2:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Copyright © 2016 HALL OF POETS All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions coordinator”, at email address below. hallofpoets@gmail.com Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within. The magazine is not for sale and can be downloaded from HALL OF POETS community on Google Plus or HALL OF POETS page on Facebook, or asked for a copy by writing to us on: hallofpoets@gmail.com Editor-in-Chief: Dr. PRERNA SINGLA Joint - Editor & Magazine Designer: PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA Logo Design: DAIPAYAN NAIR Cover Photo : Dr. SANTOSH BAKAYA PUBLISHER: HALL OF POETS ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016 ............................................................................................................................................................................ SPONSORERS
LITERARY PARTNERS/COLLABORATORS BUSINESS ASSOCIATES
**DISCLAIMER** ............................................................................................................................................................................................ HALL OF POETS Digital magazine is the property of Hall Of Poets community on Google Plus and is protected by the International Copyright Laws. The poems/articles are published under the name with which the poet/writer is active in the Hall Of Poets online community. The publisher (Hall Of Poets), authors and contributors reserve their rights with regard to copyright of their work. Although Hall Of Poets considers its source reliable and verifies as much data as possible, Hall Of Poets makes no representations, warranties, express or implied, as to the completeness, accuracy, or appropriateness of the information, data, advertisements, graphics, authenticity of profiles/poems/articles, copyright infringement or responsibility of any other content contained in any Hall Of Poets digital magazine or webpage, including but not limited to the Hall Of Poets online community, blogs, and other email newsletters, and any other social networking platform produced, owned or managed by Hall Of Poets. Each member/artist himself/herself takes full responsibility of the authenticity of their work/ profiles. Content produced by Hall Of Poets may from time to time include technical inaccuracies or typographical errors. Graphics used are under fair use policy and not for commercial purposes; the artist/designer claims no right to own the graphics that are taken from the internet. The content of each poem/article is the sole expression/opinion of its writer/author and not necessarily that of the publisher. No warranties or guarantees are expressed or implied by the publisher’s choice to include any of the content in this volume. Neither the publisher not the individual author(s) shall be liable for any physical, psychological, emotional, financial or commercial damages, including, but not limited to special, incidental, consequential or other damages. Readers are responsible for their own choices, actions and results. The advertisements/ advertised banners on the Hall Of Poets magazine have no influence on editorial content or presentation. The posting of particular banners does not imply endorsement of the product (so) or the company selling them by Hall Of Poets magazine or its editors. Hall Of Poets magazine may contain links to websites operated by other parties. These links are provided purely for promotional purpose. Such links do not imply Hall Of Poets magazine’s endorsement of material on any other site and Hall Of Poets magazine disclaims all liability with regard to your access of such linked websites. In case of dispute, Jurisdiction of Gurgaon (Haryana), India applies.
3:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
HOLI DHAMAKA! Exciting packages for your Book launch, Product launch, Literary conferences, starting at Rs. 55,000/- Only. HOLI SPECIAL PACKAGE STARTING AT Rs. 87,000/- Including buffet.
CONTACT: +91-9910829529, +91- 9818666201
4:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
CONTENTS AUTHOR/POET
TITLE
PAGE
SCRIBS FROM THE EDITOR’S TABLE DR. PRERNA SINGLA
GHAZAL (HINDI)
08
PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA
THE GOLDEN CAGE
10
THE FREE FLOW RUPAM GOSWAMI
JATAYU'S LOST WINGS
13
CHITKALA MULYE
LITTLE HEART
15 16
CAROLINE NAZARENO
THE FLIGHT TOWARDS FREEDOM MOIRA BLUES GODIVA'S REFRAIN
19
BELLS
21
MOMENTS
22
ANANDITA BOSE:
18
PRESS RELEASE
KIBATEK PLANS THEIR 40TH FEST 24 IN DUBAI
RAVINDER KAUR
A PRISONER
28
ANONYMOUSLY
29
भीख के कटो े र्ें र्जूबू ी को भ क ...
31
“इंद ु र क ं ी वर्मा”
5:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
र्मं र्झ ु े ड लगतम है . . . .
33
PRESS RELEASE
UNIONE MONDIALE DEI POETI STARTS ITS FIGHT FOR WORLD PEACE
35
SUMANA BHATTACHARJEE
UST A CANDLE
38
FERNANDO JOSÉ MARTINEZ ALDERETE
DARK BLIZZARD
39
WALTZ OF WINTER
40
COMPOSERS OF THE WIND
42 43
SARATHI LOKE NATH
WHEN OUR STORIES BLED TOGETHER WWBCPOETS POETIC REVOLUTION FOR WOMEN EMPOWERMENT BIBLIOPHILE
LOPAMUDRA MISHRA
THE WOODEN BENCH
47
COMPANION
48
“ASK ME NOT..!”
49
“WASHED ASHORE..!”
50
GRASS
52
ANCA MIHAELA BRUMA
PRESS RELEASE
SHAHARYAAR
ISHITA SINGH
MONOCHROME LOVE
45
46
53
PATRICK MICHAEL
TIMING AND ADJUSTMENTS
55
INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR
OUR GUEST – Dr. SANTOSH BAKAYA
58
THE GUWAHATIAN Christine A Perry Dr. Sonia Gupta
UPDATES '' OPPOSITES FOREVER” VALENTINE DAY HAS COME
64 65 66
6:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
JHIMLY JOLLY
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
“HER EYES WERE FIREFLIES”
68
“KISSES ARE FLOWERS OF LOVE IN BLOOM”
69
THE WHEELS OF JUSTICE TURN SLOWLY
70
ये चल हम कैसम ट्रे न्ड है
71
WAITING FOR HER
72
VIKAS SINGH
COMMON SUPERMAN
73
SHIVAJI PANDHARE
SURVIVOR GIRL
75
JED WOLFE
YOU ARE NOT HERE
78
AJAY VYAS
GUIDELINES FOR SUBMISSION
81
7:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Scribs From The Editor’s Table...
8:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
वो जख्र् कमगज़ प जह ां अब शमश न है, वह ां कभी मक न थ दिल में गर जगह होती, तो जीन बड आस न थ । कर दिय गैर उसने मझ ु े बबन अल्फ ज़ों के, जजसके ब्य न-ए-इश्क पर हमको बड गुम न थ । है जजि हव ओां की उसी अांि ज में छू गज ु रन , जजनकी उस अि पर ये दिल ब गब न थ । बेक र तकल्लफ ु है ये जजांिगी क जीन भी, मैं तो इजश्कय मौत के जलव़ों से अांज न थ । ह र कर बेखुिी में डूबत हूूँ इस तरह गुल जजस तरह ब ि-ए-सब में भी बेज न थ । मस ु लसल है जजांिगी क क रव ूँ ये प्रेरण , तू समझ कोई झ़ोंक इक पल तेर महम न थ । कुरे ि कर बबखेर दिए वो जख्म मैंने क गज पर, जजन के हर ििद से हर शख्स अांज न थ । © ड . प्रेरण ससांगल , 2016
9:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Dr. PRERNA SINGLA Is a dental surgeon/ entrepreneur/ writer/ blogger who is the Founder of Hall of Poets & working as the Editor-inChief of Hall of Poets ezine, Editor-in-chief of Impact005. She is also the Creative Director of a banquet firm based in Gurgaon. She is also the Deputy Secretary to the Presidency (Unione Mondiale dei Poeti - UMP, Recco Italy) as well as the Vice President of India for World Union of Poets – UMP. Apart from that, she does literary projects, her recent project in the name of Roses & Rhymes, is an Amazon’s Best seller. She is also a writer, Reviewer and much more.
10:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
THE GOLDEN CAGE
"With the wings like tethered & torn meat I attempt to fly from the sky of my Golden Cage To the skies Albino draped I shall hit upon the golden bars, With all the courage I could amass Wound & bleed until the fetters I break.” And determined the wounded bird Tried and tried and tried Neither effort nor courage ebbed And yet the feeble bird died.
© PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2016
Interpretation The poet Pulkit Mohan Singla, in his poetry “The Golden Cage”, reflects upon the situations in which people are so trapped and bound in the cages of their day to day lives, their relations, their homes that even if they wish to fly, even if they make efforts to fly, they just cannot break away. The Golden cage here reflects the life that is self sufficient yet restricted. And the bird is the person who seeks freedom and never attains until death, which is the ultimate freedom from a caged luxurious life.
11:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA Is a Master’s in Interior Designing and event management, an entrepreneur, poet, writer, reviewer who is working as the Owner of an events & Banquet firm, Owner & Joint Editor of Hall Of Poets global ezine, President of Global Promotions for Unione Mondiale dei Poeti, Italy, and Vice President of Haryana for Unione Mondiale dei Poeti, Italy. He is also the coauthor of many anthologies.
12:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
The Free Flow...
13:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
JATAYU'S LOST WINGS Preambles of kings when split into dictums of demons then tongues taste lemon sour. Mind of a man when turns into an ominous shop then may gods regret own faults! How deceptive can Time be! Or is Time an immortal scapegoat and Man the deceptive evil? Time is merely a variable of deeds man performs or mortal Time would have been. She failed... Failed to identify the beast in the flesh of a priest. She failed. What a pity! How righteousness trapped her in a pool of else's evil desires: she failed to know. She failed to follow. In his flying chariot, she wept. What else could a woman do? Life is one; trust is watery, changes forms like gods, yet remains divine. A pair of wings then flapped, flapped hard to rescue the trapped, The Devil then sliced Through air, with might; the wings lost their blood, dripping from airy flesh, to Earth that bore womb of her daughter in pain.
14:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
And Mother? Mother bore another burden. Jatayu lost his wings, Jatayu fought, did bleed, Jatayu carried pride of men, Jatayu, the days need you, Jatayu…, Where are you? © Rupam Goswami, 2016 Guwahati, India
Interpretation Jatayu is a mythical bird in the Indian epic, Ramayana. He was supposedly the ‘king of vultures’. He lost his wings while trying to save Rama’s wife, Sita from the hold of Ravana, the Devil when the latter was taking her through the skies.
RUPAM GOSWAMI Rupam Goswami is a poet from North-East India, who loves to write on Indian backdrops. He is the author of the book, ‘The Moustached Poet’, and one of the co-authors in ‘Purple Hues’ and ‘I am a Woman’. He is one of the editors of the anthology ‘Roses and Rhymes’. He works for pleasure as the Editor of an international e-magazine, Guwahatian.
15:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
LITTLE HEART
My little young heavy heart, Learnt to walk without a dart; Leaving easily the held hand, Learnt without a magic wand; Beating in its own odd rhythm, Not melting, now fair and firm; Opening its experienced eyes, Unleashing the support of ties; Not worried about truth and lies, Thumping happy, higher it flies; Getting harder every night and day, Stronger, bigger, merrier and gay!
Š Chitkala Mulye (24 October 2015)
Interpretation There has always been a brain heart fight with everyone. As a result we get more practical and learn to be strong. The poem narrates how an innocent heart i.e. an innocent person changes and becomes stronger mature and learns to be happy by being self dependent.
.
16:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
THE FLIGHT TOWARDS FREEDOM
The brown little spotted deer tried, To break the chains with which she was tied;
The curious eyes peeped in and out, Making no noise so no one would doubt;
Now free was she, she gracefully wandered; It revealed her beauty, but why she wondered;
She loved the new world it bought her peace, She got the content that no one could cease;
She ran with the wind’s pace and power; And then confident she was and stronger;
In her rhythm she walked with her enchanting eyes; She tricked the enemies and hypnotized the spies;
It was just not the happiness that she got; She got new wings and freedom she sought ; She spread them and turned into a bird; High she flew and disappeared! Where? Everyone wondered!! Š Chitkala Mulye, 30 June 2015
17:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Interpretation The deer symbolizes a woman who is bound by taboos and is restricted by societal burdens. When she shrugs of all the norms that cage her she emerges powerful, confident more beautiful and more herself. The freedom of thought is more valuable. The poem is a struggle story with herself and with the society as well .Enemies and spies symbolize the system or traditions or everyone who ties her and stunts her growth.
CHITKALA MULYE BE Mechanical, MBA Human Resources. She has to her credit the following achievements: Best poem award in “Sahakar 2009” magazine. And 1750 followers for my blog “The words untrammelled” link http://chitkaladitosh.com/ Words flow when heart is brimmed with emotions and then I get drenched in them.
18:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
MOIRA BLUES (A tribute to all survivors of different wars)
I am in the train You are there too Remembering faces and feces Of radical rules and mythical truces I choose Paris for the lovelock But I unlock the satiric slaughters of truth Of freedom, of adequacy, of equality Between the ancestors, sons and daughters, mankind and me Day after day, I look and listen Until I feel my bones clashing each nerve and tissue When I see mothers with their newborns leaving their homes Shaking and crying No milk no food no water no shelter Hail holy bombs, guns and ruthless death-makers, spare us! The sick meets the merciless magnitude at the unholy hour Again and again capsizing creepy stormy holograms over halos From back-to-back shootouts, racial tensions, and nuclear talks I read the times with its timely starter Hubris equals the rainbow marriage in the land of the free They call it victory and history It is like a tournament in my own stadia Castles of peace flaws in stampede and shattering word wars That’s why the mouth speaks of narcosis The mind seeks savannah of diversity in euphonic interface All for love, all for one soul As genuine bond of healing willing hearts To try, try, yes, retry To dream and to be The unwounded dawn for all ŠCaroline nazareno-gabis a.k.a. Ceri naz/ February 2016
19:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
GODIVA'S REFRAIN Do you still remember? The resounding ballads Of getting up Wave the mettle in sync To be the one The better one Do you still remember? The fading faces of time Underneath The swallowing perfection Off-the-wall Unveiling Sapphire kingdoms But no one Returns Do you still remember? The time you fell From the death bed Of surrenders Yet again and again Your knees flex and stretch To sketch another Clear sky Š Caroline nazareno-gabis a.k.a. Ceri naz/ 2014
20:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
CAROLINE NAZARENO Caroline Nazareno-Gabis a.k.a. Ceri Naz, a native of Anda, Pangasinan, known as a ‘poet of peace and friendship’, is a multiawarded poet, editor, journalist, public speaker, linguist, educator, peace and women’s advocate. She was chosen as World Poetry International Director to Philippines by the World Poetry Canada and International, and now one of the board of directors of GALAKTIKE POETIKE ‘’ATUNIS’’. She is also a featured member of Universal Peace Federation, Asia Pacific Writers and Translators (APWT), Association for Women’s rights in Development (AWID) and World Poetry Canada and International.
She won several International Prizes including ‘’Writers International Network Society-Canada ‘’Amazing Poet 2015’’, The Frang Bardhi Literary Prize 2014 (Albania), the sair-gazeteci or Poet Journalist Award 2014 (Tuzla, Istanbul, Turkey) and World Poetry Empowered Poet 2013 (Vancouver, Canada). Her poetry have been published in various international anthologies: For Love of Leelah ( USA ), WOMEN IN WAR ( Africa ), Muse for World Peace Anthology ( Nigeria), Greek Fire Anthology ( UK), IMMAGINE & POESIA e-book (Torino, Italy) World Poetry Yearbook 2013 and 2014 ( IPTRC-China), Fascinating Panoptic Septon (Singapore), Gumbo For the Soul ( USA ), Peace Poems ( USA and Canada ) I Am A Woman, a tribute to Kamala Das ( India ), Women of The World ( Canada), Just For You My Love Anthology ( India ), The Art of Being Human Vol. 15: WHO AM I, Vol.14: Insomnia, Vol.13: Lucky 13 ( Switzerland, Canada and Romania), Siir Antolojisi ( Turkey), Who Shall I Make My Wife ( Lagos, Nigeria) and more. She is also the editor of THE THREE HIT COMBO, first book of the famous Philippine Mental Assassin, Justin Piñon. Beyond her literary work, Caroline has created the 'The Ceri Naz Literary Award' through which she supports selected journalism students at the Pangasinan State University-Bayambang Campus.
21:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
BELLS
Bells in tunes of Religious beliefs In places worshipped As holy Met Bells of free spirits Playing tunes in air Invisible yet sweeter Than seen rites But The later wanted to last For few minutes since Perceived.
ŠAnindita Bose / Dec 2015)
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
22:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
MOMENTS
One drop of whiskey On the floor beside an Empty bottle Bursted balloons and Torn coloured papers From cards Scattered clothes and Tiny plastic balls in Shades of red A room not anymore Decorated but a pair Of hands sorting Things that would Vanish like the bullet Whose mark was seen In the left wall of the Room.
