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Deepta Protik Osman

Epitaph on King Priam of Troy

Priam, the Trojan king
Lies in a great peace.
Lies he there
The city of Troy,
Where no more is joy.
Caused by Paris’s ploy,
Thought the city was a toy.
So brought the coil
And Troy, received it, as a spoil,
As the Greeks took the coil, away
And Troy, in ruins, alas.

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Shorfession

So pain, to feel at school,
Lonely, there feel I.
No justice, for me,
And’s illegal.
They hurt me-the students, they.
And in sorrow // my heart weep
And wish me to sleep
At home-very deep.
Teachers hate me,
Torture me a lot.
Always injustice,
When to justice.
Like wars, it will end,
Hopeful I.
Punished shall by God they:
Common sense, really.

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People around me

People around me, never changed, but I changed,
The people to see, same, I, not.
All people I known, before and now, bad,
I have changed, for them, am sad.
They shot me words, when am sight
Never did the same, today not fight.
People, that I see, from change, is free
But one thing, still they’re bad, it’s known by me.
Changes are fast, changes are slow
Some people, before and now felt,
never ever changed.

19th July,2009, Sunday

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Curia

Say poetry
in a must,
in a quick,
Time won’t tell,
You must tell.
No time to rest
Or to waste,
Not to haste
Poetry must.
Curia this is, you say
Why now.
The matter of curia
Or say poetry must.
What’s poetry?
Like a must do say.
What’s poetry?
To get furia.
What’s poetry?
Say it, not waste.
A cast to not know

[...] Read more

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A Lecture

While reciting, ‘Whose your daddy’
In the ears that student made ‘Choose your daddy’.
To my ears, he meant destiny is the father
While the main land is the mother.
Bad minds think alike
Makes a sweet scent, a toxic fume
Who ever smell it be made a destiny, a doom.
Life is never a choosy house
One choose, a devil’s tongue
No human ever chose, just He chose
Chose for good, even for the bad men.
One word can make a million meanings
Things are clear, but not that clearer.
Destiny is the book by God
No can dared to write such a book.
The line is for entertainment
So not all things teach things.

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In The Memory of Fathers' Day

Every have their own, on one special day
My father, in his day, has his own special way.
For this, we’re profound to make fathers’ day.
Nothing is better than love, with gay
Love for dad, must never be away.
For which to you, happy fathers’ day.
Father and son
This way, have spun.
Forever, love to you, rise,
Even when away.
And father and son, have its way,
Our love, forever, unastray.
Everybody have their own special days
And dad, is mine, day of light,
Forever, out of fathers’ day.
Even when, we shall away
Fathe and son-love, never astray.
And all have their own ways
And coming is only, for special days.
We’ll waiting, father and son.

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The Car Problem

I


My mother, to shop went,
With me she went.
For my brother we bought
Many toy cars.
Then we left,
To our Home Sweet Home.
There gave cars to him,
Then played with cars he.

II


Now one night:
That was at the past.
Went we like usual
To granny’s Sweet Home.
Me bro. showed there

[...] Read more

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