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The curtain moved.
Not with wind—
but with something
warm,
like breath held
then let go.

Her anklet scraped
the floor tile
only once.

Your tea
steeped too long
on the windowsill.

The calendar page
was blank.

Her scarf stayed
where she dropped it—
on the chair’s back,
faint with
lemon shampoo.

And you—
you didn’t touch it.
Not then.

But later,
you folded it.
Twice.

As if
that meant
you hadn’t looked.

- THE END -

© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Sometimes, absence is loudest in the things left behind. This is a quiet grief, told through scarves, silence, and tea that went cold.
 Jun 18 Traveler
Nylee
Generous and kind acts,
What is charity to you?
Give away my thing,
Now is it right to call it mine?

Service to other, who are we
servicing really?
What is the true nature
helping is being kind simply.

Toppled by feeling good,
Is it for others or self?
Elated within
Reminiscing with pride.

Do you wish to give away all of yours
To your kin or strangers?
trinkets of mine, now owned by so many
The resource from earth, passes on.

With our last breath, who are we
donating skin and eyes, the body will pass on
Who am I, a soul?
This life ends, but possession remains
What becomes of me, where do I go?
 Jun 18 Traveler
Nylee
Decoys
 Jun 18 Traveler
Nylee
I chase the decoys, fleeting and bright,
A world strewn with toys that dazzle the sight.
Deceptions and games weave through the day,
Till nightfall arrives, and truths slip away.


Something falters, a crack in the core,
Nature’s own riddle, unyielding, unsure.
Kindness must bloom where hardness takes root,
Yet chaos persists, sowing endless dispute.

How does it spin, this unending maze?
Life’s like a box where wild weeds blaze.
Courage, a spark, flares fierce in the space,
Confidence cuts with a savage display.

Nothing grows quick, though time doesn't stand still,
A constant pulse with a shifting will.
Scenes rise and fade, their edges blur,
Moments dissolve, yet their echoes stir.

What would the world be, in scarcity or wealth?
Would birds still carve skies in their boundless health?
Their wings sweep the heavens, a distant flight,
Carving their paths through the endless night.

Destiny runs deeper than surfaces show,
Its layers unfold where dimensions grow.
Beyond what we see, beyond what we trace,
A truth hums alive in the vastness of space.

Divisive tides clash, bold riders hone,
Creeping through shadows that cover the globe.
Somedays bring light, others weigh like stone—
What words can answer when meaning’s unknown?
On our way into
Santa Anita one day,
an old man had tipped
over in his wheelchair.
There was a pool of blood
beneath his smooth head.
I was with my Dad.
He was around the same
age as the poor injured man.
I was 12.

Seeing that man, and watching
the blank stares of the apathetic
crowd gathering around the
man, and the blood, and the
fallen wheelchair, I knew that
nobody would win, and the
horses that ran were the luckiest
of us all.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tpMDoNXg_U
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read from my recently published books.  They are on Amazon.com
Sleep Always Calls, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse.
 Jun 18 Traveler
irinia
time
 Jun 18 Traveler
irinia
worlds are collapsing, rising; dictators exhale,
entangle the veins of the world
some ideas preserve salty streets like janitors of the dark
summer keeps the score of perfumed nights
I indulge in the womb of heat
wounds are retreating in sequestered spaces -
the seeds of the future.
there is a chill in the air, dread strikes near and far
light flows like the dance stuck in my bones
everywhere the pulse of time, dreaming
You got a good name, good height, everything alright
What you turned inside, is emotional oversight
Incredibly twisted, any word is tiring
You overthink everything like you are competing.

Competition is with whom, the older you?
The truth is so loud, but sometimes beyond true!
Because the complexity turned infinity
With all unreleased sores, you choose indefinitely.

Picking apart all the plucked up parts
You dream of designs something off the charts
The reality hits, stings incomprehensibly
This danger looms always grievously.

Seriously you have bright future, but you wear shades
So everything you see is dark tinted
So much for innovation, the heart finds problems
We will always think about unused items.
 Jun 18 Traveler
June
Looking into your vacant eyes now
switches the lights off
leaving only your silhouette
curled up in a storm
of stained pink sheets

No, you don't sleep anymore
except for when
you don't seem to wake
stuck in a trance
which smothers you

Everyday you choose tomorrow
to bet on
No, you haven't won in a while
silver gleams the moon
through your window
silver crinkles and breaks
when you press
on the plastic enclosed fog

Can barely stand
to hear you speak
when you've got nothing to say
the same stories
and unspoken worries
till they corrode in your memories
and disintegrate on your lips

Until the comfort of nightfall
coerces you
to spill your soul
a milliliter at a time
a puzzle I try to piece together
when sleep doesn't come easily

Everything is cumbersome
you hesitate
to move your limbs
over your bed
stuck between four cold walls
that draw nearer

As time flows between your fingers
the ceiling feels higher
the chasm beneath the floor infinitely
wider
hungrier
easier

Than the night illuminating your back
as you watch the stars
too bright
too high up
to remove
Heart ache like sandpaper slowly eroding away giving up whats left of me day by day.
Memories of people and places i once knew fading, as the flow of life keeps erasing and
re-shading.
Who was i and who were they? What will be left when everything fades away?
Some people gone and some just pushed out of reach, makes me want to build a wall that you cant breach.
The ache of loss can drive you insane. Loss of others, of yourself , of hope… its hard to maintain.
Weak and weary from the push and pull. Feeling desperate to see something meaningful.
Pouring myself out like water on the ground. Feeling absorbed and not profound.
Asking myself  why? what is it all for? Trying to be less and then trying to be more.
Life is a vapor a whisper of smoke. We try to make it more and then we choke.
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