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Postmortem of a martyer

They kill animals

like  humans would do

They use blades

and  machetes

to cut open the throat .

to see blood rain over them

they enjoy .

They use machetes

To peel off the skin

As smoothly as a seov layer

and see

the muscle/ bone inside

They

chop the bone

to pieces

and make

chopping fun

They wear the bones

as bravery  sits

on the collars

They eat the flesh

as  bravery eaters

their  bones.

They 

the black ones

kill bones

of  society as well

They kill

bones  to make them wear

the  bones tear  apart

flesh  tear  apart

wearing bones

They click on rifles

to kill the bones

So that

the flesh  can’t talk

The click

bones  to  the home

and make them wear

they  click  bones

to make them wear

To make them sick 

They wear.

They use bones

as  macketes  to

kill humans 

They like blood

And dirt of the human mind

They use dirt to  write up

Innocents of society

And make them fear the  worst.

Come back Bangladesh

They remains

after 41 years

of   liberation war

to see the dawn of

a new era

A one

where no one like him

lives

No one  manages

to kill  anyone

No one thinks

of  this

The people live in harmony

And kill the  Bangladeshi  sons

who called  it  in war

They wait for justice

For  a trial to  end

They are

the war heroes

The  Call

for a nation  to stand up

from  a nation  that in ruins

a wake up call

Do  ye  hear it?

The voice of the martyrs

Saying its long been

A transitory  phase

And its time to go ahead in time

Must have been time that Bangladesh learns  walk  on its day

He sees bright future  ahead

but through  a dense  fog which clears

Bangladesh  we beauty

Where  or you

In time

Where  others

Are way forward

Leading the time backwards

They  born in horror

To see you come back where will you come

My  Bangladesh

Who are Swans

They use muscles

to kill a society

and use dagger

to chop it up.

They use blood 

to stain  their shirts

and wear it in place

where men fear

They use it

to wear  T-shirts

stained  in blood

mud , not mud

A smooth groove

on the throat

and the mud  slide

starts

A flat knife

used to kill

a daa – ramdaa

also seen

They pic

blood is spilled

all around

one is done

others around

They take turns

Spilling mud

On the ones

Who are swans                                                          

Visa

Waiting for a six

Waiting  for   a long time

Keep eyes  in  fix

A ball just clicks

If bowler thinks

The men  take  pics

The bats are thicks

The batsman  hits

The  ball just flicks

The boss   then sees

The  batsman nicks

The slipman picks

The  ones where are vise

Class

One is down

others are up

all one down

one is up

Love of Death

All is gone

In love of death

For them to cherish

alive  or dead

They used weapons

in love  of death

to kill the ones

the alive or dead

For them to cherish

Alive or dead

They used rods

To master death

They tried one

By virtue of faith

A month of December

An old man

left  alone

(recalling past

Passing street

in December)

loitering

for journey to end .

Been along one

though  not one  

that he wished

it would be

                                                             Month of December

                                                               Long year end

Long year end

New year starts

Internal compliments / strategies

Cold

Victory

Stary 

                                                          Let us walk together

 In peace

Not as strong / left alone

proud of past

want to guide young

Dream 1

I dream  to be an engineer

(for my parents )  want it  to be

I dream to be a doctor

For my  parents consider it

Wonderful

I dream to be an engineer

For my  Parents consider

It is wonderful

Dream-2

  I want to be an engineer

For my artist mom gets  underpaid

I want to be a doctor

For my father  suffered  a death

I want to be a dead

For   my life seems ( unbearable)

Reading  day and  night  and

waiting for  examination

its   unbearable

Tanwir Muhammed Taqi