poem

Poetry / Silent screams

Let us raise our voices, let us be heard, / Justice for the dead, let their voices be stirred

Poetry / Reminiscent

I remember the wallowing hole inside of my chest, / hollow and bleeding

POETRY / Not everyone looks at the sky with the same weighted heart

Once, I believed there was a crown on my head. The heart was brimming with life and light Brimming with boundless force to surpass any spread. Among the crowd, I was always one

Poetry / Prompts

The pavements are hotter in winter, the rain never wets the asphalt and I never tell you to do anything else other than “be”. 

Poetry / The colour of revolution is red

And along with our bodies, the rage keeps on, / we chafe and bleed and clot and steer; / we go mad and nude

POETRY / Love, when you’re an adrenaline junky

And in spite of knowing this/ In spite of the absurdity of it all/ You let yourself fall

Review: Literary Magazine / The new speculative literary magazine on the block

Veering off from stories for a bit, Fahim Anzoom Rumman’s “The Secret” was a breath of fresh air. The piece seemed to be a cross between a poem and the kind of fable your grandparents would tell you as a kid to get you to fall asleep.

Poetry / jani dekha hobe

that single spot, shunyo, a hole that is filled to its circumference, I drive and the sun is bigger than I’ve ever seen and orange, look directly into it or, i had to write a poem to go along with the first

Pandemic Nocturne 1: December Dirge

Ask me not of Grief. For I have been burnt by its friendly fire with blood and bits of oozing mortal flesh spun flaky and ashen by its biting cold breath.

September 25, 2023
September 25, 2023

Silent screams

Let us raise our voices, let us be heard, / Justice for the dead, let their voices be stirred

September 23, 2023
September 23, 2023

Reminiscent

I remember the wallowing hole inside of my chest, / hollow and bleeding

September 23, 2023
September 23, 2023

Not everyone looks at the sky with the same weighted heart

Once, I believed there was a crown on my head. The heart was brimming with life and light Brimming with boundless force to surpass any spread. Among the crowd, I was always one

September 21, 2023
September 21, 2023

Prompts

The pavements are hotter in winter, the rain never wets the asphalt and I never tell you to do anything else other than “be”. 

September 16, 2023
September 16, 2023

The colour of revolution is red

And along with our bodies, the rage keeps on, / we chafe and bleed and clot and steer; / we go mad and nude

September 16, 2023
September 16, 2023

Love, when you’re an adrenaline junky

And in spite of knowing this/ In spite of the absurdity of it all/ You let yourself fall

September 2, 2023
September 2, 2023

The new speculative literary magazine on the block

Veering off from stories for a bit, Fahim Anzoom Rumman’s “The Secret” was a breath of fresh air. The piece seemed to be a cross between a poem and the kind of fable your grandparents would tell you as a kid to get you to fall asleep.

September 2, 2023
September 2, 2023

Pandemic Nocturne 1: December Dirge

Ask me not of Grief. For I have been burnt by its friendly fire with blood and bits of oozing mortal flesh spun flaky and ashen by its biting cold breath.

September 2, 2023
September 2, 2023

jani dekha hobe

that single spot, shunyo, a hole that is filled to its circumference, I drive and the sun is bigger than I’ve ever seen and orange, look directly into it or, i had to write a poem to go along with the first

August 31, 2023
August 31, 2023

Parting

While I fear whom you’ll become once you hear me, once you leave me.