Winds of honest scented
insistence glided my wings
through life’s many dramas.
Raw breezes fragrantly
touched my unsure skin
with soothing perfumes
promising my faith was
not errantly consumed.
I thought, go until I had it,
not go until the path quit
without signs I had tried.
I imagined a target future
sat for my eventual,
precisely aimed, bullseye.
That’s a notion I did covet,
even leaned it towards perfect.
If bottled, wind's cologne could
release sachets of peace to
waft serene blends upon and
through times of disquietude.
Is it selfish
to want to be myself?
Even if that self
doesn’t care as much
as who I pretend to be?
Is it selfish
to want help
even though sometimes
I don’t want to help others?
Is it selfish
to be tired of being leaned on
like a tree holding stones?
Even if my trunk has bent
beyond repair?
Am I selfish?
From my Hillview home beside the Ruby Gate,
I watched the blood moon rise,
its red fire spilling across the Bay of Bengal.
The sea turned into a vast mirror of flame,
the mountains stood hushed,
their green shoulders brushed by crimson light.
Karnaphuli flowed like a molten ribbon,
carrying whispers of old songs to the shore.
Not alone on the hill,
I felt the city breathing beneath me,
yet only the moon kept me company.
Its scarlet face leaned close,
as if the heavens bent toward Chittagong.
In that hour,
I was both witness and keeper of the glow.
And with my brother Shimul by my side,
We sealed the night in memory, unforgettable and wide
Last night as I drifted off to sleep
My dream filled my mind with you
A dream so real I had to make a wish
That someday my dream would come true
We were standing by the waters edge
On a beautiful white sandy shore
We were lost in each other's eyes
I was longing as you craved for more
I wrap my arms snugly around you
And I held you there close and tight
As we watch the sun fall in the ocean
And the stars shine on our perfect night
After a while you turned looking at me
We both leaned in and our lips they met
Loves was tingling its way down my spine
I knew then my future with you was set
I knew that I had to have you forever
From now to the last day of my life
I had no ring but that didn't stop me
I asked you if you would be my wife
we came up same building,
same busted elevator, same rumors in the walls —
three girls stacked on top of each other
like secrets whispered through radiator pipes.
6S - she’s half rican, half black,
but don’t call her half - she all attitude,
dark skin glowing when she laughs too loud,
hips slick like she dancing with nobody’s permission.
5E - 5’1 and built like a threat,
she got a stare that’ll stop you mid-lie.
she hate surprises, so we never sneak up -
she come knocking first if you do her wrong.
then me - 7N, freckles spread like stars on light skin,
red-brown hair tied up, book in my lap,
content to stay inside while they chase block heat.
they pull me out anyway - stoop nights, corner gossip,
big dreams that don’t always fit our pockets.
we so different it make no sense -
three girls shaped like soft rebellion,
like hard lessons, like love
that never needed no permission slip.
puberty tried to twist us up,
boys tried to break us open,
life threw her worst
and we just leaned closer -
me, yaphia, tarita - same building girls,
same busted elevator,
still going up.
The world grew softer after we fell in love,
Even the winds spoke gently in the trees.
A silver hush followed the wings of doves,
And twilight seemed a blessing, not of grief.
The stars bent lower, trembling in their fire,
The rivers sang with voices newly sweet.
I felt the earth lift higher in desire,
And every flower leaned toward our feet.
No longer did the night hold fear or cold,
Its darkness was a shelter, not a snare.
We carried secret suns no hand could hold,
A warmth that lit the shadows was foretold.
Yet even joy is tender, made to part—
It lingers in the quiet of the skies,
And leaves its fragrance hidden in my heart.
Gleaming diamonds that dot the skies
Peering through the night with trillions of eyes
Behind crescent smiles, you wink a distant threat
Oh, faceless gaze, how I wonder what you're looking at
You come with shrouds that cloak our sun
As hellfire burn behind the black you've spun
You weave the constellations like gossamer webs
While in wide-eyed wonder, we meander into your nets
Travelers crossing the night have leaned on you so
For your twinkling fingers point which way to go
But as your blinking orbs appraise their every move
You chart our world—every corner, every groove
Trillions of eyes cut across the darkness deep
Tendrils of light rain upon us while we sleep
While crescent grimace whisper into our dreams
Oh, twinkle, twinkle, draw us closer into your seams
In seventh grade’s uncertain glow,
She sat outside where shadows grow.
Backpacks slumped, the sunlight waned,
While restless truths could not be named.
A thought slipped free, both shy and sly,
A quiet murmur: I think I’m bi.
The friend leaned close, her gaze intent,
Questions sharp as the day was spent.
How do you know? Does a girl’s soft face
Haunt your mind in a secret place?
She shook her head, though deep inside,
The truth stirred fierce, refused to hide.
Two girls in Python’s tented gloom,
One kissing the other’s skin in bloom—
A spark had flared, both hot and sweet,
A memory time would not defeat.
Curious—nothing more, the claim,
A verdict wrapped in quiet shame.
