January 22, 2018

Poem: Checkmate



by Shahinur Islam

When the illusive gap is plugged up between life and death,

in the sudden drop of the scenes— all powerful preparedness

disappears forever— as if throwing the cold water

in the blazing bonfire.

This truth of the moment still remains so much true as if

all the grand arrangements of life were overwhelmed to it

in a second.

Yet bonfire burns— it longs for burning everlastingly

by making all the timber-kindling-straw-diesel its fuel,

even by sacrificing itself in the other fire

or else by swallowing up the other fire fearfully.

It longs to burn many more days than the star in the sky

burning for million years more than other luminaries.

But alas! Behind the curtain in unpromising time

who seems to stand at ease and write graffiti on the wall

of some life or other, and as per the direction wall

which compliant slaves equip themselves to obey it always

with the cold water in their hands? Which god orders the pawns

of all lives in the chessboard of the world and still goes on

playing the game as he wishes? And he makes the ill rule

his rule for some reason or other, and rolls down laughing

for all the helpless checkmates of the world!


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