Khatune Jannat | Saturday, 18 September 2021 | Print
Khatune Jannat
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The body becomes intricate.
The world inside the world
There were also anklets on feet
Canna indica in the eyes
Toxicities gas now
A flaming mind
Where to go now?
The backbone habited by insects.
The humans hiding behind the weeds.
Some are being danced with cannon.
Some are crying
Someone is a poem of peace
Oh peace, oh peace!…
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.
I killed my love
was being too pastimed!
It was like a firefly that fleeing after the pond.
Non-aware that the life span has come to half an end
The autobiography of raped women is rolling over streets of the sky
People are losing memory with testing again and again
The test tube of the fetal test sees the error as human.
I stood by the struggler.
The struggle continues to bring broken rice
I eat with my children
I put it away until the feeling is dull..
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.
Touched me at the dews of autumn
the sound of broken wings of the bee
desire being burned with aroma
In the warmth of damsel young spring
Drowsiness vapours out from the deep end.
Trim and brush up dead old habits.
Now the sweating skin,
engulfed with reminiscent
Painted in memory, autumn cloud
stains over the impression.
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.
Come to me the death-flower
We will walk, the shadow of the forest.
We are embraced in light of the cave.
You and I are twins bokul ( Flower).
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Copyright@Khatne Jannat
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Posted 6:01 pm | Saturday, 18 September 2021
globalpoetandpoetry.com | Faruk Ahmed Roni
