By Sayani Mukherjee
The dripping drizzle of first summer dawn
The leftover pansies bloomed to its core
I sang my morning symphonies
Under the Greenberg oak
The saddle of lost promised land
The beaded sanctuary
Waiting to be engulfed
A waning stormy moon
To questions and narrated agonies
A sea storm rained over
Purging silhouettes under it’s dark cavern
It bemoaned a devilish streak
As if hanging under the churches of revelation
The green oaked smile
Spoke to me
It’s hands are gripping wet a cement of laugh
A lull under the southern choir.
Angela Kosta, a literary force known for her profound contributions as a translator, essayist, journalist,…
In the dynamic world of plastic and reconstructive surgery, few names command as much respect…
We are thrilled to announce that submissions are now open for the Kavya Kishor International…
Sylhet, Bangladesh: Parvej Husen Talukder, a renowned Bangladeshi poet, children's writer, and journalist, has taken…
A Gateway to Knowledge, Encyclopedias from Bangladesh In the age of digital information, online encyclopedias…
Musasizi Timothy Karubanga, popularly known as Mk Timothy, stands as a testament to the power…