The goverment lawmaker asked the opposition
Lawmaker,
'Who did you vote for in the last election last year?'
'I voted for the one true leader of the people',he replied.
The government lawmaker said,'And yes, you voted right!'
nonsense16
I take a matchstick out of the matchbox and light it.
Why?
I do not smoke, nor do I need a light.
When the fire dies, I put the matchstick back in the match box.
I take another matchstick and light it.
When the fire dies, I put the matchstick back in the match box.
Gradually all burnt matchsticks, replace all good matchsticks;
The matchbox with all burnt matchsticks
Remains in my hands as valuable as my life!
Why?
I do not smoke, nor do I need a light.
When the fire dies, I put the matchstick back in the match box.
I take another matchstick and light it.
When the fire dies, I put the matchstick back in the match box.
Gradually all burnt matchsticks, replace all good matchsticks;
The matchbox with all burnt matchsticks
Remains in my hands as valuable as my life!
nonsensense15
One day I will become famous, very famous.
Cameras will flash, pens will role,
legends will sprout in my name;
Newspapers would loose readers, TV channels would loose viewers,
events would loose participants without me.
You see, I would grow busy, extremely busy then.
I would not have time to cherish the homage people and you, would pay me.
Why keep your homage waiting to be unheard? Why don't you pay homage to me now?
Cameras will flash, pens will role,
legends will sprout in my name;
Newspapers would loose readers, TV channels would loose viewers,
events would loose participants without me.
You see, I would grow busy, extremely busy then.
I would not have time to cherish the homage people and you, would pay me.
Why keep your homage waiting to be unheard? Why don't you pay homage to me now?
nonsense13
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....he laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....she laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....they laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....I laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....you laughed. Or did you not?
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....we laughed!
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....he laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....she laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....they laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....I laughed.
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....you laughed. Or did you not?
Hah hah hah
Hee hee hee
Hoh hoh hoh.....we laughed!
nonsense12
Twiddle dwiddle dwiddle
Dwiddle twiddle twiddle
Behold the magic of NoMoGrid unleashed!
The cows munched the beef
The hens gulped the chicken
The fishes needing a taste
Swam in the frying pan!
And all the men with empty bellies hissed,
What happened to all that beef?
Where is all that chicken?
What happened to the fishes
We would fry in the pan?
Twiddle dwiddle dwiddle
Dwiddle twiddlw twiddle
Hail the magic of NoMoGrid
For what mystery magics it will breed!
Dwiddle twiddle twiddle
Behold the magic of NoMoGrid unleashed!
The cows munched the beef
The hens gulped the chicken
The fishes needing a taste
Swam in the frying pan!
And all the men with empty bellies hissed,
What happened to all that beef?
Where is all that chicken?
What happened to the fishes
We would fry in the pan?
Twiddle dwiddle dwiddle
Dwiddle twiddlw twiddle
Hail the magic of NoMoGrid
For what mystery magics it will breed!
nonsense11
The streets are crowded-so crowded
that nothing really moves an inch,
Luxury cars to three wheelers
White collars to blue collars-all feel the pinch.
The four wheelers blame the three wheelers
The three wheelers blame the four wheelers
The two wheelers blames anyone with wheels greater than two
The hapless pedestrians blame anyone with wheels to do.
But not all-not all in the street are full of scorn
For the clever Mr. Tintuntyre
Who climbs the poles and glides along the wires
Has nothing to do with the wheel or horn!
that nothing really moves an inch,
Luxury cars to three wheelers
White collars to blue collars-all feel the pinch.
The four wheelers blame the three wheelers
The three wheelers blame the four wheelers
The two wheelers blames anyone with wheels greater than two
The hapless pedestrians blame anyone with wheels to do.
But not all-not all in the street are full of scorn
For the clever Mr. Tintuntyre
Who climbs the poles and glides along the wires
Has nothing to do with the wheel or horn!
nonsense10
I sat down to write an epic poem
For to the people The Great Poet I am
A word or two and Damn.....the pen runs dry
I grab a pencil and a line or two I try
But Damn.....the lead breaks into two
I take laptop to and finally I am into
Weaving a verse not heard in a decade
But Damn..... the battery blinks, the power is dead.
