Poetry...from Haroonuzzaman

For a different room

Whenever I leave the western window ajar
Cacophony from satellite channels bursts into
My apartment to take you and I as captives As I open my eastern window
The shagged-out looks of the street kids
Crash down to the floor like crockery and cutlery We remain torn between the two for some time
Till one sultry day we bolt the doors, windows and move out While wallowing in pleasures
I fling open the northern window of my
New-found condo to let moonbeam sneak in But it sits on my bed like the wrinkly skin of a beggar
When I release the latch of the southern window We writhe in pain
We scour for another room
A room with a different view

A story retold

This is the best of times
Peacemakers throng around
Pristine Geneva Lake for multilateral rendezvous This is the worst of times
Peacekeepers rumble through
Wanton fusillades in Angolan, Iraqi, Afghanistan cities
Besieged people pass nights in fear It is the age of wisdom
Negotiators come and go
Allowing the bloodletting to continue It is the age of foolishness
One good turn never deserves another
Eye for an eye solves the better
Haroonuzzaman teaches English at Independent University.