ŠAnindita Bose / Jan 2016)
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
23:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
ANANDITA BOSE: Born and brought up in Kolkata, Anindita Bose is inspired by the zeal of her city of joy. She has an interest in psychology which she believes has connected her closely to universal ideas and human emotions. She believes words have immense possibilities to create life out of nothing. "Let's decode the labyrinth of life" is what she thinks when words form stories in her conscious and subconscious minds. Recently her poems and stories got published in Tuck Magazine, eFiction India Magazine and Indiaree Magazine. Her poems are part of the Anthology: 'Roses & Rhymes: Poetry on Love & Life'. She is a working professional and when not writing she is actively involved in activities of a poetry group named ‘Rhythm Divine’ of which she is a co-founder. Apart from poetry writing she is also into short story writing, painting, photography and travelling.
24:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
KIBATEK PLANS THEIR 40TH FEST IN DUBAI Press release By Pulkit Mohan Singla , President Global Promotions, Unione Mondiale dei Poeti, Joint- Editor Hall Of Poets Global Ezine. & Anca Mihaela Bruma, Co-President Romania, Unione Mondiale dei Poeti, Project Coordinator KIBATEK 40.
K
IBATEK (The Turkish Literary Foundation established in 1999 in Turkey) plans its 40th Literary Festival this year in Dubai, from 1st till 4th June 2016.
This Global Poetry Festival will be organized by a Dubai based event company called: Zing-Events, with Zainab Malik (left) as President and Aydin Momtaz (Right) as Vice President of this event company. On the 12th March 2016, KIBATEK management appointed officially Miss Anca Mihaela Bruma (Right) as a Projector Coordinator for this new festival, under the name: KIBATEK 40 – Global Festival of Poetry. Educator, lecturer, performance poet, eclectic thinker, mentor with staunch multi-cultural mindset and entrepreneurial attitude, Anca Mihaela Bruma considers herself a global citizen, having lived in four continents. Anca has already participated at two festivals organized by KIBATEK, one at Tuzla/Istanbul - Turkey (6th-10Th November 2014 – KIBATEK 34) and the other one in Taranto/Bari – Italy (18th – 21st February 2016 – KIBATEK 39), in both festivals she was invited as an awarded poet. This time, Anca has accepted the challenge to act as a brand Ambassador in Dubai for KIBATEK Literary Foundation, being already in tune with the foundation’s legacy and literary mission as well the ideas to expand
25:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
their literary influence on different continents. “I was first time invited to participate at KIBATEK 34 in Tuzla/Istanbul, November 2014 and what truly impressed me was the multi-faceted kaleidoscope of artists, the collective festive mood arising from knowing we are all part of the creation of an atmosphere where through the movement of the poetic word, we became a sign of cohesion, a choir of the world’s voices” says Anca Mihaela Bruma.
Some goals of KIBATEK 40 – Global Poetry Festival are: to celebrate diverse poetic voices, by promoting poetry excellence uniting poets from around Globe, celebrating the diversity of humanity, to promote poetry as a vibrant and vital form of art, promote learning through the written form of poetry. In addition to these, the Festival aims to enrich and enliven the poetry community by fostering creative growth and Collaboration between local poetry community and international poets, editors and publishers.
The KIBATEK 40 will bring awarded poets from over 15 countries and its program will include workshops, readings, craft talks and other literary activities.
KIBATEK is an acronym which stands for: Cyprus – Irak Balkans – Eurasia Turkish Literary Foundation). It was established in the year 1999, by the volunteered participation of poets, scholars and artists from 12 countries and it has been focusing on cultural, literature and translation issues. Dr. Mevlüt Kaplan, a teacher, poet, writer from Turkey with more than 500 books published, is the Chairman of KIBATEK Literary Foundation.
DR. MEVLÜT KAPLAN
26:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Dr. FEYYAZ SAĞLAM (Left) LEYLA ISIK (Right)
Dr. Feyyaz Sağlam, a mentor and researcher of Turkish literary works, is the Founder and President of KIBATEK Foundation, Publisher of KIBATEK Bulletin, and is known and praised for his remarkable contributions to the Literature of the Turkish world. He has been awarded and honoured for his works and his works have been translated into many languages. Leyla Isik, a poet, artist, Vice President of KIBATEK Foundation, International Project Coordinator for the Foundation, not only translates but also promotes Turkish poetry globally. She has received many International Awards and honours for her works. As an artist and a writer she has also contributed to many literary projects and anthologies. The last KIBATEK Festival - KIBATEK 39 was organized in Taranto / Italy, under the name: KIBATEK 39 – Global Festival of ART and Poetry, from 18th till 21st February 2016 in collaboration with Pablo Neruda Cultural Association from Italy. The Italian team is formed from: Prof. Saverio Sinopoli as President, Prof. Maria Miraglia as Literary Director, Massimiliano Raso - ART Director, Ariel Signorelli - Association Secretary and Rosalba de Giorgi – TV Presenter.
ORGANISING TEAM OF KIBATEK 39
“KIBATEK 40 Festival focuses on the “language” of brotherhood and solidarity, an international movement of poets and artists, seeking transformation of a collective consciousness towards a more fraternal and united, spiritual, dignified and engaged
27:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
humanity in the acts. This Global Poetry Festival creates space for multicultural and multidisciplinary integration of Poetry and Art, promoting the voice of poetry as well other forms of art, as an energy that joins and fructifies in the renewal of the collective soul, opening gates for a new spring of life”, says Anca Mihaela Bruma, the Dubai Project Coordinator for KIBATEK 40 – Global Festival of Poetry.
Picture Courtesy: Anca Mihaela Bruma.
28:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
A PRISONER The day again ended its glory, And ended the night its fury. Igniting the questions in my mind, Left bound to thoughts, I hide. Making myself cold, all the more, Where’s the sea, where’s the shore. I hear many things, I just can’t ignore. The windows are naked, The curtains are gone. Temptations revolt, Stirring instant turmoil. What kept me so long? From loving you oh Knight? Only a curse, That I’ll die soon enough. Knowing the truth, Yet I understood, Love is all, I needed after all. A glimpse of your face, My reward after death. A wish in disguise, Hiding my plight. Death rose in cloak, Waking me that night. You my moment, Moment of life. What else I could, Wish in this life. Even if death do us apart, I’ll live-in that moment, And for me it’s a lifetime. © Ravinder Kaur, 28-01-16
Interpretation: I was inspired by, “The Lady Of Shallot”, by Alfred Tennyson. In this poem, the speaker says that throughout days and nights , the thoughts of love ignite as if fire, evoking restlessness in her mind, she finds herself utterly confused, directionless(where’s the sea, where’s the shore), her heart is full of voices and she cannot ignore every little voice. The windows are naked now, which suggest that she is opening up her mind, wading off all the things that were blindfolding her beliefs. Although, she knows clearly that love would only bring death to her, the temptation to fall in love still lingers and her inner self revolts, saying that its love she needed after all. Only the glimpse of the knight she is in love with is enough for her to die peacefully. And what else she could want more in this life, just to fall in love and that moment in her view is a lifetime for HER.
29:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
ANONYMOUSLY! You come into my thoughts, In dreams and my sighs, Just like always...Anonymously! In perfect days and those nights, In teary smiles and hearty cries, Just like always...Anonymously! Your mention, As a stranger handsome, In love with me...Anonymously! In stormy waves, In calmness cold, In my heart, in my soul...Anonymously! Like a thought, Like a memory, Like a fragrance sweet...Anonymously! Rusted mind, continues to walk, Down that path, You and Me...Anonymously!
Curling of dreams in eyes so deep, Dancing you, dancing me, In that rain last night...Anonymously! I have been there lately, On your mind, in your dream, Then why do you follow me...Anonymously! Just come to me, Of your mind just speak, Just don’t remain anymore...Anonymously! © Ravinder Kaur , 30-01-2016
30:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Interpretation: In this poem, the speaker talks about the anonymous person who follows her, everywhere into her dreams, thoughts, sighs, who smiles in her smiles but still anonymous to her. She talks about her memories where she finds him dancing with her in the rain and requests him not to remain anonymous any more but to approach her and speak what’s on his mind.
