Sarwar Chowdhury, the poet from Bangladesh
I'm telling you about Bangladesh, a wonderful country,
Located in the Bay of Bengal, on its northern coast,
Between Brahmaputra and Ganges, a triangular territory
Extending eastward to embrace the Surma River Valley...
In the northeast and southeast, having low hills of soft rocks.
Its ubiquitous Panthera tigris, known as Royal Bengal Tiger
A ferocious big cat, in fact, which is nice and very grand
The national animal, finding always its royal home here,
In the pristine mangrove forests of the Sundarban land.
For hunting pig, antelope, young elephant, and deer.....
With tropical monsoons, combining Dravidian, Persian,
And west European cultures, Mongol, Arab, and Indo-Aryan
It has a national bird, the doyle or the magpie robin
Changing it’s voice, breeding territories jealously guarding,
Unobtrusive each non-breeding season, nicely singing...
With the national flower, Shapla, the white water lily,
And Shapla Sqare, a monument in Dhaka, its capital.
With jackfruit, kathal, the national big fruit, and really
Growing to huge sizes hundreds of pounds, unique and real
And Nazrul geetis, a foundation of vocals in its complexity.
I seemingly hear Nazrul Islam saying with a voice so clear
''Amai nohe go bhalobasho shudhu bhalobasho mor gaan.''
Meaning: ''do not love only me, love my song dear’'
And I'm telling you about the poet Kazi Nazrul Islam
And I'm telling you about the philosopher poet Fakir Lalon
And about Rabindranath tagore, the Nobel prize winner,
Jibonananda dash, who wrote about the nature as poet
The tea gardens and the town on the bank of Surma river
And about Sarwar, the wonderful poet from Sylhet
Who writes his poetry worthily being a very good conceiver.
When he confesses by writing: ''My naked Beauty said-''
'Microcosm', 'Nothing can move faster than love speed'
'This is Love speaking', ''Male + Female = The M a n''
'My moon-river', 'Our reciprocal gravitation orbit'
His poems are like jewels made by a very good craftsman.
'Drilled by love! '', 'to change 'dust into pure gold'.''
' ''To be a PERFECT LOVER! '', while ''Tempo come and go.''
'Magnetizing mate-chum' 'Quizzical mind ''in tension'
When he writes always his words has a special glow
'All the best dear Bangladesh motherland mine ''I love you..'
He wrote about Royal Bengal so pleasant to the eye
' Do not know''jostle and joggle''He knows''Hazardous jolt'
Because he loves his country, the people, and the life
He is a real poet and his words fall like a thunderbolt.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
Royal Bengal Tiger
Royal bengal tiger!
When swim to pass across river
Target is determined.
Just straight forward move on
To reach that place has set out.
Ever if waves move little
Back to the beginning point.
Straight a must
No left no right
Upright - just.
Royal bengal do not know,
jostle and joggle
He knows-
Hazardous jolt,
Frightening thunderbolt!
Eyes are radiant with glory
Trustworthy.
Richer colour for
Amazing stripes
Created ancient myth and folklore
Royal bengal tiger never agree with
Mischievous counsel of jackals.
(The national animal of Bangladesh is Royal Bengal Tiger)
2/2/2008
poem by Sarwar Chowdhury
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The G o o d b y e
So I go
…..smile all of friend and foe.
.….the time has come to depart
…..be off a must that do us part.
…..do not shed tears do not mourn
…..wasn’t here- came to be torn.
So I go
…..smile all of friend and foe
…..life come, learn, burn, test, go by
…..death values life, gladly say goodbye!
…..love is the cause, life the effect
…..love to love, not to love in fact!
So I go
…..smile all of friend and foe
…..practice love to get the Love
…..things move see down to above.
…..all of soul mate, listen come near
…..love has set even will no appear!
So I go
..Dear earth, grateful to gravity..thanks basic forces..mountains, green grass…sun moon little star..thanks Himalaya… butterfly, birds, rivers…..
