Poems by Kamrul Islam
The Sketch of Heart
When some races get frozen in the chasm
of the horizon
a lost eye, a forgotten tune
keep watching the water of
an old well opening the window panes
of burnt songs.
The far past of cane-plants are seen
in wild waves of water…
In such leisure, I think of the picnic
of my adolescence sitting
in a tailor’s shop.
I also think of a lost habitation,
it’s surroundings and make a sketch
of someone’s sooted heart
remembering the beauty of the barbed wire
of the neighbours–
The Horns Of Buffalo
and the moon somewhat mad
walks into the battle of trees,
An ant sees the basic structure
the world moulds in distress.
The leaves are unitedly trying
to blow peaceful wind in the forest,
Though some trees are enemies
to some other.
Humans laugh at the delicte
hands of twigs and leaves,
The whole process happens
in midnight’s dream, the forest
evaporates before the eyes of
insane sky, so invisible…
The horns of buffalo in the bush
thrives by the haunts of lunatic moon
that baffle the capacity of earth.
If the world’s led by the ideas
of wild horse, how do I reach
the wind of melodious garden?