Three Poems by Mohibul Aziz

 

Reality

I look at the kid,

At such an early age he is regimented

With Apple Tab Pod and whatnot.

Can you let me to Machu Picchu

In less than five seconds!

I take the challenge,

Stretch my hands,

Trudge for quite a while.

Ah codger!

Ruefully he reflects: you’re so slow!

And within split seconds he snatches away

The device from me—

Here you are!

His rapturous gloating beat me instantly,

The ancient civilization glares on the screen.

A paroxysm of rage overtakes me

But behind that ephemeral emotion

I discover the truth.

It’s true that we sit so close to each other

Yet it’s motion or speed that stands between us—

The kinematic reality can’t be evaded.

 

Labyrinth

To me the most presentiment disaster would be my death,

Nothing will happen in my life after that.

I don’t have any Dr. Pangloss to abide by,

I myself am the Providence of mine.

But can I remove or trample the person ahead of me

To reach the acme of my uphill destiny!

Well, Dostoevsky authorized I can—

Provided, I should be quite extraordinary.

I don’t know this thought makes my head-spin,

Yes, that may sound offhanded or even eerie

But his antagonist proved it.

On the contrary Candide considered every soul

Could be ordinary and extraordinary simultaneously.

So nothing wrong for a French upper class

To feel for a lower class Surinamese.

I read Marx Engels Gramsci Ostrovsky Weber and others

To edify my inner self.

Yet the theories remain intact and unmoved,

The moneyed people cackle to my words—

The cashier gives a scowl:

You can’t apply for this amount!

I morosely gaze at the ceiling:

All these years I produced only words and words.

To the extraordinary people those are nothing but carrions,

Poetry becomes scanty when I think of my shopping bags!

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Smile Flashes Like the Knife

I fell to thinking all of a sudden,

Why I always expect luscious words

From the encountered other!

Well, the toxic words may be sugar coated,

A knife edge could be hidden behind the smile.

So the smile flashes like a sharp knife,

Yes, a smile can hide a knife.

Who knew Chris Hannibal was hiding

A gruesome death inside his teeth!

Gloucester was like a knife to his brother Clarence—

So I’m thinking anew about smile.

And then you said, kiss me or I’ll kill you,

Surprisingly I forgot about the knife!

Mohibul Aziz was born in Jessore, Bangladesh in 1962. He permanently lives in Chattogram where he is a Professor of the department of Bengali Language and Literature, University of Chittagong. He is the author of nearly sixty books of various genres such as fiction, novel, essays and poems. All of the books are in Bengali. Private Moments and Resurrection of a Reformist and The Memory-Struck Swan of Cambridge are his three books of poetry published in English. His poems have been published in the Lothlorien Poetry Journal and the Setu Bilingual Journal and elsewhere.