Boosts Artistry

10/01/2021

It's not so far from a simple conversation with Asian woman to living together 😊

Enjoy this today in a few steps

06/19/2021

We all wear scars, find someone who makes yours feel beautiful.

06/19/2021

be the kiss in my hair
that no one sees

move, when i move
sigh, when i sigh...

be that line from a poem
that i hold in my eyes.

06/19/2021

We lay our words like tenuous plats, build a bridge over its
unsinkable depth: Not a sea of longing,
but the brack of wanting what’s physical
to help us forget we are physical.

06/18/2021

Don’t give me those
blue eyes please,
I’ve already given
up on our dreams.
Nothing can bring
back the times where
only memories reside.

06/18/2021

What was the name of that editor of Janata? 1961:
On the front page, he wrote: Won’t last, won’t last!
Him? Maybe he is called Mogambo.
Then 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966
Who was that short man, wrote in the daily literary supplement
That? How long will that last? Won’t last.
What was his name? That man, at the Esplanade book stall
Can’t remember? Where did he go, that man?
In a famous little magazine he wrote—
Him? Maybe he is called Dr Dang
Then 1967, 1968, 1969, 1970, 1971, 1972
Can’t recall? Thick glasses, a swift stride—
Him? Maybe he is called Gabbar Singh
Why can’t you remember the names their fathers gave them?
Forgotten in just 50 years? Where did they go?
And that fellow who wore loose trousers and a bush shirt
And wrote so many times: Won’t last, won’t last.
Then 1973, 1974, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1978, 1979,
1980, 1981, 1982, 1983, 1984, 1985,
1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992,
1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999,
2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007,
2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014
What? Can’t remember yet? What a strange fellow you are!
So many writers, editors, poets repeatedly
Wrote: Won’t last, won’t last, won’t last too long
People will forget soon. And yet you struggle
To recall their names? Then let it be!
Let Mogambo, Dr Dang and Gabbar Singh
Be their names in the history of Bengalis.

06/18/2021

In dividing the light, things are seen. And we notice ourselves.

06/18/2021

i am awake and alive
and swollen and heavy
with love.

06/17/2021

what would I do without this world faceless incurious
where to be lasts but an instant where every instant
spills in the void the ignorance of having been

what would I do what I did yesterday and the day before
peering out of my deadlight looking for another
wandering like me eddying far from all the living
in a convulsive space
among the voices voiceless
that throng my hiddenness

06/17/2021

and everyone wants to read the poem
we’re afraid to write.

06/17/2021

So dawn goes down today... Nothing gold can stay.

-- Robert Frost