Waking up I see in mirror Dad's last quarter life's face
searching for the box of his movable teeth...
thirst in laxative taken woken up man's dry throat
six days' beard on rippled cheek, extra hair of brows covering eyes
with last care washing his loose gum with alum powder...
laughing toothless at the three black hair on his grey head...
unfastened nose ears eyes limbs are not there in his title deed
Alphabet's eroding atomic nectar sees each others' colours are original atoms
signs of chaos on corrugated forehead's wrinkles...
after a few days would arrive tin-made scissors & comb sans detol
the van rickshaw man of Imlitala would arrive to talk of wining lottery...
such other feelings are taking shape on the folds of face in mirror..
Turning back I see with immortal youth and manuscript of poetry Samir
At Bakkhali with Shefali today is their dating
till to know each others nature-earth home-system hill ridges volcano-mouth
manuscript of poetry ends writes oblation on last page
In mirror room Dad is looking at Granddad's face
Great Granddad looks at great grandson's face
after five rounds of defense at last I am alone at goalpost
facing the corner kick of opposition after saving a sure goal
in front of goalpost both jerseys taking positions
the ball is moving from head to head
I am bewildered in understanding both teams' position
I am scared if there is whistle for a penalty
mirror room's likelihood on the field...
searching for the box of his movable teeth...
thirst in laxative taken woken up man's dry throat
six days' beard on rippled cheek, extra hair of brows covering eyes
with last care washing his loose gum with alum powder...
laughing toothless at the three black hair on his grey head...
unfastened nose ears eyes limbs are not there in his title deed
Alphabet's eroding atomic nectar sees each others' colours are original atoms
signs of chaos on corrugated forehead's wrinkles...
after a few days would arrive tin-made scissors & comb sans detol
the van rickshaw man of Imlitala would arrive to talk of wining lottery...
such other feelings are taking shape on the folds of face in mirror..
Turning back I see with immortal youth and manuscript of poetry Samir
At Bakkhali with Shefali today is their dating
till to know each others nature-earth home-system hill ridges volcano-mouth
manuscript of poetry ends writes oblation on last page
In mirror room Dad is looking at Granddad's face
Great Granddad looks at great grandson's face
after five rounds of defense at last I am alone at goalpost
facing the corner kick of opposition after saving a sure goal
in front of goalpost both jerseys taking positions
the ball is moving from head to head
I am bewildered in understanding both teams' position
I am scared if there is whistle for a penalty
mirror room's likelihood on the field...
No comments:
Post a Comment