I am suffering from insomnia

I am suffering from insomnia

I spend sleepless nights.
The cry of a newborn baby,
abandoned in Ramna Park,
renders Sukantu’s declaration a lie.

Sitting on the sidewalk, under the shade of a banyan tree,
near the Ministry of Foreign Affairs
who is she, begging with pale sad eyes?
A tired hungry child cries,
his hands clutching her shoulders.

As I look at her why does the face
of an Afghan boy, his face torn
by cluster bomb, rise before my eyes?

[...] Read more

poem by Shafiqul Islam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Victory will be surely theirs

Victory will be surely theirs.
Without victory they will never get back
their lost homes.

Victory will be surely theirs.
For, without victory they will never be able
to sleep with their loved ones by their side.
In the middle of the night every tanks
will encircle their refugee camps,
snatch their adolescent boys and girls
from their mothers’ shelter,
bind their eyes and take them away.

Unless victory is theirs
the enemy’s insolent legs will go on kicking
their most revered old women.
Their ill fated children won’t be able to stop
the enemy’s bullets even by hiding themselves
behind their fathers’ broad chests.

[...] Read more

poem by Shafiqul Islam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Indestructible Tree.

Rugged desert_
an unbriddled melancholy wind blows
Scattering sparks of fire,
There is no tree in Shatil Arab,
only the simoom’s voice moans all around.
In the palace of the Sheikh, though,
a few khayyamesque gardens exist
on whose blue carpets you’ll find
the finest wine of the world
and an enamoured saki with her lovely eyes.

Oblivious of his tent and the far away horizon’s call
the intrepid Bedouin has taken refuge
in the soft white abode of sex
in the Sheikh’s khayyamesque gardens.
Outside all trees have been singed by fire,
not even a cactus grows
in the barren land.

[...] Read more

poem by Shafiqul Islam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!