Sorry, there's no writing an epic poem today,
And what an epic that would have been to say !
For to the people The Great Poet I am
A word or two and Damn.....the pen runs dry
I grab a pencil and a line or two I try
But Damn.....the lead breaks into two
I take laptop to and finally I am into
Weaving a verse not heard in a decade
But Damn..... the battery blinks, the power is dead.
Sorry, there's no writing an epic poem today,
And what an epic that would have been to say !
nonsense9
A foreign traveller (do not ask who)
Said, 'In your city airports ther are two,
On my arrival, I landed in one,further,
On my departure I took off from another.'
Alas, the traveller did not know
The city as you and I do.
Airport there is one, the best we can say
It changes names every other day!
Said, 'In your city airports ther are two,
On my arrival, I landed in one,further,
On my departure I took off from another.'
Alas, the traveller did not know
The city as you and I do.
Airport there is one, the best we can say
It changes names every other day!
Nonsense6
Bangladesh goes digital
And the electric supply too!
Zero one zero one zero one zero
Off on off on off on off-all day through.
When the fan goes off, I sweat and sweat
And all my clothes get filthy wet.
When the fan is on I strip and strip
And hang my clothes to dry in the breeze.
And the electric supply too!
Zero one zero one zero one zero
Off on off on off on off-all day through.
When the fan goes off, I sweat and sweat
And all my clothes get filthy wet.
When the fan is on I strip and strip
And hang my clothes to dry in the breeze.
nonsense2
The ant said to the elephant,
One day I will be as big as you
Stampede on the ground as you do
And break the trees with my trunk just as you can.
The elephant said to the little ant,
You can be whatever I am
You can do whatever I can
Just make sure you are wearing the right underpants!
One day I will be as big as you
Stampede on the ground as you do
And break the trees with my trunk just as you can.
The elephant said to the little ant,
You can be whatever I am
You can do whatever I can
Just make sure you are wearing the right underpants!
Nonsense3
What's in a chocolate box full of chocolates?
Chocolates and the wrappers of course.
What's in a chocolate box half full of chocolates?
Chocolates wrappers and a vacant hole of course.
What's in a chocolate box with no chocolates?
Well then it is not a chocolate box.
Chocolates and the wrappers of course.
What's in a chocolate box half full of chocolates?
Chocolates wrappers and a vacant hole of course.
What's in a chocolate box with no chocolates?
Well then it is not a chocolate box.
nonsense4
The analog clock said to the digital clock,
You got no hands.Have they been chopped off?
No, I need no hands to tell the time
I use 0s and 1s to draw my lines.
Well, when its five in the morning how do you tell the time
Or when it is six or seven or eight or nine?
The same way as you tell the night and day
When your long hands cross each other midway!
You got no hands.Have they been chopped off?
No, I need no hands to tell the time
I use 0s and 1s to draw my lines.
Well, when its five in the morning how do you tell the time
Or when it is six or seven or eight or nine?
The same way as you tell the night and day
When your long hands cross each other midway!
nonsense 1
What do you do when
it rains without a cloud in the clear sky?
Open your umbrella and
hold your head two feet high.
it rains without a cloud in the clear sky?
Open your umbrella and
hold your head two feet high.
Nonsense5
Sometimes I get nasty headaches
And only a little pain it takes
To get me started to complain
And then more i feel the pain.
I fear my hair will recede
I fear my blood pressure will increase
My intellecutal works will never proceed
My life will be cut short every minute.
The depression creeps on me bit by bit!
I try to feel where the nasty pain is.
Is it in my head? Is it beacuse i think it is?
Is it in the sides, at the centre or deeep inside?
Is it in my thoughts my fear intertwined?
Sometimes I violently shake myself off
Hoping my stubborn headache would fall off
If only I could locate the pain in my head
I would grab it hard and kill it dead!
