When I want its flesh and chase after it

On and on…

Then love is a choir having no songs

In its lovely hands when a damsel

Throws away blooming breasts into the

Water of verses…

A butterfly comes flying counting

The waves of ocean… a flying fish

Wants to commit suicide( its more than dying and death)

With a lonely simile of ancient epic.

Poetry comes crawling and shrouding face

From the split virginity  of green meadows

With a few handsome queries and human flowers

When and how a tune of  Bhatiali grooms my servitude

Is still a mystery….poetry stands on the no-man’s land

With a hand-fan calling the long humanity…

About the Poet

Kamrul Islam heads the Department of English at Rajshahi Govt. City College, Rajshahi, Bangladesh. Graduated from Rajshahi University. The variegated panorama of Bangladesh as well as its people, their long struggle from language movement to liberation war , war-after turmoil and other phenomena are rippling on the surface of  his poems. His poetry also incorporates the world with its fogs and lights. His essays on different topics have already created appeal to the avid readers. Seven books of poems and three of essays have got printed until now.

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