your bittersweet laugh and the glint in your eyes still line my lungs and teeth.

His love
is the winter  
solstice, mounting  
the top of her world
where  
her love  
is the summer  
equinox, embracing  
the basis  
of his

/
When you are growing as a poet
your pain is pining to born a poetry
where there are too many clouds of emotions gathering,
also a pensive mood longing
then the thunder of thoughts growing,
your paper is awaiting for the first word
as I was waiting for you, my love
when you were coming slowly
then words of rain raining,
automatically,
randomly

When the first raindrop pings on the pond
even you don't know when it will be stopped
how far it will be covered
which path it will be taken
even its density,
dignity,
or the diversity

Your first word inks on the paper
you don’t know when it will be finished
which way the words will be taken
even you don't know
its size or style,
its fashion or the scheme

Either it's a long or a short
or even a sonnet or a verse
even its rhyming
or the rhythm

You should not think about its length
of course words grow as long as
the metaphors can travel
through its thoughts of cohesion
and its feelings moving
naturally,
poetically

You should not count the words
or even you can't stop within a limit
it makes your thoughts imperfect
rather you can tell totally
about the life,
or can tell about
the love easily
or beyond the life spontaneously

The words can grow 3,5,7
lines for a haiku
or even it goes for a mile for an epitaph
or more for an epic  

Poetry executes through words
words come from thoughts
thoughts come from the emotions
and ends with the wisdom
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

///

It is very easy to bear a child
when you are a good parent or not

It is also not too tough to write some words
when you are a good poet or not

But it is too tough for a parent to grow up   
their child as being a real man

As it is too tough for a poet to make
a meaningful poem with those words

Though either you are a very good parent
or a very good poet

///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

~
I am standing in such a space
that like an event horizon
where there everything is moving towards the dark
and usually the opposite is the light

The two ways are very distinct
the light
and the dark
but I am wondering for light
And I see,
any existence of objects that stand on the space,
and even time moving towards the dark

The attraction of dark is too high
its gravity beyond,
attracting the young and the old
it bends all the waves and moving towards the black hole
passing as clouds through the event horizon
where there I have stood
there is a boundary
between the heaven and hell

On the boundary,
the hell I see very near
and the heaven, I saw before
cause still I have some feelings
and all my feelings are accumulating in the bean
but the feelings have a little gravity
either good or evil
neither soft nor compact
all drops from the heaven's wall

It has grown more with time
compact more and more
either in core of heart or in pore of spaces
neither in sticky sand nor in the serene soul
all are moving toward the dark

And finally,
I see a big crunch in the dark
but still some particles of light are floating over the dark
and some are still struggling on the horizon
others are waiting on the event horizon to move toward the dark hell
and I am standing on the wall of the event horizon
neither my mind wants to move in the hell
nor I can moving back to the heaven

~
@Musfiq us shaleheen