And only a little pain it takes
To get me started to complain
And then more i feel the pain.
I fear my hair will recede
I fear my blood pressure will increase
My intellecutal works will never proceed
My life will be cut short every minute.
The depression creeps on me bit by bit!
I try to feel where the nasty pain is.
Is it in my head? Is it beacuse i think it is?
Is it in the sides, at the centre or deeep inside?
Is it in my thoughts my fear intertwined?
Sometimes I violently shake myself off
Hoping my stubborn headache would fall off
If only I could locate the pain in my head
I would grab it hard and kill it dead!
Liberty Equality Fraternity
Hopeless and ugly he looks
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
Poems, written by many a poet
Inspired by ideologies of
--------------------------Liberty
---------------------------------Equality
-----------------------------------------Fraternity,
I read in the idle hours in my
office on the 13th floor
of a luxurious
tower.
The tower, though built
in affluence of extravaganzas
of the lords: marble floors, rooftop swimming pool,
priceless paintings etc.
overlooks:
A dirty slum
surviving in the harshest of conditions
with stinking water, little sanitation ,
congested space where slaves
swarm like ants thriving on the bestow of the lords
A street
littered with starving beggars
with their ugly rib cages jutting out
of their emaciated bodies
as they beg at the closed doors of the lords
A pavement
thronged by naked orphans with
perhaps no homes or names
who spend the day
rummaging the municipality dustbin
for the thrown away food of the lords.
The tower,
repainted every year and
decorated on gatherings,
has laborers from the nearby slum
working round the year.
Everyday
As I enter my office
I see laborers preparing for work;
but we hardly interact except when
in one particular occasion a labourer
whose name I do not know and who
whistles at work the tune of folk songs ,
in an abrupt act of stupidity , asked me the time
While I was heading for a meeting.
I took a glance at him in awe, told him
the time and was gone!
Life continued in its familiar cycle
----------------Home
---Office-----------------Office
----------------Home
And in the idle hours I read one of the
numerous poems:
Hopeless and ugly he looks
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
Then one day as I was reading
I heard a sudden commotion,
momentarily the people
Went mad and
ran in dismay.
I feared of a fire breaking out
But the guard assured me that matters were not
so serious and only a labourer whose name he did not
know and who was engaged in repainting the tower
had slipped off the ladder from the 13th floor.
That evening I gathered from the papers that
The labourer whose name I did not know and who had
Slipped off the ladder from the 13th floor
was the same labourer who whistled at work
and who had so defiantly asked
me the time.
I felt sorry for a moment and then
the usual pace of life took over leaving
the matter forgotten amidst
the cycle of
----------------Home
---Office-----------------Office
----------------Home
and in the idle hours I read poetries:
Hopeless and ugly he looks
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
Poems, written by many a poet
Inspired by ideologies of
--------------------------Liberty
---------------------------------Equality
-----------------------------------------Fraternity,
I read in the idle hours in my
office on the 13th floor
of a luxurious
tower.
The tower, though built
in affluence of extravaganzas
of the lords: marble floors, rooftop swimming pool,
priceless paintings etc.
overlooks:
A dirty slum
surviving in the harshest of conditions
with stinking water, little sanitation ,
congested space where slaves
swarm like ants thriving on the bestow of the lords
A street
littered with starving beggars
with their ugly rib cages jutting out
of their emaciated bodies
as they beg at the closed doors of the lords
A pavement
thronged by naked orphans with
perhaps no homes or names
who spend the day
rummaging the municipality dustbin
for the thrown away food of the lords.
The tower,
repainted every year and
decorated on gatherings,
has laborers from the nearby slum
working round the year.
Everyday
As I enter my office
I see laborers preparing for work;
but we hardly interact except when
in one particular occasion a labourer
whose name I do not know and who
whistles at work the tune of folk songs ,
in an abrupt act of stupidity , asked me the time
While I was heading for a meeting.
I took a glance at him in awe, told him
the time and was gone!
