. Bottles Of Anxiety 6/21/2009
16. Wounds Are Forever 6/30/2009
17. Rhetoric Of Errors 6/30/2009
18. Great Anarch, Tread 10/18/2005
19. In A Coaltar-Black Jungle 10/12/2006
20. Drizzle On The Grassfield 12/12/2006
21. In Folly's Cocoon 12/23/2006
22. Relief At St. Martin's Island 1/14/2007
23. Based On Wars Reported 1/31/2007
24. Summer In The North 10/7/2005
25. 'What Do You Think Life Is? ' 7/17/2016
26. A Scumbag's New Year 7/17/2016
27. Twists In A Thread 7/17/2016
28. A Birthday Letter 7/17/2016
29. Letter To A Freedom Fighter 7/17/2016
30. Do Something Against Pain 7/17/2016
31. A School Of Life-Lore 7/17/2016
32. Falling In Love 7/17/2016
33. To Readers 7/17/2016
34. Life Of A Capricorn 7/17/2016
35. Talking To Neruda's Ghost 7/17/2016
36. Inscriptions 7/17/2016
37. Refusing A Requiem For Scapegoats 7/17/2016
38. Title It For Yourself 7/17/2016
39. In Temporal Snafus 7/17/2016
40. Drafting An Advice 7/17/2016

Comments about Sofiul Azam

  • Teresa Juhasz (7/17/2005 4:40:00 AM)

    I have now read about you, as well as a handful of your poems and it was certainly my pleasure to have done so. You have left me speechless, not to mention extremely curious to why such a well educated man with a gift to string together words in the most artistic way, leaving the colour to bleed between the lines, creating a page that no longer appears anything less than a painting in a Cathedral and makes me feel as if I was holding your beating heart in the palm of my hands.

    All my life I have wondered both wide and far. Learning to listen to my heart’s instant whispers. Learning to write about what I love and in return to love what I have written. Spreading my wings, soaring high into the sky, where there is another life of sense and thoughts. Amongst the clouds my pen is set free and my heart begins to bleed the ink. The sky gives me the beauty in telling my agony as well as my happiness. My writing, an art of creation, I breath in the words as if they were fresh air. Breathing out, I spread them across the sky, so they can begin to take on a life of their own.

    I hope that you will reply quite soon. Thank you so much …Teresa

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  • Sofiul Azam (7/17/2005 4:30:00 AM)

    Linda M. Stitt, renowned Canadian poet and my well-wisher, has sent her comment about my poetry in an e-mail:

    I have just read some of your poetry and found it profound and compelling, full of rich language and powerful imagery. I wish you every success with your work.

  • Sofiul Azam (7/17/2005 4:28:00 AM)

    Linda Rogers, renowned Canadian poet and my well-wisher, has sent her comment about my poetry in an e-mail:

    I enjoyed reading your poems. You have what I call the Indian eye for intense, passionate and compassionate images.

Best Poem of Sofiul Azam

In Love With A Gorgon

At the time of the sun's spitting saffron out in the sky,
my life turned into a dazzling Gorgon and smiled.

The Gorgon with her snaky hair and tempting eyes
that I didn't know, turned a lot of things into stone.

Her smile drove me unwilling to suffer an eclipse,
frantic to climb the ladder of paramount ecstasy.

Prying into the tangles of love, I shrugged off
the unburdening of things we carry to the end.

Her smile seemed like music of pebbles in a stream.
I didn't know only monsters thrive under her spell.

She stared me out of countenance and...

Read the full of In Love With A Gorgon

Shakespeare’s Quills

“Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
And mock you with me after I am gone.” – W. Shakespeare


No, I don’t think you Shakespeare would have
ever thought of your quills as things necessarily
different from buttons on my keyboard, and of paper
as poles apart from my computer screen; though

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