Poetry

Someplace Else

A morning perennially haunted by the memories of lovemaking

coils into the warm bed 

of an old couple

A river wildly drunk with the flute of Bari Siddiqui

wakes up to the nightmare

of mundane life

A string of fake pearls from the distant neck of a beggar girl

beacons 

smiling 

(11 February 2019)

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You and I were two splinters of the same grenade

Once triggered, never meant to glue together

Or go back to the same place or time

After carnage

Not mend

(13 February 2019)

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It's busy here

We can't dance on the roof,

Nor loiter

The goli has become too narrow,

Crowded

Sign of fatigue has settled down

Like dust

It's dusty here

We can't chat

Nor sing

A guitar in hand

And a voice loud and full as life itself

Rain soaked

Parched

(13 February 2019)

Hasan Al Zayed teaches at the University of Liberal Arts, Bangladesh and is a PhD Candidate at State University of New York, Albany.