Life continued in its familiar cycle
----------------Home
---Office-----------------Office
----------------Home
And in the idle hours I read one of the
numerous poems:
Hopeless and ugly he looks
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
Then one day as I was reading
I heard a sudden commotion,
momentarily the people
Went mad and
ran in dismay.
I feared of a fire breaking out
But the guard assured me that matters were not
so serious and only a labourer whose name he did not
know and who was engaged in repainting the tower
had slipped off the ladder from the 13th floor.
That evening I gathered from the papers that
The labourer whose name I did not know and who had
Slipped off the ladder from the 13th floor
was the same labourer who whistled at work
and who had so defiantly asked
me the time.
I felt sorry for a moment and then
the usual pace of life took over leaving
the matter forgotten amidst
the cycle of
----------------Home
---Office-----------------Office
----------------Home
and in the idle hours I read poetries:
Hopeless and ugly he looks
As he lays
-----------Brick
----------------On
-------------------Brick
-----------Stone
----------------On
-------------------Stone
To build the dreams of the lords.
First words
It was the time of the murky skies of the monsoon. The clouds were weeping profusely to alleviate their unknown sorrow. Mangoes fell off every now and then from the trees with a thud, and the village women who dried their pickles outdoor had to frequently take their things in.
He had returned home on a vacation after a long time. In fact the village was hardly his home anymore; he was now what one would call a top-to-toe corporate manager leading a busy city life with meetings, assignments and a tightly packed 9-to-5 corporate schedule.
He was always shy and introvert and had never been able to speak the word of his heart to his next door sweetheart at the village. Whenever they would cross each other in their muddy village street, or meet when his mother used to take him to her home , he bowed his head down in shyness. He could look at every place in the world, but could not brave the shyness of looking up at her face.
As is true for an average human being , that the unknown is always intriguing, she had always been mysterious and wrecked storms in the thoughts of his otherwise calm mind. But life at the city had taught him a lot now. He knew , it was only social to look at a woman and talk politely , and that merely glancing at a woman’s face would not betray his dormant emotions.
This monsoon the rain was pouring in torrents harder than ever. Every now and then, here and there was a thud of mangoes falling off and the broken twigs, flying leaves, wet and clayey earth and the waving paddies soaked in the water together created a smell that was so intimate to his heart.
He was at the village pool when the rain had started. His grandfather had built a bridge across the pool when he was the upozila chairman. As the clouds got dense engulfing the meek sun and casting a dark shadow over the entire village heralding the sign of a seasonal storm, he decided to bathe in the rain.
Just as the waters started drizzling, there arrived ‘she’ with her mother. They were apparently returning from the village market. Her mother had always adored him and with a feminine affection she enquired about his well being holding his chin with her delicate palm. Soon the rains got thick and her mother abruptly ran home saying she would have to take indoors the pickles that were being dried.
He was all of a sudden left alone with ‘her’. At first the long nursed and cursed unease and shyness of his seemed to take over, but then his ‘corporate self ‘got the better of him. He raised his head high, subdued the thumping heart beat, looked straight enough at her face and meekly asked, ‘How have you been?’
She replied , ‘Fine, but what took you so long to speak?’
He had returned home on a vacation after a long time. In fact the village was hardly his home anymore; he was now what one would call a top-to-toe corporate manager leading a busy city life with meetings, assignments and a tightly packed 9-to-5 corporate schedule.
He was always shy and introvert and had never been able to speak the word of his heart to his next door sweetheart at the village. Whenever they would cross each other in their muddy village street, or meet when his mother used to take him to her home , he bowed his head down in shyness. He could look at every place in the world, but could not brave the shyness of looking up at her face.
As is true for an average human being , that the unknown is always intriguing, she had always been mysterious and wrecked storms in the thoughts of his otherwise calm mind. But life at the city had taught him a lot now. He knew , it was only social to look at a woman and talk politely , and that merely glancing at a woman’s face would not betray his dormant emotions.