RAVINDER KAUR A housewife, mother of two, passionate about writing emotions in words, Ravinder Kaur has a bachelor degree in English (major).She writes both in Hindi and English. Well a beginner, she calls herself, she enjoys writing poems and short stories and has two blogs; one at blogger (http://susann-frommyheart.blogspot.com) and the other at Wordpress (http://seriouslycomicallife.wordpress.com). She is currently working on her first novel too.
31:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
भीख के कटो े र्ें र्जब ू ू ी को भ क ... भीख के कटोरे में मजूबरू ी को भरकर... ट्रॅ फफक ससग्नल पे ख्व ब़ों को बेच कर... जरूरत की प्य स बझ ु त बचपन......... नन्हे से जजस्म से करतब दिख कर... जजांिगी की कीमत चक ु त बचपन........ सब ु ह से श म तक पेट को िब ए.. एक रोटी क ख्व ब मन मैं सम ए.. झठ ू न से भख ू समट त बचपन....... बेचन ै ी के बबस्तर पे करवट बिलत ... फूटप थ पे सपनें सज त बचपन...... फटे से कपडो में तन को लपेटे.. चांि ख्व दहश़ों को अपने मन को समेटे... मस् ु कुर हट से खुि को सज त बचपन....... पत्थर के टुकड़ों मैं खखलोने िे खत .. नन्हे से दिल को समझ त बचपन......... सख ु की छ ूँव से बहुत-बहुत िरू ... मजिरू ी की धप ू मैं तपत बचपन.......... कचरे के ढे र से उम्मीि़ों को चन ु त .. ढ बे पर बतदन रगडत बचपन.............
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
32:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
मजबरू ी क बस्त कांधे पर उठ ए... जजांिगी से सबक सीखत बचपन........... गरीबी के आूँगन में ससर को झक ु ए.. चन्ि ससक्क़ों में चप ु के से बबकत बचपन.......... प्य र, त्योह र, खुशी से अांज न.. थोडे से िल ु र को तरसत बचपन........... गगरत , सांभलत , बनत , बबगडत ... इांस नी िररांिो से पीटत बचपन............... खि ु क वजि ू खि ु में सम ए... खुि को रुल त ये कैस बचपन? ? ? ? ? ? ? © इांि ु ररांकी वम द
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
33:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
र्मं र्झ ु े ड लगतम है . . . .
म ां मझ ु े डर लगत है . . . .
बहुत डर लगत है . . . . सरू ज की रौशनी आग सी लगती है . . . .
प नी की बूँि ु े भी तेज ब सी लगती हैं . . . .
म ां हव में भी जहर स घल ु लगत है . . . . म ां मझ ु े छुप ले बहुत डर लगत है . . . . म ां
य ि है वो क ूँच की गुडडय , जो बचपन में टूटी थी . . . . म ां कुछ ऐसे ही आज में टूट गई हूूँ . . . .
मेरी गलती कुछ भी न थी, म ूँ फफर भी खि ु से रूठ गई हूूँ . . . म ूँ
बचपन में स्कूल टीचर की गन्िी नजऱों से डर लगत थ . . . . पडोस के च च के न प क इर ि़ों से डर लगत थ . . . .
म ूँ वो नक् ु कड के लडक़ों की बेवकूफ ब त़ों से डर लगत है . . और अब बोस के वहशी इश ऱों से डर लगत है . . . . म ां मझ ु े छुप ले, बहुत डर लगत है . . . . म ां
तझ ु े य ि है तेरे आूँगन में गचडडय सी फुिक रही थी . . . . ठोकर ख के में जमीन पर गगर पडी थी . . . .
िो बांि ू खून की िे ख के म ूँ तू भी रो पडी थी . . . . म ूँ तूने तो मझ ु े फूल़ों की तरह प ल थ . . . .
उन िररांि़ों क आखखर मैंने क्य बबग ड थ . . . . क्य़ों वो मझ ु े इस तरह मसल के चले गए है . . . . बेििद मेरी रूह को कुचल के चले गए . . . . म ां
तू तो कहती थी अपनी गडु डय को िल् ु हन बन एगी . . . . मेरे इस जीवन को खसु शय़ों से सज एगी . . . .
म ूँ क्य वो दिन जजांिगी कभी न ल एगी???? म ूँ क्य अब तेरे घेर ब र त न आएगी ????
34:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
म ूँ खोय है जो मैने क्य फफर से कभी न प उां गी ??? म ां स ांस तो ले रही हु . . . .
क्य जजांिगी जी प उां गी??? म ां
घरू ते है सब अलग ही नजऱों से . . . . म ां मझ ु े उन नजऱों से छूप ले . … म ूँ बहुत डर लगत है ….
मझ ु े आांचल में छुप ले . . . . :( © “इांि ु ररांकी वम ”द
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
35:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
UNIONE MONDIALE DEI POETI STARTS ITS FIGHT FOR WORLD PEACE PRESS RELEASE BY PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, PRESIDENT OF GLOBAL PROMOTIONS, UNIONE MONDIALE DEI POETI, JOINT- EDITOR HALL OF POETS GLOBAL EZINE.
U
nione Mondiale dei Poeti (a.k.a. World Union of Poets – UMP), Recco, Italy, founded by Mr. Silvano Bortolazzi has started its fight for world peace by way of Poetry. Silvano Bortolazzi , a three times Nobel Prize nominee also holds the title of ‘knight’ to his credit and he wants to work for Peace in the world. With this aim in mind he has invited all the poets in the world (196 countries) to join him and help him promote world peace globally by way of Poetry. LOGO - UNION MONDIALE DEI POETI, ITALY
Silvano Bortolazzi inaugurated the "school of poetry - school of poetry" (15 thousand members on Facebook, present in all regions and provinces of Italy and abroad) together with a literary movement called “Risorgimento Poetico” and delegates (which joined, in just 5 days, while the school has existed for 10 months) can be found on the Facebook public groups titled “Giornale della scuola di poesia – School of poetry”. Throughout his literary career he was blessed to have enjoyed company of poets naming Edoardo Sanguineti (Librex Montale Prize Winner in 2006) and Maria Luisa Spaziani (Viareggio Prize Winner). Silvano Bortolazzi also received two nominations in the year 2015 for Noble Prize for Literature (an Italian and foreign state). On 16th August, 2015, the Mayor of the town of Sestriere Olympic, Valter Marin, appointed Bortolazzi as “Poet honorary town of Sestriere” during the 1st Grand Prize of poetry of Sestriere designed by the poet himself. SIR SILVANO BORTOLAZZI
36:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Some of his published works include, “The Wolf” (Mauro Baroni published 2000), “The Wolf” (re-published by Liberodiscivere 2012), “The Claw of The Angel” (Liberodiscivere published 2012), “Blue Italian” (Edizioni Giuseppe Laterza 2012) and “My Young Italian” (Edizioni Giuseppe Laterza 2014. Currently he has again been nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature and is also working on the foundation of “The World Union of Poets” towards Global Peace.
Silvano believes that there should be no place for money in a Noble Cause and hence he advocates on promoting peace via poetry. He aims to unite the poets of all nations on the virtual platform, Facebook to start with, and conduct virtual events, competitions, fests with the aim to promote peace.
His initiative has received a warm welcome and support from the poets worldwide who with the same aim have joined him and write to promote Peace and harmony on a global level. Remarkable here is the enthusiasm of the poets and their devotion towards the goal that even boundaries and inability of knowing foreign languages could not keep them from joining hands together for world peace. A poet from a different country heartily comes up to help another poet from another country, helping them to translate their poetry in another language and thus promote their thought in the foreign tongues. “Two Years ago why so quickly I had married The Idea of WUP-UMP. In a first time I have been the Head of Lazio Gallery with All Power on Rome Capital Then I prefer to occupy myself to the PR as I did in my Personal Job I said to our World President if we Wanted Develop Our Dream It was necessary become A Great Reality that among the Culture Move Near All the People It is All We have found a TRUE FRIENDS.” Says Stefano Capasso (Left) , Head International Unione Mondiale dei Poeti. “It will also help us to understand other cultures, languages, beliefs, views and ultimately build a better understanding, better harmony among people from different countries. Peace and harmony can never be achieved unless we learn to respect each other’s culture, beliefs, rituals, lifestyles and everything that contributes towards knowing each other. As people we must be able to understand as well as respect each other’s similarities and differences. That is the most difficult task, but once done we will
37:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
be able to achieve World Peace.” says Dr. Prerna Singla, Deputy Secretary to Presidency, Unione Mondiale dei Poeti.