O sky, dear cloud, rain, sea, ocean thanks lot..blossoms of bosoms… waves, dawn, breeze.. dear shade trees! anguishes felt, but
nothing to do, thanks and forgive, dews drop, days,
sunshine, nights..thanks flood, cyclone, tsunami
….to volcano too…and satan, couldn’t
Influence me to loot innocence of sweet
girls, thanks to your failure.And owls,
born blind to dark night
thanks for prayer
in vain…
So I go
Dear dogs, cats rats..monkey dolphin donkey…smile all animals in Asia Africa Europe, Australia, America…. Amazon, sundarban…smile sweet dear humming bird… Royal Bengal tiger…. horse, aphrodisiac zebra, cow, ass, ants bees … deer, hare, carnivorous bear..smile venomous snake, insect.. and too, dear penguins..And colours in motion..the origin absolute white..
So going away dear Tajmahal..All the best dear Bangladesh motherland mine …O my golden Bengal, I love you.. Know, this is not an end of the self but an end…ordered to came from timelessness, lived in time and return now into timelessness… So going away…bye dear bye, thanks for thou invisible kisses again and again..warmth regards…cheerio!
*** [I was sleeping in the afternoon the other day. In dream I saw, I was writing ‘the goodbye’ poem. And when awaked I turn on my friend poet Mustakim rahi’s computer and started write this piece.]
-september,2009- All right reserved
poem by Sarwar Chowdhury
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I Miss my Spring
The spring takes leave as soon as it peeps
Says go, blooming flowers and giving sudden wind.
The spring comes only to maintain its rule, we cannot
Touch its deep. The spring did not sing the sky
Of the Bangladesh after the poet Rabindranath
These is no such noteworthy research is done in course
Of the short existence of spring. It is not discussed in
the seminar. Only a few poets wrote a few lines on some
poems of lamentations. We shall not get back
the spring as we the poet does. Only singing
(poet) song and seeing the yellow cloth
wearing women. We shall recollect it with
joy once the spring was in the royal throne
poem by Ravisankar Maitree
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O My Bangladesh Of Gold - Original By Rabindranath Tagore
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom! Your sky and your air
Attract me like a flute-player!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom!
In spring in mango gardens
I have smelt holy fragrance!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom!
What have I seen in autumn?
Fields full of crops so handsome!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O the beauty and the shadow
Where my affection and love grow
Under the banyan trees and
On the shores of rivers that flow!
O my mom!
Your words are sweetest to me!
If you look pale and gloomy:
I shed tears in sympathy.
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
poem by Asif Andalib
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The Poet Writes Of Poems And Poets And Poetry
THE POET WRITES OF POEMS AND POETS AND POETRY
The poet writes of poems and poets and poetry,
And the world goes by
And nothing is done.
And the sky- the sky.
Is it still above?
And Love and Kindness
Are they still deep in us,
Words or not?
Without Poetry the world does not exist for the poet-
But for others,
Dreams have other names,
And Music plays on,
And singing and laughter
Go on as the Beauty of Light.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poet Loses His Power For Poetry
A POET LOSES HIS POWER FOR POETRY
A poet loses his power for poetry
He can put down words
But they no longer have poetry in them
Something of the feeling of what real poetry is
is gone.
He strives
He writes again and again
He puts words down in the forms and in the shapes his poems usually take
But he has no poetry in him
He has lost what he is
And all he can do
is strive again and again
Word after word
Silence after silence
To hear within himself again
A voice he does not have.
The poet is writing poetry
And it is not poetry
The poet is dead
And he is pretending to be alive
Is this a poem?
Is he a poet
Is he dead?
Is he alive?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Message Here For All You Poets
The love poet writes of lovely things like true love and flowers in bloom
And the roses in the poet's garden scent of a sweet perfume
And the gentle hearted applaud him saying what a marvellous poet
He surely is a child of God and one worthy of note.
The love poet writes of love of God and the God fearing say
He's a fine poet one of the best love and respect to God he pay
He hear no evil speak no evil only write of God and love
And there's a place reserved for him in God's Kingdom up above.
The social issues poet writes of the poor and few his verses read
They say he writes such morbid stuff sob stories we do not need
He keeps highlighting the downtrodden and those in poverty
He ought to put more trust in God and in Humanity.