This monsoon the rain was pouring in torrents harder than ever. Every now and then, here and there was a thud of mangoes falling off and the broken twigs, flying leaves, wet and clayey earth and the waving paddies soaked in the water together created a smell that was so intimate to his heart.
He was at the village pool when the rain had started. His grandfather had built a bridge across the pool when he was the upozila chairman. As the clouds got dense engulfing the meek sun and casting a dark shadow over the entire village heralding the sign of a seasonal storm, he decided to bathe in the rain.
Just as the waters started drizzling, there arrived ‘she’ with her mother. They were apparently returning from the village market. Her mother had always adored him and with a feminine affection she enquired about his well being holding his chin with her delicate palm. Soon the rains got thick and her mother abruptly ran home saying she would have to take indoors the pickles that were being dried.
He was all of a sudden left alone with ‘her’. At first the long nursed and cursed unease and shyness of his seemed to take over, but then his ‘corporate self ‘got the better of him. He raised his head high, subdued the thumping heart beat, looked straight enough at her face and meekly asked, ‘How have you been?’
She replied , ‘Fine, but what took you so long to speak?’
LAME ANT.......
In a colony of ants
there lived a lame ant
who could do no work
and when the other ants
worked he stole
their food.
The other ants in the colony
as one would expect
spent the day working;
and
on returning home
after the day was done
when they found their food missing
or half eaten
they all blamed the lame ant
Some ants did express an element of
doubt and pity
or pity and doubt
but when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the ants surely agreed.
An outcast the lame ant became
and upon him the other ants
looked down with scorn;
they despised him for
what he was and doomed
him for what he did.
But the lame ant apparently
was not bothered for food kept on
being stolen in the colony
just as before
The wise ants who ate the most food by far
(and therefore had the most to loose)
were soon fed up and opined that the
lame ant must be banished.
Before long the lame ant was banished(i.e killed,
for the wise ants do not operate by the
connotation of words)
The female ants did have a
soft corner for the lame ant and
"a poor thing" they cried
but when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the ants surely agreed.
But alas food went on being stolen just as before!!
At first the ants ignored ,’may be we ate a lot', they said,
‘you know how addictive those sugar cubes are, they can
make you forget a lot of things';
but they soon overcame that whim
and from then on whenever
food was stolen they
all blamed lame ant's ghost.
The young ants did utter the words
evidence and clue but
when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the other ants surely agreed.
They seemed to understand why
it was the lame ant’s ghost indeed.
In contrast
form heaven or hell
the lame ant's ghost laughed
to see how in the end
they were all the same ant!
In a colony of ants
there lived a lame ant
who could do no work
and when the other ants
worked he stole
their food.
The other ants in the colony
as one would expect
spent the day working;
and
on returning home
after the day was done
when they found their food missing
or half eaten
they all blamed the lame ant
Some ants did express an element of
doubt and pity
or pity and doubt
but when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the ants surely agreed.
An outcast the lame ant became
and upon him the other ants
looked down with scorn;
they despised him for
what he was and doomed
him for what he did.
But the lame ant apparently
was not bothered for food kept on
being stolen in the colony
just as before
The wise ants who ate the most food by far
(and therefore had the most to loose)
were soon fed up and opined that the
lame ant must be banished.
Before long the lame ant was banished(i.e killed,
for the wise ants do not operate by the
connotation of words)
The female ants did have a
soft corner for the lame ant and
"a poor thing" they cried
but when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the ants surely agreed.
But alas food went on being stolen just as before!!
At first the ants ignored ,’may be we ate a lot', they said,
‘you know how addictive those sugar cubes are, they can
make you forget a lot of things';
but they soon overcame that whim
and from then on whenever
food was stolen they
all blamed lame ant's ghost.
The young ants did utter the words
evidence and clue but
when the wise ants whined
Who else so evil?
Who else so vile?...all
the other ants surely agreed.
They seemed to understand why
it was the lame ant’s ghost indeed.
In contrast
form heaven or hell
the lame ant's ghost laughed
to see how in the end
they were all the same ant!
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