"Find out
exactly what it is about,
what words flirt around;
being inspired.
Seeing,
hearing
a piece of art,
hardrock rhymes
that tell what has transpired,
what had rambled on by.
Hard times,
or that feel-good story
that is too cliche for news
nowadays,
no love to be found.
Between then and now,
after everything that has happened,
still trying to climb a side of a mountain.
Reach up above and find purchase,
pull yourself onto the ledge,
overcome that edge.
Inspirational,
overcoming what supposed story
has made times get harder.
Determination
denotes what is to be,
or what can be deemed
a possibility.
So is it inspirational,
it being anything,
just because it had been done
by one who downplays the feat?
Nay,
it feels good instead,
the rushing feeling
of creating, being
involved in something more than me,
kittens and puppies,
dogs too,
more than you,
inspired to make a difference
because I had made made one
to your day,
or so you say.
As long as what is being inspired
doesn't bring the end
of art,
of love and life,
I'll do it every day,
I'll inspire,
unintentionally,
that's the point.
I think.
Nothing in this world compares,
being lost at sea;
tidal waves won't let me be.
So poetry,
a release to me,
inpires others?
I can live with that,
be it the truth."
মো. জিয়াউল হক-এর ‘কুড়িন’ মানে ‘বিশপদী কবিতা’র বই “ফ্রেগরেন্স অব লাভ” ইংল্যান্ডের বিখ্যাত অলিম্পিয়া পাবলিশারস থেকে প্রকাশিত হয়েছে। এই গ্রন্থটিতে ষাটটি অসাধারণ কবিতা রয়েছে যা পড়লে পাঠকগণ এক অনন্য নতুনত্বের সন্ধান পাবেন! বইটিতে অনেক বিষয়ের মধ্যে উল্লেখযোগ্য হচ্ছে প্রেম, জীবন, সমাজ, আধ্যাত্মিকতা, দর্শন ইত্যাদি। বইটি প্রকাশের শুরু থেকে শেষ পর্যন্ত কবির অনেক স্বপ্ন, আবেগ, শ্রম এবং সাধনা জড়িত।
প্রতি বছর ইংল্যান্ডের অলিম্পিয়া পাবলিশারস-এ অসংখ্য পাণ্ডুলিপি জমা পড়লেও কর্তৃপক্ষ গুণ ও মানের বিচারে শ্রেষ্ঠ গ্রন্থগুলোকেই প্রকাশের জন্য নির্বাচিত করে। মো. জিয়াউল হক-এর “ফ্রেগরেন্স অব লাভ” গ্রন্থটি কবি হিসেবে তাঁর শ্রেষ্ঠত্ব প্রকাশ পাবার পাশাপাশি সমগ্র বাংলাদেশের জন্যও এটি একটি ঐতিহাসিক এবং উজ্জ্বল দৃষ্টান্ত হয়ে থাকবে। সত্যিকার অর্থেই এটি বাংলাদেশি হিসেবে আমাদের গর্ব করার মতই একটি বিষয়। আমরা এই সুন্দর এবং চমৎকার বইটির সার্বিক সাফল্য কামনা করি। আমাদের আশা এই যে গ্রন্থটি দেশে বিদেশে বিপুল পাঠকপ্রিয়তা অর্জন করুক এবং কবি মো. জিয়াউল হক এবং তাঁর অসাধারণ গ্রন্থটি বিভিন্ন সম্মানজনক পুরস্কারে ভূষিত হোক। কারণ গুণীর প্রাপ্য সম্মান দিলে জাতি কখনও পেছনে যায় না বরং নতুন আলোয় উদ্ভাসিত হয়ে উন্নতির সিঁড়ি বেয়ে সামনে এগুতে থাকে। আবারও “সৃষ্টিশীলতার কবি” মো. জিয়াউল হক-কে শুভেচ্ছা এবং বিনম্র শ্রদ্ধা জানাই।
- নার্গিস সুলতানা
Your blessings and love have paved the way for me to publish my book of kurine [poems of twenty lines] titled “Fragrance of Love” from the renowned Olympia Publishers in England. Since the beginning till the end of the publication process of this book, much of my hard work, dream and dedication have been involved. You can collect the book here: http://www.amazon.com/Fragrance-of-Love/dp/1848975511/ref=sr_1_16?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1456418900&sr=1-16&keywords=fragrance+of+love
"Where so many rush to fall asleep,
I tend to creep,
afraid of the a lack of light,
what's in store for tonight.
Would you like to know why?
I'm afraid of what's inside,
what I always seem to need,
what sleeps within me.
When the darkness falls
and my mind succumbs to sweet slumber,
lumbering in comes the pattering of feet,
clawed, and I can't seem to scream.
I try to get out from underneath the covers,
to run away, but I am stayed
by the sudden jacket, holding arms back,
while at my heels chases the maniac.
It is the ghoul, it's in my room,
and now theres nothing but abyss,
amiss of clothes and shoe and tooth
as I run to only bring closer nothingness.
And now I am within reach, looking back
at the black teeth, to tear my wide and tall,
before tripping onto face,
no hands to break the fall.
And looking to what had cause the trip,
innocent children, empty faces,
look into me, through me, and it hurts,
it burns, no clue why they are in my plight.
And now taking flight, they chase me too,
I am running to a single point,
straight jacket still applied,
my escape impossible, my voice mute.
Again, so focued to the rear,
I forget about the front,
looking ahead to see now in front of me
the biggest snake ever slithers on scene.
The snake grows bigger, stopping,
rearing its head, baring its fangs,
it wraps me in it's tail,
and squeezes me tight.
I can't stand the grip, crying out,
but no sound comes,
just the sound of my eyes popping out,
and the sound of the plop.