Yet there beneath that fading sun,
Her truth had bloomed—its fight begun.
I saw a streak of living flame,
with no regard for rule or name;
It tumbled through the morning grass,
as if the sun had come to pass.
Its paws struck earth in tiny drums,
like thunder where the daylight hums;
The wind bent low to kiss its ear,
the sky leaned down to watch it near.
It charged at leaves, then spun away,
a knight without a war to play;
Its tail a banner, bright and free,
declaring joy for all to see.
And when it stopped, and caught my gaze,
all breath was gone, all time erased;
No crown, no sword, no sky above
just two small eyes, and endless love.
Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when with surmise
the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art !
"Bite me" he says to an empty sky
Oh my! How angry he was, cuz his love decided to die !
It was not her fault at all...
she had cancer and God decided to take her away!
"Gotcha" said the angel with the droopy diaper
of course he thought he was King's Bee, both cute & dapper !
Jill leaned over by the park bench and offered him
half of her sandwich, Baloney and Mustard !
It was his wife's favorite, she had wrapped it the same way too !
He took it as a sign that she had sent her down from heaven.
Tears spilled over when he saw that she was wearing,
a gold pin with a four leaf clover!
When cupid's arrow aims for you, there isn't much that you can do !
Ps: Now lets see what you can do ! Please join my contest. :)
Every dawn looks the same.
I chased the sun.
I pleaded with the skies.
I waited behind my watching eyes.
I needed to break the knot.
I wasn’t made for straight lines.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
I waited until the wind leaned in,
To blow my way and follow.
The sky leaned in; It knew my name,
but the sun's light refused to bend.
I grabbed the rays in shaking fists,
Wove them round my wrists,
Pulled them in close,
'til they broke,
And shone a new path for me,
etched by the wind,
now chasing behind me.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
You think you know the game
Until the light won’t change.
Your path stays the same again,
until the wind changes,
and you bend the light
to your direction.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
You can't control the sky for long,
Or hold a cloud fixed in place.
Until the wind changes -
Fills your sails behind you.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
colorful butterfly faerie flew into the garden today
The marigolds, lilies and lilacs all leaned her way
Wanting a favor, a glimpse, a look at her gown
She had a terrific personality, and no kind of frown
She is such a beauty! The elves and dwarfs did agree.
Tomato worm never saw her; he was watching TV
The radishes and carrots tried to get her to come over.
She was adorable! said the cat and an old dog named Rover.
Colorful butterfly faerie told them she would be back soon.
She had promised a relative she would meet them on the moon.
As she flew away, the garden waved and yelled out good-byes.
Within minutes she had entered a large cloud up in the skies.
When you steal, it’s more than an object you take—
You sever a thread in the soul you forsake.
That bracelet? A gift from a mother now gone.
That wallet? A dream that someone leaned on.
Behind every item lies a story untold,
A piece of a life that was cherished and bold.
To you it’s just something—cheap, small, or fast,
But to them it’s a moment that never comes back.
You may not hear the silent cry,
Or see the look in their searching eye.
But a wound is made, silent and wide,
And something pure begins to die inside.
In taking what’s not yours to claim,
You tarnish your truth, you darken your name.
A flame within flickers low and cold,
And down a darker path, you’re pulled.
Yet there’s a choice before that fall—
To rise, to grow, to heed the call.
Learn the worth of honest trade,
And let your light shine undismayed.
Respect what’s theirs, find your own way.
Stealing may take, but it won’t ever pay.
Love, he says, sounds like a door
closing softly in a room built for your name—
that measured click holding its breath,
the air swelling in its pause,
as if the walls themselves leaned in
to listen for what would not come.
Later, he becomes a man
rewriting himself in a language
he can almost hear but never speak—
his phone dim on the table beside him,
your name a faint tide
appearing, receding
before the edge of his resolve,
each unsent word heavier than speech.
This is the archaeology of want:
he dusts the edges of your gestures,
catalogues the tilt of your cup
before your mouth finds the sentence,
traces the seam
where your hand once crossed his skin,
keeping each relic
as if it could shift the sky’s design.
And perhaps this is why
when physicists speak of the force
that threads galaxies together,
I think of him learning
to love in the way light bends—
how it travels centuries
to arrive at a place already changed,
still carrying the warmth
of where it began.
You stood like dusk before me,
quiet and burning at the edges.
I knelt, not to worship —
but to listen
to the storm beneath your stillness.
And later, when you opened
like evening —
petal by pulse,
I came not to take
but to taste what you trust.
My lips learned your language
one slow syllable at a time,
your breath catching like candlelight
in a room forbidden to flame.
Thighs, hands,
gates, tides —
we offered our silence
in mirrored submission.
I stayed low,
beneath the spoken,
you leaned in,
past control —
we drank
from each other
until names unraveled
into salt and sky.
You shattered
not into pieces,
but into light,
and I carried you on my tongue
as you carried me on yours —
two mouths full of reverence,
two bodies fluent in hush.
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