I know a river
One that I found and sailed
Met people on the banks
Held hands, shared a hug
– With a dagger in the cloak
The boy who taught me love
Saw a couple kiss
Beneath the old devil tree*
His hand on her waist
She looking up to him,
“They don’t close eyes when they do it, huh?”
“Don’t make any rules”, he winked.
Oh! I’ve seen him more than once
In tethered clothes
– he wrote happiness on the sky
Wish I could, too.
The young mother
Had a child in the buggy,
Another in the sling
And the last in a piece of cotton
From her neck
“Very treacherous, that river – you know?
Almost had me drowned”
“If you are born to be hanged, you cannot drown”,
Her eyes smiled.
Conceit, humility, love, hate
From an eerie knock on the door
To tales of Taslima’s** girlhood;
Today we aren’t
Fathers, mothers or children
At the crossroads
Words speak for us.
- Alstonia scholaris – Blackboard tree, Indian devil tree, Ditabark, Milkwood pine, White cheesewood and Pulai (Bengali:ছাতিম)
** Taslima Nasrin
We are celebrating 3rd anniversary at Dversepoets. Write an ode today– to a specifiic poet (dead or alive) or to poets in general–
Today– if not always anyway– it’s all about people—