The drop of me, hitting the carpet,
falling onto the floor, blanket wrapped around me,
back in my room, not monsters,
no snake no ghoul.
Just the sweat drenched shirt,
the paper-dry throat,
rattled, another night lost
to the internal battle. Nightmares reign."
"The Castle was gigantic.
Expansive, was it's wide thrust,
filled with cracks, crevices and uneven bricks
pock-marked with mortar turning to dust.
Inside the deep recess
was a dormant terror,
up in it's highest tower,
a princess lived, none fairer.
But both were locked up,
the furnace inside the gargantuan beast
kept the Castle warm,
the ovens hot, promoting many a feast.
But lest the monster
breaks its shackles!
As once had happened before,
the quest none could tackle.
Knight after knight
fell to the flame,
the winged lizard licking tongues
of fire all about, untamed.
Many an arrow was shot
from hunters brave,
but no purchase for any arrow
was, by the monster hide, gave.
Spear was no better,
having been thrown hard and true,
but not a single mighty heft
would force a metal tip through.
Then one day,
the princess who lived above,
just asked, 'give me a chance!',
but her father would allow no tug.
So that night,
while the great serpent ravaged the land,
she scaled down her tall tower
with the most daring plan.
She crept along the meadow,
in the cold of the moonlit night,
and up the the snoozing beast
she stomped her boot with all her might.
The beast sprung up,
startled awake by such a petite thing,
but before he bellowed flame,
she started to sing.
Sweetly, softly,
she sang out her heart,
and through spirit, ripped hers out,
and handed it over, so that they'd never be apart.
Since then,
the two remain locked up with no regret.
The land has since healed.
But many don't forget.
Of the Girl and her Wyrm,
the star-crossed lovers never meant to be.
And how through love and song
she saved all the eye could ever see."
"Almost tiring,
the bump of the shoulders passing by,
the hallways so full of students, mean,
their intentions unknown to what they vie.
But the Janitor,
mop handle twisting in wrists,
cleans the bustling halls, murder
of the sparkling floors committed with fervor.
Moreover, the students don't care!
But no matter, the Janitor smiles as he cleans,
leaning on his swab bucket, no flair
for how unfair redoing the swab job is.
But now it is after five,
the older gentleman is working his way up and down,
the passageways now empty,
all the students long gone home.
Quite the opposite scene,
from when the school was full,
a loud and swarming event, specifcally
during the lunch periods.
And during those times? While constantly
going back and forth, picking up spills
and keeping the floor clean,
he even feels grumpy.
But only now at this momement,
a longing, a forlorn feeling wraps itself
over the un-bumped shoulders of the man,
alone, doing his job.
The sudden wish the students were there,
to fill the empty space he cleans,
the abandoned place to fill up soon,
but not a moment too late, he steams.
All the moments that he's spent,
breaking up a fight between two boys,
frankly taking both collars in each hand
and talking to them sharply, they listened.
The time he talked to the crying girl,
leaning on the mop handle, wise counsel
spewed at a comforting rate to the young one
who had her first broken heart.
Or the time he tutored the troubled youth,
not in math or english but in life,
the boy sticking around while he cleaned.
alone, his only brother having been knifed.
Every smile he evoked,
with silly, word-play jokes,
every time he snapped at young students passing by,
keeping the rowdy in line.
The old man now smiled himself,
finishing up the entire school,
looking forward to the bustle to come,
the lockers that will slam, voices, loud.
The end of this feeling, eerie,
sudden, and no more farther then
when he will grumble, with a slight smile,
of the busy hallways where he will be bumped again."
"Don't get so frustrated,
it's only a book,
or a few words
that you threw,
hoping they might stick.
Sound familiar?
Surreal,
especially if you've stuck with it.
Life can be funny like that,
in fact, it is,
that the same things
seem to alwaus happen
to people who may wish
it wasn't the case;
assuming it's negative.
Once you give it a second
to process,
it's wild to think
the same exact advice
you give
is the opposite
of how you live
your own life.
Some advice...
Twice now I've had to step in.
To stop the golden desires
of sundrops on skin,
forbidden,
when there has already been seeds sown,
a tree has been growing,
and now there's doubt,
the axe lays on its side
nearby. Nearly every time,
it can hurt to cry,
but not if infidelity
is the reason why. At least,
let's hope
that's not the case.
I'd hate to see the fallout,
it'd be all over the place."
Write and write, then write some more
Oh how some have said “It’s a bore.”
What do they know? They don’t see
The magic of these words on trees
Tiny strips of once grand woods
Hold whole worlds, even in death
The tree is gone, but life is there
And it grows with every breath
To create such things as worlds and lives
To build them up and rip apart
The power, the emotions, oh dear writer
Here is a portal to your heart
Look at how each person changes
Look at how your worlds expand
Do you see lives rearranging
And all within your master plan
Oh, the excitement! Oh, the joy!
Beauty is here, beauty and life!
In the quiet of humble homes
A universe hides inside
Some poor souls won’t understand
They’ll never see what you have done
Don’t live for them, don’t mold your worlds
To show the cruelty they’ve become
Take a breath, then get to work
Go live within what you create
Be surprised, feel admiration
Feel love, joy, jealousy, and hate
Don’t be afraid to stray away
And wander down an unknown path
Surprise and awe aren’t just for readers
Not everything will need a plan
Just let the life grow on its own
Let the people all be free
And in their freedom, you will find
A world where you may wish to be
Life isn’t set in stone, my friends
And your writing is the same
Your words are alive, so just relax
And walk within your stories
Always remember, your world is living
It’s not just scribbles on a page
And always know, it’s your creation
Be proud, and please, keep writing