I hear the wind
whipping through the freshly-leafed elm
its long sonorous undulating chord
is as light as sunbeams
as alive as the spring saps
rushing wildly up the redbud and pear
eager to burst out of their limbs
into green glory.

The moon smiles on your face
to make the night wonderful
The ocean flows in your eyes
to make the waves beautiful
and I melt in your arms
where I find peace.

The clouds feel jealous
of your smooth hair
The gentle breeze blows
your smell in the air
and you melt my heart
with your sweet voice.

Maybe nature is pleased
with your simplicity
and the spring is painted
with your beauty.
I find kindness in your words
and hope you'll shine me always.

Freedom, you are the pride of Bengal
Freedom, you are the right of Bengali
Freedom, you are the light of life path
Freedom, you are built with the blood of Bengali!

Freedom, you are the smile of sad moms
Freedom, you are in the heart of Bengali
Freedom, you are the moon of the night
Freedom, you are the best success to Bengali!

Freedom, you are the reward to the ****** ocean
Freedom, you are the reverence to crores of Bengalis
Freedom, you are the reason for happiness to Bengalis
Freedom, you are the new life of Bengal!

Freedom, you are the dream of millions of martyrs
Freedom, you are the island of the endless ocean
Freedom, you are the long hair of the village girls
Freedom, you are so high like the blue sky!

Freedom, you stay in real action
Freedom, you stay in the spirit of Bengalis
Freedom, you stay with black and white
Freedom, you live in everyone's religion!

Freedom, you are my first priority
Freedom, you are my first torch
Freedom, you are my dignity
Freedom, freedom, I'll never do injustice to you!

Caution: Objects in poems are deeper than they appear.

The more shallow it looks, the deeper it is.

Please wear your life vest at all times,

And may we take this moment to highly recommend the buddy system?

We happen to have one available if you are unable to locate a buddy.  😊

We bathed on the carpet’s edge, in October light
made warm again by pimple-glass and wishful thinking.
We played games and we whispered- as if quiet
could conjure Safe from thin air, and noise conjure Evil.
We occupied the in-betweens; the hall, the stairs, the path.
Drew and drew and drew, with red-brick and chalk and dust.
We chewed the skin around our nails, until our fingers cried-
And when Dark came early, he found us fighting Monsters
in the Artex with our jagged little minds.

gloves-off, she
leans on her back foot
moves fast and hides tired eyes
behind a battle-blue arm  

from a punch-bloodied mouth
she spills and spits words out on canvas
makes way for cool air- tries to
pacify lungs before they explode, calm
a heart that longs to rebel

she needs to feel loved, but can
be understood only by tracing braille-like-trauma
on her Vaseline skin-
and if she’s not out for the count
she doesn't keep still

A shade hidden in rain-puddle-oil and January dust,
too dark for love. But please, slip fingers between
my clothes and my skin, press. Press in and whisper.
Whisper spells to quell the bloom of old ghosts and
sting of raw nerves.