A message here for all you poets don't write of the downtrod
But write of affairs of your heart and write of your love of God
And some will say how great you are and your praises they will sing
And they will pay respect to you and call you their Poetic Queen or King.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To God Give The Glory (Monchielle)
To God give the glory
Is a treasure to read
Christina R. Jussaume
Is great poet indeed
Her poems vanish gloom
To God give the glory
Her love for Christ is pure
It reflects thru poems
Her words are wise and kind
Uplifts the soul is true
To God give the glory
I'm glad I got a copy
You'll enjoy what you see
She writes witty and nice
Happy her book I read
To God give the glory
Poet tells some funny jokes
She writes of God and life
Of Christ and all she knows
Poet shares loves and strife
November 25,2009
Author's note:
'To God Give The Glory' is a wonderful
and very uplifting poetry book written by
the great poetess Christina R. Jussaume
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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This Poet Is Always Beside You
You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Don't
Don't fall in love with a poet
for they will melt your heart
and there is no escape, you see
for romance is their art.
Don't try to vie with a poet
for words trip from their mouths
as easily as quick silver
that lines the darkest clouds.
Don't tell a poet your secrets
for very soon you'll see,
they'll write them as a metaphor
upon a paper sea.
Don't make a stance with a poet
for you don't stand a chance
they'll sway you with emotions
and words that sweetly dance.
Don't fall in love with a poet,
however they endear,
for strong romantic gestures
will conjure flowing tears.
Don't fall in love with a poet
for life will surely change
but oh how happy you will be
to have it rearranged.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Mahanadee Vavroovahana Patra
Mahanadee is beautiful;
Lovers are delightful.
Boys play on the river;
Guys roam with pleasure.
Sands dazzle with sun ray;
Poet derives peace, gay.
Pebbles dazzle naturally;
Lovers enjoy the beauty gaily.
Pure water flows on the river;
Sun beam plays on the water.
Sun God mirrors on the water;
The spectacle allures writers.
Poet depicts verses gaily;
Derives peace silently.
Sun rise is beautiful;
The morn is delightful.
Sun god smiles in Eastern Horizon;
Beauteous is the mysterious creation.
Poet surrenders on sun God’s Lotus Feet;
Mind enchants with delight.
Mahanadee is a Deity;
Provides peace, gaiety.
Flows on Odissa’s soil gaily;
Mingles in Bay of Bengal lovingly.
The lovely river magnifies the beauty of Nature;
Allures poets, writers with pleasure.
Poet surrenders on God’s feet on the river;
Soul drinks the nectar of peace, pleasure.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Letter To A Young Poet Revised
Letter to a young Poet
Dear Raman, so you want me to read your poem and state my opinion.
Well, you are fond of words and you are stacking them up in your poem.
That is a good thing; clearly you are a man who reads a lot.
So you want to be a poet, poetry is self indulgent pass time it doesn’t
change anything, no one reads it, other than cranky people. Should
a poet writes something nationalistic that resonance with, a nation’s
pride, like: “my country is the best in the world.” He will get a medal.
So why don’t you become an engineer or failing that, a cook. The world
doesn’t need, anymore academic poets who forever repeat what poets
of yore have said. For the common man a poet is regarded as a figure of
fun who spends valuable time putting useless words together to make
sense of a world he doesn’t understand. As my father said, when my first
poem was published: “How much did they pay you? ” If my words have
not scared you off, you’re a poet. The only tool you’ll need is honesty.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Poetry Sweetheart named T
There is a young lady
who calls everyone sweetheart,
who gives the impression
she is Wonder Woman,
in a way she is.
A wonderful poet
who gives us a glimpse
deep into her life.
Reading her poems
is like peeking into her diary.
She can be coy, candid,
and great friend as well.
She can be fun to be with
I know that so well
for I met her at Stratford.
She pleaded with me
to go along.
I’m glad I did
for a great time
was had by all.
Now she is in love
and all of us know
it’s a match made in heaven.
He is her soul mate,
her lover
and soon she’ll be his wife.
