A Trilogy on Creation

Part I: The Creation
[Written on December 23, 2012]

At the beginning of time when there was
no matter anywhere, no universe,
there appeared a particle of infinite
energy and with a bang there was light.

        

The continuum of space and time began,
and the new universe started to expand.
Since then the universe has been doing so,
ever red on the sailor’s telescope
while many stars have faded to oblivion
by now and galaxies too in billions.

            

By the source of that particle I am awed,
you may call it whatever, I shall call it God!
Deep in my heart I know that from God we have come
and in the end to God again we must return!

…

Part II: The Universe
[Written on August 25, 2013]

The realm of tangibility,
comprised of things that we can touch or feel,
is nothing but the visible tip
of an iceberg called, the universe.

The world of human senses or
even the grand Milky Way of our thoughts
is nothing but a grain of sand,
to the universe, had it been a desert land.

This universe is the primordial being
created by the God or Nature, for even
the odyssey of time and space began
one full ‘Planck time’ later than its creation.

* ‘Planck time’ = (5.32 × 10 to the power -44) Seconds which is the briefest physically meaningful span of time.

…

Part III: The Origin of Time and Space
[Written on September 25, 2013]

Before the origin of time and space,
before the spreading of the universe began,
the grandest scheme of creation was conceived
by the Existence, beyond our trivial perception.

In fact, if we can perceive anything
untainted from subjective inference remains,
in our thoughts, still an issue, unresolved,
with explanations both in favor and against.

Some have claimed that humans are nothing but
the vectors of what their senses have felt so far
while others have called life an illusion
and human beings, mere puppets in the Creator’s whims.

Living in the grand world of time and space,
thinking in a language restrained by them as well,
can we ever perceive their origin?
Can a buried corpse behold the shape of its marble tomb?

.

.

---

A Model Citizen

No thanks, we have had enough of your lies,
enough of your petty charms already;
now loose that mask of conjured illusions,
we don’t need your bravado anymore!

Or, perhaps we don’t deserve better men
and women too than their lot, for they are
from the same stock, same blood and land as us,
vilified the way power is known to do!

My heart dreamed of being a hero when I was young
but soon history showed me the fate of heroes
and philosophy asked me, what good it would bring,
if absolute power corrupts absolutely!

So I resigned all my dreams and learned to be a model
citizen who eats, breeds then casts his vote for them as well!

.

.

---

The Origin of Time and Space

Before the origin of time and space,
before the spreading of the universe began,
the grandest scheme of creation was conceived
by the Existence, beyond our trivial perception.

In fact, if we can perceive anything
untainted from subjective inference remains,
in our thoughts, still an issue, unresolved,
with explanations both in favor and against.

Some have claimed that humans are nothing but
the vectors of what their senses have felt so far
while others have called life an illusion
and human beings, mere puppets in the Creator’s whims.

Living in the grand world of time and space,
thinking in a language restrained by them as well,
can we ever perceive their origin?
Can a buried corpse behold the shape of its marble tomb?

Who Am I? (2)

Dedicated to M Z Hossain Palash (Kaka) And Shahin
——

I know I’m no poet or a noteworthy bard,
I just need to write down these haunting words
to make them go away, for until I do it
I cannot rest from a raw and blunt agony.
I know I’m neither suffering from insomnia
I just need to stay up alone at nights
for not a single neuron in my weary nerves
would turn away for their love of the silence then.
Once the noise of life arrives at dawn, to sleep
I can close my eyes and shut the remaining senses down.
I know I’m no rebel nor an utopian great,
an outcast may be but hardly a threat.
I cannot take most of the mundane things for granted
but I can neither ask anyone to be myself.
I know I’m no Socrates the great Athenian,
though these gadfly urges do provoke me to fight
the system and walk towards hemlock just like him
instead of living with selfish indifference.
Yet nor I can call myself a fighter as well
for all I have is a bleeding pen in my hand!