Wake me up every morning as dawn becomes a new day.
What motivated our youth to defy death in order to free Bangladesh from the yoke of a brutal regime?
Glamorous lightweight raindrops from the October sky keep
A star fell on the ground in the windy night
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Don’t you see— I can only write dark.
The first pulse, in the midst of a whipping maelstrom,
Eternity collapses at the wheel of change. / Past is lost
August, marked with dying things. Summer’s end, / My freedom spent
You stand where you always have
The blue model of clay vices that sits in a house of glass
She impales the bodies of chickens she prepares for a feast— My mother holds taut the fat clinging to the meat, By the sleight of her hand, separates it, And hurls it into the bin by the kitchen sink.
A dream of me in a sea of green.
The Mando, having more pressing matters To protect the kid, no bounty, no task ordained To him. He loves its cooing, its soft forehead, Appealing spell cast by the marveled eyes.
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 29 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Curtains
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 28 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Sugar
She is broken but she is fine.
For me, poetry has forever been an elusive passion.
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 27 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Total