Love for our poetry sweetheart
has never been so grand
and I’m hoping
all the best for them.
I’ll write a special poem
nearer the time.
In the meantime,
this poem goes to the poet
who loves to call everyone sweetheart,
and who is everyone’s sweetheart.
Our one and only
Tara McHale.
To end this
I would like to say.
T this for you
from your friend always
DD
poem by David Harris
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God's Poets A Good Poem & Love
GOD'S POETS
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
The Poet And The Lonely Lady
one summer a poet writes about
true love
and happiness
and this lonely lady
chances upon the lines of this poet
and she has tasted the sweetness
of happiness that love can bring
she loves every word in the poem
feels the ecstasy of every line
and every night
she says she cannot sleep
thinking, feeling,
wanting to be lost and be held in
his arms
she decides to love
the poet
ultimately
she travels to the place stated in his address
hoping to see him
so she will finally know
his love that touches her
in the bottom
of her heart
only to find out
it is sad
that the address does not exist
and the poet does not live there
and does not even
exist
perhaps only in the imagination
of those who want to love
and be loved
she is so sad she jumps into
a conclusion that love is a
lie
that the poet is a
liar
since then, she stops reading the poems
of that poet
(or any other poet)
who never dies
because he for once never ever lived
in the first place
except the poem
perhaps
which to date still convinces lonely ladies to live and believe
to love and be loved
that which defines
what love is
where love is found
and find it somehow in the arms of one
who is real, like it is alive, like it is true
to the one beside her
who touches her
with his
warm hands
who melts
her in his eyes
because
even unwritten by any poet
this love is still so beautiful....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poet Of Our Time
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Poet Of Our
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You are the poet
Poet is a journalist
Watches the feelings
Watches the emotions
Watches the world
Watches the light and
Watches the dark
He thinks everywhere
Others can’t imagine
-o-
Chasing the thoughts
Searching the words
Forming the sentences
To give the expression
To put the life in it
-o-
Poet is like a cook
Collecting good ingredients
Cooking the feelings to
Present in better way
-o-
Poet is like a soldier
Fighting in the war and
Fighting with the self
Feeling the pain and
Bleeding the emotions
Making room for self
To express the story
To save the people
-o-
Poet is like mother
Cooking the soft food
Feeding smoothly
Treating the readers like his own kids
Reader’s happiness is poet’s happiness
If you can’t praise, no problem
But don’t forget to acknowledge
-o-
Poet is the center of universe
Editors, Music directors,
Composers, singers, musicians,
Media everybody is rotating around
-o-
Poet writes to quench intellectuals
Poet writes to entertain good listeners
Poet writes to move hearts
Poet writes for a cause
Poet write for entertainment
Poets write to express themselves
Poets write to share their feelings
-o-
When time is running
Poem is the history
In present it reflects the story
Poem gives the hope in future
-o-
Poet is the planter
Plants seeds into your hearts
Make sure that it sprouts
Brings the thoughts into actions
-o-
Poet is the director behind your actions
Poet is the motivator behind your feelings
Poet is the coach who puts you on track
Poet is person whom your heart likes
-o-
Poet is the soldier when he uses poem as bullet
Poet is the coach when his poem moves your heart
Poet is the love, when he gives poem as flower
Poet is the parent, when he consoles you in your troubles
Poet is the healer who heals souls
Poet enters different roles
To justify the poem and to justify the people
-o-
Poem is the form of literature
We can find in holy books
Poem is the feelings
Poem touches the hearts
-o-
Sun can be seen in day
Moon can be seen in night
But poem is there day and night
Poem is powerful than nature
Poem don’t have life and death
Just it flows from heart to heart
Poet is the instrument
In the hands of the poem
-o-
If you drink a cup of alcohol
It may stay there just for hours
If you read a good poem
Nobody knows how long it gives the kick
-o-
When you have time, read a good poem
When you have time, write some poetry
When you have time, share a poem
-o-
You will be the poet, when you read a poem
You will be the poet, when you put on paper
You can be the poet to change your self
You can be the poet to change the world
You must be a poet, to enjoy this life
Waiting for you, to listen to your poem
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
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