Bangladesh through Theater, Poetry, Fiction, and Cultural Criticism. Tuesday, 10 January 2012. 8211; Geoffrey Clive, The Romanic Enlightenment,. Sunday, 4 December 2011. Wednesday, 30 November 2011.

The seven poems here are collected from the 17 typed manuscript pages brought to the home of the poet Perla Rezait in 1971, a year before her death. What does one make of it? There is death-like passivity in the entire activity of stringing together the seventeen poems as. To the poet Perla Rozait a year before her death.

Poetry posted as and when it happens. Two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Hail to thee blithe spirit. Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts. Sonnet 130 by william shakespeare. Suckled in a creed outworn. The world is too much with us.

By the sweat of his brow. Making light of serious stuff. A poem a day by A. Light grew less in his eyes and other poems. Dad would rather not part with. His daughter into her marriage,. Spinster daughter,not a virgin. Her marriage is not important . Daugher is ,for doddering dad. Concerned about his hard shit. Everything goes down to shit.

And he looked at his wife, not with a smile now, but with hatred. She glanced at him too, and also with hatred and anger. She knew who would be the first to try and grab her winnings.

Poetry about the Indian situations ,Indian memes. In the midst of our presidential confusion. We may mention his passing of yesterday. Lecturing a bunch of north and east kids. To the management kids on wings of fire. A fire shall now bury president of all time. An old paper boy had aimed upper story. With news missile to reach morning cup. Later he made missiles for the high skies.

Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page. The lake that was sea. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Short poems built around a keyword. We are still on the earth anxious for victory. Of avoiding the bumps in our tiny stomachs. And the consequent high tension wires in us. Snapping in their lightning flash, a big bang. We are looking for our paper to fly like them. Who went before and are a dead-weight still. On the earth we are hanging on to the hangar. Counting Siberian bird feet into our swamps. There is not much of a sun about us. Where we and our other come from.

A poem a day written in 2011 and 2012. A poem a day by A. The chrysanthemums are stars of a sun. Taking sun light from wind and worms. A bouquet to no one except an earth pot. Its mother of womb, softly under water. In earthly fragrance of mother and wind. A sky overlooks from a blue parapet wall. Topped with a Krishna-black granite like. Lake mirroring shore trees,in the evening . Like sky-stars they seem to last for ever. A poem a day by A.

Photo art using artistic photo filters and effects. Camel man in the Jaisalmer desert. Gazing at the Splendor of Jodhpur fort. The camel man of the desert near Jaisalmer. At the royal cenotaphs in Bada Bagh in Jaisalmer. Bada Bagh in Jaisalmer with royal cenotaphs. Camel man in the Jaisalmer desert.