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By you, by me
By the sky, by the wind
By the sound of fallen leaves
By the shadow of broken dreams
By the past days, by the infinite future
By the affection to you
By the smile of yours;

Never allow to drop my words on the soil.
On the occasion of the International Poetry Day 2021.
I lost my mind
In the vast field of green village
I lost my mind
At the river side of Shimultali quay.

I lost my mind
In the colored flowers of Caesalpinia pulcherrima
I lost my mind
At the canal of Matamuhuri.

I lost my mind
At the village market of Rangunia
I lost my mind
At the stalk of blossomed Lotus.

I lost my mind
By the tune of the lonely shephard
I lost my mind
By the silent song of the Jamuna river.
Note: Bengali name of Caesalpinia pulcherrima is Krishnachura. Here some renowned places of Bangladesh have been cited.
(Some childhood memories)
I still cringe when I meet someone with your name

Your name

Like the slowest poison
It never leaves me

Just slowly eats away

Ah your name

How I wish I could eradicate it from my soul
Poetry is vivid
Nature, leaves, rivers
So when a writer
Sits down for a lesson,
They are the notetakers
And Mother Nature is the teacher.
She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote
The sea is so tranquil
The wind does not stir
The sails lay dormant
Not even a seagulls cry
Then in the silence of the night
The moon lights a way
As the bodies float on
In the sea so tranquil
A poor soul, asked the eternity-
Can you tell me,
Where is my destiny?

The eternity jingled, mingled
Laughed, puffed
And said, why should I tell you,
In comparison to me
You are so tiny!

The poor soul, finding the response
Cried a lot, but silently
And asked thyself
For an appropriate answer-

Later on realized
The cruelty of fate,
And, thereafter
Remained silent forever.
There is nothing much left now
feelings fall
like autumn leaves
crushed by heavy boots
and soon forgotten in
winters debris
there is nothing much left now
but a spring clean
of everything we ever
strived to be
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