Poetry
Butler
Binoy Barman
(For Kazuo Ishiguro, 2017 Nobel Literature Laureate)
The language of self-deception—
Is that we are born for?
Leaves cannot whisper the truth
Eloquence is muffled by promises unfulfilled
Don't talk to me of dignity
It's only a myth
Or merely a mark of loyalty.
Forget and remember at your convenience
Ignore the urge of the self
Remember your duties
And forget all agonies
Memory is ambiguous
The morning smile or evening's glow
Are all leavened by wasted breaths.
What happens is not important
Feel the echo in your heart
Give away everything
All words, all dreams
All the water of the ocean!
What will be left in the end?
Only an oyster's empty shell
On an empty shore!
(Binoy Barman writes poetry and teaches English at Daffodil International University)
Two Untitled Poems
Sabrina Binte Masud
1.
In this borderland
the sky has a clear ownership,
and boundaries carry sign posts,
and I am running after the half
naked gnome who stole the ladder.
I was promised a trip over the
rainbow if I could catch the
little green man.
But, truth be told, I am enjoying
the view, a half-pint of a bearded
bum, fumbling off in the distance,
more
than a glimpse of
the promise land.
2.
A star crumbling within itself
Is tragic, I suppose,
Yet, even if it was for a moment,
The halo of exhaled star dust
is in itself a rebirth.
Dying so many times
in that many moments in a day,
and countless rebirths follow,
is colorful nonetheless.
So why mourn, if there is
no end?
Sabrina Binte Masud writes creatively in a number of genres and has won international awards for her plays.
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