“.. Poetry is nothing less than a sword and the most effective way to convey your thoughts to the world. The things we write, people imbibe, and the thoughts that are imbibed are like seeds sown in the soil. They take effect, they grow into thoughtful plants and once the thinking changes, and it changes the world. It changes the perspective, the way people see and analyse the world and thus gradually changes the way they do things. It is just like the world advanced from primitive to modern, the way Barter system changed to currency system and now currency system is getting changed to Net banking and virtual money. Someday we will have digital currency too, I am sure.” Dr. Prerna says (Left).
The Hall Of Poets have entered into official collaborations with the Unione Mondiale Dei Poeti, Italy, to support them in the cause. Pulkit Mohan Singla (Right) as the President of Global Promotions for Unione Mondiale dei Poeti has decided to promote world peace on all the platforms of the Hall and adopted “World Peace” as the motto of the Hall in 2016.
The fight for World Peace has started. Many people had been fighting for the cause, but not all achieve it. With an innovative initiative let us see how far World Union of Poets, Recco, Italy, goes. We wish them all the best and also invite the poets from all over the world to join in this Noble Cause.
Picture Courtesy: Silvano Bortolazzi, Stefano Capasso, Dr. Prerna Singla & Pulkit Mohan Singla.
38:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
JUST A CANDLE Kindle a candle Just for you! Place it on the table Wait for a moment Or a few! Take a mug In front of you! Accumulate your Thoughts & pour it into! Then stir it well Have a drink real! Then ask to your inner self Is your face is Better than yourself! Š Sumana Bhattacharjee 27/2/2016
I am Sumana Bhattacharjee from Kolkata! I am an Indian and Hindu by religion! I have graduated with honours in literature under Calcutta University! I am well versed in English Hindi and Bengali! I love to write poetry in English and Hindi! My name has been included in "Galaxy of Poets� as an English Poet! Poetry is my passion!
39:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
DARK BLIZZARD Air wake up and be just a light wave, Gestated for curling black silk caress; Be strong breeze prophetic solstice, Drinking endless rivers of milk wanted. Dryad of the apple, your hair is long veil And dye your black air of artifice, Stone redemptive sacrifice, Be your ancestral tide I prefer. Ellipse as a hair of your head Around you I’m turning, simple sphere. You give me your skin conviction, divine sentinel! I am a prisoner of your aura without sadness. Being an insolent air wave is a joy, In the garden of shadows is my rest.
© Fernando José Martinez Alderete, 2015, All Rights Reserved.
40:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
WALTZ OF WINTER
They are big clouds in the sky, Mysterious celestial rocks Winter jealous fear, Snow feverish that expand its icy whiteness. The land cover it gently ermine, If the wild wind of darkness Will remove from me love and serenity, I would expect another life to drink you happily. Oblique flakes falling slowly, frozen. Moss forest has been lost, Oblivion in a vacuum was submerged; Where two carnations grew embraced. The cold winter will become lonely, It will sets the course of my desire to live, When the sun comes up I will be able to climb To find a legendary loving heart.
On the quartz veins a storm of rain, This is your cooing dove snow temperamental, Let´s dance woman this little waltz of winter.
© Fernando José Martinez Alderete, 2015, All Rights Reserved
41:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
FERNANDO JOSÉ MARTINEZ ALDERETE
Writer, poet, theater actor. Born in Leon Guanajuato Mexico on April 21, 1977, Fernando studied the degree in communication within the Latin American University Leon. He has written poetry from 14 years of age and published several of his writings in the most important newspapers in his hometown, cultural magazines California, Leon, Guanajuato capital and Zacatecas, USA. He is currently involved as administrator of various literary groups, publishing his poems in social networks, participating in various anthologies published in Black Island, Chile and stories in Madrid Spain with poets of America and Europe, He has also recited their texts in radio programs in Montevideo, Chicago, Barcelona and Buenos Aires
42:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
COMPOSERS OF THE WIND I changed from G to E minor, To remember the person I used to be... Writing stories within valleys of my Heart... So... It may rhyme with your ballad... I played the piano notes of my Life, Pianissimo to crescendo, An allegro of two hearts, A pitched melody of electric kisses... I built secret bridges Between our eyesights, Like a clandestine translation Of our kingdoms, A cadence of our silences... We are composers of the Wind, Playing ultra-violet sounds... Still counting for a lost star, Singing the unspoken Time!...
Š Anca Mihaela Bruma , 2014
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
43:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
WHEN OUR STORIES BLED TOGETHER When our stories bled together Eternity nodded gleefully Unfolding our broken grounds, Howling voids and lost alliterations… My perfect imperfections Slipped down at my feet, This intoxicated Existence Mended my subdued Heart In spasmodic recurrences… I have been seeking for You Inside millennial dips of wisdom!... I am distressed by my absent impressions Expressed by restored discourses Along my winterish hallucinatory midnights When our stories bled together I woke up from this Ancient grey longing And edgeless Time frames, Spring-flowers blasted in echoed reverberations… Yet!... The World demanded an answer! A cross-examined petition of my agonized paroxysms, No appeals… neither claims over its utilitarian ultimatums!
44:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
A plea… with no supplications and beseeched adjurations… Together!... We bled our histories With hypnotic accents and saffron reminders About the World’s triviality and consistent frivolity!
© Anca Mihaela Bruma, 2016
ANCA MIHAELA BRUMA Educator, lecturer, performance poet, eclectic thinker, mentor with staunch multi-cultural mindset and entrepreneurial
attitude,
Anca
Mihaela
Bruma
considers herself a global citizen, having lived in four continents. Her eclecticism can be seen in her intertwined studies, she pursued: a Bachelor of Arts (Romania) and a Master of Business Administration (Australia).
The author labels her own writings as being “mystically sensual”, a tool and path for women to claim their own inner feminine powers. She uses poetics as a form of literary education, self-discovery and social engagement.
45:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
WWBCPOETS POETIC REVOLUTION FOR WOMEN EMPOWERMENT PRESS RELEASE BY PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, PRESIDENT GLOBAL PROMOTIONS, UNIONE MONDIALE DEI POETI, JOINT-EDITOR HALL OF POETS GLOBAL EZINE.
WWBCPOETS, also known as “When Words Break Chains- Poets” is a recent initiative by Dr. Prerna Singla, the founder of Hall of Poets. The idea behind starting WWBCPoets is to write for and bring awareness about the issues that must be addressed by every citizen of the planet. The first initiative of WWBCPoets is to empower women not only in her Homeland India, but also for women all over the Globe. This poetic revolution comes up with a simple strategy. Wherever you are, whenever you can, whatever writing style you wish to write in, in any language you like, simply write... write about women empowerment.. no matter what gender, caste, creed, race, colour, religion, orientation, state, country, you are from. No matter which virtual group you post your writes to, or to newspapers or magazines, or anywhere, there is no binding. Only that you write and spread awareness. And keeping the same in mind, WWBCPoets have also started surveys (That enables you to voice your opinion without divulging your identity) on their websites and are soon to start blogs featuring the Poetry and writes of artists writing for the cause. “Women have huge potential in them. They are like Mother Nature, who gives birth as well as nurtures her family, her kids. Not only at home but they also go out and earn to support their families financially but it is unfortunate to see that till date even when the world has advanced, so many women are victim of crimes like Domestic violence, abuse, female infanticide, gang rapes, infant rapes, marital rapes, family rapes, harassment, street harassment, groping, eve teasing, burning for dowry and so much more. Above that the status of equality, equal opportunity to jobs and earning are also some of the issues that women suffer all over the world. It becomes a moral responsibility of all citizens of the planet to empower their women. With one woman they empower their home, their family... With a society of empowered women, they empower their country... With the countries of empowered women, we empower the world.” Says Dr. Prerna Singla. The revolution has attained a good support and boost from many poets of the world since it a platform that is devoid of any violence and supports the cause in an amicable way by approaching the basic mentality of the masses. The details about it can be read at: http://wwbcpoets.weebly.com We also appeal all the readers of the Hall to take the survey for women empowerment.
46:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
BIBLIOPHILE
Moon arches through betwixed leafs Casement peers into bare fretters Blushing cheeks in union of sivery lips Browinig's poems with Elizabeth's letters Bibliophilic teenagers fled for Italian sips When that happened,romance was better But adolescent passion flame dips Bibliophile will search this in pages gutter
Š Sarathi , 01.09.2015
SARATHI LOKE NATH Born 31st August 1957, brought up in Kolkata, West Bengal. He Passed University level with English as fonding subject. Started Working in Indo -American company as senior executive in international department. Presently involved in teaching to students of 11,12 board students and Hons. Writing Poetry is his passion.
47:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
THE WOODEN BENCH With a twisted and scornful smile, the broken old bench near the gate greets us for a while. Its tattered limbs and discoloured face attracts everyone towards its surface. Speaks loudly the volume of by-gone stories in a beat,... I become nostalgic with its heat. Flashing memories of my grandpa, sitting in it and narrating the tales of freedom era, grandma's idling there and unfolding truthful story of scary years, adds the flora! Once anxiously I asked my grandpa "Why he loved to sit in the wooden bench most?" Paused a little and then he said.. "Here I share my feelings to my friends". Henceforward I started liking it from every sphere, linked all my golden memories with it in cheers. The bench always giggles with laughter of ours, its treasury filled with pile of churning stories of ours. Evening snacks and tea by its side, with each family member remaining close by its sight. Pours out their daily ordeal keeping it as their witness for their plight. It gulps down every detail and prepares itself in a clean image, for next day in quite. Here grandpa used to read newspaper loud, we try to avoid his boisterous shout. His blurry vision smells our fishy stroll, then the preachy lesson starts and ends with groan. Now memories are rusted like the broken bench, at time lingers for refresh. Grandpa and grandma are no more; bench is silent with all its core. Unwanted, undeserved it stands now, with its spreaded warm hands, fluttering wings of time categorised it as waste product!
Š LOPAMUDRA MISHRA, 2016
48:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
COMPANION I am linked with you, With an attached sheet of paper clue, Society gave the nod, We were tied in marital knot,... Years rolled with many curves, Some ups with moments down, We got involved without knowing our view, Now the social acceptance play a major crew,, We exchanged our tastes and opinions to maintain the plot, The varied roles we carry at times weary but bear it thinking it compulsory, At time analyses weather it is necessary? Still play it thinking, this is a part of dictionary. Marriage is not restricted to a single compound wall, But a huge circumference of compact periphery, As days run fast the companionship stands with a strong loving glory, We stand for each other thinking we are made for each other, Shaky faith brings the twist if we lost our self faith, Love is the only worry, as life’s journey enacts many flurry, But a best companion is to remain steady.
Š LOPAMUDRA MISHRA, 2016
Lopamudra Mishra, MA (English), Works as a director of Credit Alliance Services Pvt Ltd ,Bhubaneshwar Odisha .
49:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
“ASK ME NOT..!”
In the garden bright, bathed in sunshine white, Lined with dazzling daffodils and marigold ochre, Aroma in the air and semblance of the heaven high, Why the vagabond bee, fluttered and alighted gently, On the shaded, lily hidden behind the shrubs unseen? Ask me not! In the ways of the wind wanton, soaring high on the hills, Caressing the boughs and rustling into the thicket green, Howling and teasing the gentle body of the river serene, Why it stopped, rested and looked intently, Landing like a breeze on the shy rippled lake, Cooed and kissed incessantly? Ask me not! Plentiful was the rain, gushing and flowing, Thorough countryside and towns alike, Like an intoxicated faqir on paths untread, Life to lands, soul to dead fields, Why it drenched a sparrow in the nest little, And plucked its heart with joy unseen, Ask me not! Not the riches it seeks, nor the nights of pleasant sleep, Love when strikes, decapitates all strains of thinking clean,
Intrudes in hearts and binds beyond colour or creed, Distances are shortened and borders breached, Through unspoken words messages of silent hearts reached, In the bondage of love, only love speaks, And will you ever know why it all happens? Ask me not! © Shaharyaar , 2015
50:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
“WASHED ASHORE..!”
At 3 years of age, blithe & adorable I was! Like a child from any corner of the world. Happiness was my engagement and frolicking was my trade, My impish smile lit up the tiny house, Carried chocolates & on Sundays gorged on cakes! Aylan Kurdi was my name! Knew not what war was, why nations fought? And why my sun-kissed date fields were razed? With my pockets jingling with coins, and a heart full of prayer, I strutted like the richest in the market alleys! You said they squabbled over Gods & money, Perhaps they knew Gods better & greater were their needs! Under the azure sky, into the blue sea we set sail, Faces grew pale and smile fused into pain, Bordering on hope & fear, the nostalgic migrant bid adieu, To forefather’s land, and bolted abodes! Pointing across the mighty sea, you showed us the Promised Land, Father! With brimming eyes & quivering lips you said “Very soon”! Life on land unforgiving, now the sea betrayed, Cursed was my journey, and doomed were our fate, Father! You battled relentlessly & fiercely, Merciless waves snatched us one after another,
The sea became a death bed and your helpless cries shook the overcast sky, Not a blood was splattered, yet the blue turned red! Weep not, O father! For I have reached the final shores, And with my sinless nimble hands, I knock on Heaven’s door! “Very soon”, I will have my recompense and in measure full, When deviant sons of Adam will be brought to book and consigned to flames! Falling onto the robes of the divine, my sparkling tears will not go in vain, Beware ! For the justice of the Supreme descends! © Shaharyaar , 2015
51:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
An engineer by profession, my love for literature and my primordial quest to express myself has been at the seed of every creation, which are few and far between. Writing on impulse, whenever I find myself in the vortex of human emotion that often stirs us, bringing out the accidental poet or raconteur in me!
52:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
GRASS
Smash me Crush me Bury me in the ground I am suffocated Led to death In the blazing crowd But I struggle I try to breathe In the midst of green beauty I try to live. You step on me Then drown me. My family trimmed My friends killed But I won't give up Not till my dreams filled I fight back But I guess that's What you don't like You don't want fighters You want dumb slaves Oh, and you even created one The stone hearted concrete A non warrior, lose minded Keeping feelings discreet A narrow minded slave A stupid naĂŻve Don't expect I am one of them I am unique I am different And I'll leave my marks upon thee.
Š Ishita Singh, 2015
53:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
MONOCHROME LOVE
The distances have made us apart Ways have separated Aims differentiated Destiny has decided our fate Of being two Instead of one Of starting life anew Dumping our dear ones But will this be forever? Will this ever end? Will I be yours ever And together we'll blend Into one, Together My heart's stitches mend? My heart soaked in your colour Your memories drowning my mind Face to face We'll change what's written Because WE are more powerful Than the destiny itself. No, but you won't come Because now you are someone else Not someone I knew Things have changed You have evolved Now I am no more The reason you breathed for But I'll still be there Waiting for you to come For your smile to drive away darkness of my heart For I'll be the bull's eye and you'll be the dart And together we will be one
54:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Together we will soar higher than the skies Together we will dive deeper than what in sea lies Because when I am with you, I am myself And not only can I be me But any one, anything. Ishita singh Š 2016
ISHITA SINGH I am just a teen with big bright dreams, a proud despite. I am crazy for books and novels, love writing poems, haikus and quotations. Reading other's works and getting inspired!
55:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
TIMING AND ADJUSTMENTS Life is about training yourself to have good substance Learning Finding The right timing to make changes, gaining their essence Keying Facing Up to challenges, finding good timing will enhance Climbing Standing Your ground for strong values will be your critical stance Dreaming Risking Your last dollar on luck is clearly taking a chance Tasting Sensing A small adjustment allows you to feel an absence Walking Talking A good line helps to fit in, staying in abstinence Rushing Slowing Down when the time seems right, showing proper excellence Doubting Reading Between the lines helps make the adjustments come out right Musing Dropping Line of sight measurements to ease readings by starlight Sitting Standing Up for sound judgments, good timing needs proper hindsight Waiting Being Patient lets virtue endure, a sense of when to fight Dancing Feeling
56:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
A sense of grace, timing is the balance we ignite Working Playing A role to gain insight provides an adaptive light Fishing Pulling Left and right, we get a good sense of our line of sight Testing Pushing Our limits make us stronger, able to know our might Yearning Dreaming Of our goals, helps adjusting to them in the daytime Holding Shaping Our goals make it easier to adjust anytime Grasping Molding The shape of events in life, adjusting for meantime Growing Seeing Beyond natural bounds lets us sense when out of time Giving Taking Simplifies who we are, adjusting for what is prime Searching Sorting The wheat from the chaff, finding time for a pantomime Living Sleeping In the dark, adjusting your dreams, a partner in crime Waking Being Yourself, the soul guides you, adjusting your paradigm. Š January 14, 2016 by PBM
57:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
PATRICK BRYANT MICHAEL I am 71 years old and have been writing poetry since January 2006. I have written nearly 5,000 poems since starting serious writing. I was married once for 30 years and live with my youngest of three sons near Seattle, WA USA. I have been retired for many years and write to stay busy mentally. I enjoy the Ocean and nature in general, as well as the arts, particularly writing and music. My youngest son is a highly accomplished musician, playing in 4 local bands, doing the producing as well, since he is a top notch Audio Engineer. I come from a very musical family. I have a lifelong disease, Multiple Sclerosis, but have overcome it for the most part.
58:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Interview With The EDITOR Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, Editor-In-Chief Hall Of Poets, Deputy Secretary to the Presidency for Unione Mondiale Dei Poeti, Vice President of India for Unione Mondiale Dei Poeti.
Our guest today Dr. SANTOSH BAKAYA The Incredible Woman of India [2015], Author of the Ballad of Bapu, Winner of the international Reuel Prize for Literature [2014]
59:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Good evening Dr. Santosh Bakaya ji, I love your works immensely and it is indeed an honour to be able to interview you today. I read your poetry “O Hark!” which is a brilliant work by you, and it reminds me of poetry by Vikram Seth “The Frog and the Nightingale.” and I am eagerly waiting to read “Ballad of Bapu”.
DrPrerna Singla, it is indeed an honour to be interviewed by you. Well, honestly, I call myself a mad writer, and some of my writings are pure madness. Oh Hark! Started on a lark in the writers’ group Rejected Stuff. You must have seen, it is sheer madness. I was so obsessed while writing it, that the weird characters of Oh Hark! started paying me nocturnal visits! Readers got so involved in Oh Hark! that if I did not write the next instalment for some days, my inbox would be full of messages, “Where is the next part?” That was enough to cheer me on. In Oh Hark, part 1, I had killed one of the characters, and this was followed by a wave of protest from the readers, ‘please bring the drummer back’, they pleaded, and threatened. So, I had to resurrect him from the dead. Now, I am about to finish the sequel to Oh hark! Which is a murder mystery in which a talkative parakeet holds centre stage, and which, I think readers are enjoying. I will soon get both the parts published as an illustrated book.
Q. With the advent of majority of poets writing freestyle verses, Can you tell me if in today’s world, good classic poetry still holds significance??
Good classic poetry still has its fan following, although blank verses are very popular. Like everything poetry evolves and changes with the times, but there is timelessness about certain poems and that partly is due to their lyrical quality. The natural, subtle rhythms of H. W Longfellow never fail to entertain. I still remember my dad‘s beaming face, in the glow of the fireplace in Srinagar reciting, ‘Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in seventy- five: Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year.’ And how could we not listen, absolutely enchanted by the musicality of the rhyme as we were? Edward Lear’s Owl and the pussy cat, fascinated my dad, it mesmerized me in my growing up years, and later went on to fascinate my daughter. Nonsense verse, it was, but there was no nonsense
60:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
about its lyrical quality. I have talked of these two poems, because they were so much a part of my growing up years. Trite and forced rhyme can be scoffed at, but not poems, which make you tap your feet, and sway your head to their ebb and flow. Metrical discipline, it is believed can curb the natural flow, giving it an unnatural feel, but these two poems always have a feel –good factor for me. Good , classical poetry will always remain immortal and loved.
Q. What according to you is the true characteristic of a good poetry? If I asked you, what according to you is a good poetry, what will you say? Good poetry should come from the heart, and touch the others’ hearts. Although, I don’t claim to be much of a poet, whenever I write, I just let myself go. The heart takes the driver’s seat, while the head sits pillion, trying desperately to put a word in. I don’t exactly
‘Sit down at a typewriter and bleed’, because some of my poems are nothing but nonsense verse meant to evoke good, hearty guffaws. ‘The poet said, the night is long, that never finds the day.” Huffed the running writer, “is it Wordsworth or Thomas Gray?” What sort of a writer are you if you do not know even this? “Hey, run fast, but, stop what if we fall into a yawning abyss?” Well, what you make of this quatrain from Oh HARK! PART 1? It took a writer of Dr Ampat Koshy’s eminence to read some method in this 80 pages of sheer madness, fetching for me the Reuel International Prize for writing and literature 2014.
Q. I am among the regular readers of your work and in particular I like the way I resonate with your writes, like in the story “Changing Hues” written by you, the characters, scenario and expressions were so well balanced that I felt like I was living into that illusionary tale. What inspires you to write so effortlessly with a young, child-like innocence in your pen?
61:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Well, may be, it is because, the child inside me, refuses to grow up. My daughter’s refrain is, “Mama, when will you grow up?”
Q. Tell us about your poetic journey so far and what are the important lessons you learnt/experiences you had in life while exploring poetic avenues?
Well, truly speaking, I am still learning the ropes. In school, I used to write limericks and was greatly fascinated by Edward Lear. There are two hundred limericks of mine still gathering dust somewhere. That is why the rhyme scheme of a limerick, aabba became the rhyme scheme of Ballad of Bapu. While exploring poetic avenues, I have realised, that, that poetry appeals to readers which springs from the innermost recesses of the heart, be it a rhymed outpouring or blank verse. Initially, my poetry used to be rhymed, but now I have also started writing blank verse. Oh Hark! is written in quatrains.
I have just finished compiling my peace poems, in which I follow the rhymed pattern and also blank verse, and am looking around for a publisher for them.
Q. Tell us how life of Mahatma Gandhi influenced you while you were writing “The Ballad of Bapu” and how do you feel his principles, his beliefs can still change the world?
“You should criticise someone, only when you know everything about him”, I told my MPhil students when one of the students crinkled his nose, and remarked, ‘you talk endlessly of Gandhi, I am a poet, and I will read Gandhi, only if you write a ‘mahakavya’ on Gandhi.” Ballad of Bapu was my answer to him. Of course, Gandhi’s beliefs can always change the world. The problem arises when you put him on a pedestal, and call him a Mahatma, a term he was not very comfortable with. He was an
62:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
ordinary man, who, by the dint of his strong moral stature rose above his frail physical frame to become a crusader for peace. He was an ordinary man with his fads, foibles and idiosyncrasies- which ordinary man does not? But his greatest legacy to the strife –torn world is his belief in nonviolence and I do not think, it will harm us in any way if we follow his path.
Q. I have noticed simplicity in your exquisite thoughts expressed in moderate to good usage of language. For our young readers, kindly share how they can improve their creative skills.
I was really shocked to read a status update of a young writer saying that he had just completed penning a novel, but he had never read one in his life! Well, at the very outset, I would tell these young writers, one can become a good writer, only when one reads, reads and reads. That not only increases one’s vocabulary, but also hones one’s writing skills. A writer has immense scope to improve till his or her last working day.
Q. It is a human tendency to seek many things in life. We seek happiness, love, a successful career, in short, we seek a life that is perfect at all ends but usually fail to achieve all of it. Tell us what is your Mantra for a good life?
My mantra in life is the Hindi song from Awaara ,’ kissi ki muskurahaton pay ho nissar , kisi ka dard mil sakey to ley udhar , jeena issi ka naam hai ‘. I do not believe in looking into other peoples’ cards, and to my family’s intense discomfiture, am forever on a high.
Q. Tell us how your family inspired you in carving the path of your life?
My father was a professor of English, and very finicky about the English language .Our home was a bibliophiles’ delight, my brothers, one a bureaucrat
63:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
and the other a cardiologist, are voracious readers, and very happy with my passion for writing. My elder sister, who is herself an immensely talented poet and artist and my younger sister who works in Delhi government, both have always encouraged me to write. Luckily, my husband is also very passionate about writing and he always prods me on, not allowing me to rest on my laurels, so does my daughter.
64:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
T Guwahatian brings another issue to the digital platform, with new articles, arts, poetry, interviews and much more. This issue is dedicated to World Water Day to be observed on March 22, 2016, and the Cover Page designed by Kunal Borah depicts a theme of preservation of water. The Editorial is differently written up citing a simple example on why water preservation is still negligent. Guwahatian is back with its most inspiring section, Guest of the Month, where Mr. Badal Barai, a sand animation artist, speaks about the unique art, his story of getting introduced to it and how it has the potential to influence people from all backgrounds and ages. The Master Class segment hosts an interview with photographer, Mr. Ratnajit Choudhury, AFIAP, where he speaks of technical as well as common aspects of photography. His photographs are mesmerizing, and possess the beauty that can thrill any curious mind. Syed Yasin Shahtaz Emanee, a student of medical science, brings another article on awareness of cancer and the fundamentals; his usual way of expressing to the common folk by explaining medical jargons, and using science as narrative, makes him one of the most talented writers of scientific articles. There are a number of Press Releases including Slovak Singer, Ivana Mer’s debut album release. Sasheera Gounden’s piece of arts which contain in them a sense of abstract message, and Naseem Arshad’s ‘Woman’ once again reveal the truth that arts can possess. ‘Welcome the Spring’ is a gentle mobile photography attempt by Shanidul Hoque to capture the petals before Spring in Lenses and Eyes section. Manas P Kashyap is here with his ten questions in the Quiz section, ‘Inquisitive’. Three poems and three stories by Guest Authors from abroad and Indian authors adorn the ‘Words in Rhyme’ and ‘Tales of Minds’ respectively. The magazine wishes happy reads to all its readers and well-wishers out there.
H E G U W A H A T I A N
65:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
OPPOSITES FOREVER '' Looking up towards the sky The sun is on the edge of the world Sinking down towards the other side In the western sky Glancing the other way In the east A full moon is rising on it's nightly journey, I can see the old man looking at me And telling me he'll be here for me While the sun sleeps He will watch over our world While we rest Or journey through the night And we can sleep tight Knowing he is there Or watching us on our journey through the night, The sun is fading further Still and glowing, yellow orange As she slides on towards the other side of the world, The full moon rising higher into the night sky, With his shinny, glowing face I can see his face looking down on me And I feel so safe in his embrace The sun is gone now All that is left now is a glow in the sky A shinning, fading glory of what has been And what will be again, The moon rises higher for all to see just where he'll be, Our nights journey will be lit by his shinny face, Throughout the night Š Christine A Perry. All Rights Reserved.
66:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
VALENTINE DAY HAS COME
O dear! Valentine day has come O dear! Let me sing a song! Let me tell you my beloved How much to you I love! Let me dance like a doll I wanna forget one and all! Forgetting whole of this universe Only your presence I wanna cherish! Let my heart beats rhyme for you Let my breaths sing hymns of you! Only your hands in my hands I want to relish every moment! Let me plant a seed of our love One day will bloom like a flower! On this very special occasion I wanna express my every emotion! O my love! You are my whole life Without you I cannot think to survive! Let us celebrate this valentine day For our everlasting bond, let us pray!
Š Dr Sonia Gupta Š2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
67:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
BIOGRAPHY OF THE POETESS
DR. SONIA GUPTA (BDS, MDS) hails from Dera Bassi, near Chandigarh, India. Though, a doctor by profession, yet poetry is her passion. She started writing in 2006 and her journey of poetry continued afterwards. Her many poems got a place in various Hindi magazines and English anthology books. Recently she became an established poetess after getting her two Hindi poetry books published. Her three English poetry books are releasing soon. Besides poetry, she is fond of paintings, singing, cooking, knitting, designing, stitching and embroidery too!!!
68:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
“HER EYES WERE FIREFLIES” (METAPHOR COMING ALIVE) “Her eyes were fireflies” Like the twinkling stars of the sky Her wishes and dreams took to flight As it soared high to light. Eyes tell a story of their own Her docile nature curved it down But then a magical spell broke it And she could see the world around A new world she could see As her eyes glimmered in its glow And she was spellbound by the sight As she looked at it with awe. She never knew she had it in her A treasure chest of gems and glitters A misty fog was all she had seen Until she learned to raise above. She learned to celebrate her worthy self As darkness was not a place to fear Now she knows she has her power For “Her eyes were fireflies” and she could steer. © Jhimly Jolly,
69:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
“KISSES ARE FLOWERS OF LOVE IN BLOOM” ("LOVE CAN MAKE YOU SEE THE HEAVEN") “Love can make you see the heaven; and Love can also make you see the hell”. The Power of Love is never to be underestimated For Love is Divine grace if you ever fell. And so in love he was, A gallant knight of Armour A handsome appearance that could throb many hearts But no figure could draw his concern He lost his heart to a maiden; Whose appearance stirred it from the start Like the butterfly she disappeared somewhere Taking along his captivating heart. No charm could heal his search for her No wine so intoxicating As that of love which rang the bell As the pull was so appealing. But one mystic day she appeared ‘out of the blue’ Moon beam was her face, glowing like a glimmering dew In haste she ran to deliver an errand And Oops! She fell, tripping over her gowns end. But before her head could touch the ground He caught her; as she stared astound, Robbing her thought from her aware self He kissed her apple red lips, and she came out of her shell. Enveloping within fragrance of delightful charm In the garden of love, the rose buds appeared “Kisses are flowers of love in bloom” And so they fell; as their love gradually loomed. © Jhimly Jolly, 26/1/2016
70:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
THE WHEELS OF JUSTICE TURN SLOWLY Lies they lived and lies they had spread, On lies they laid their golden eggs and on it they hatched, Others were but to live their lies, While everyday was struggle from hand to mouth. Every earning was to be paid with taxes; Valid or invalid, Every hard earned was to go to their treasure chest; Must and levied. Despite the effort, the citizens carried on, Gathering breaks of truth, Silently they made a wall by the sweat of their grit, Until the day came when liars were brought to ground. “The wheels of justice turn slowly” And yet it wasn't far-fetched, For every hand that raised to see the truth, Truth was Light that oozed out of every crack. © Jhimly Jolly, 27/1/2016
71:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
ये चल हम कैसम ट्रे न्ड है आजकल ये चल रह कैस ट्रे न्ड है जजसे िे खो वो बन रह गलदफ्रेंड है यूँू तो न थी मजनओ ु ां की कमी यह ां पर आजकल तो लैल है हर जगह पर जजसे िे खो वो पोईट , कवव य श यर हुआ ज रह है हर कोई इश्क के गसलय रे में चल ज रह है कोई बोले कुछ, तो कोई कुछ फम द रह है बस ये तो अब लगत एक ट्रे न्ड है जो बस चल ज रह है नस्ल यव ु ओां की कुछ ऐसी हो रही है जजसे िे खो वो बस स्वैग फकए ज रह है हर कोई अपने को र ांझ तो फकसी को हीर बत रह है मोहब्बत बस एक खेल बन गय है , रूह से नहीां वो अब जजस्म से जुड गय है , इस खेल को हमने ज न नहीां थ इसके फरे ब में आन नहीां थ हमने भी की थी मोहब्बत फकसी से इस तरह फक वो बस गई थी दिल में आबरू की तरह आजकल तो मोहब्बत के न म पर ऐसे खेल क चलन है अगर इस्तेम ल हो ज ए तो ठीक वन द वो बतचलन है हम को भी जकड सलय इस खेल में , वो ब ि में चल पत जजसकी हम भग ु त रहे हैं अब सज धीमी- धीमी जब ु न से हमने भी सलय उसक न म तो उन्ह़ोंने थम दिय एक ज म और बोली, ज िे ख तू अब फकसी मयख ने क रस्त ये मेर इश्क नहीां है इतन सस्त ।
अजय व्य स, 2016
72:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
WAITING FOR HER How to stop waiting for her and bring her closer, He sat at the beach, till the waves came closer. He said if pain must come, may it come quick, Because he had a life to live, and waiting was making him sick. He thought if she has to make a choice, may she make it now, Then he will either wait for her or forget her somehow. He have learned that waiting is most difficult thing, and he wants to get used to it, Knowing that she is still with him, even when she is not by his side nor close near. He said “I don’t care how wonderful heaven is; I won’t be content waiting forever for you.” Deep from my heart I still love and will only love you. His heart used to hear her voice whispering “I’ll come back to you baby boy, I say. I promise you, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll come back to you”, “I’ll count the minutes until you do.” he says I love you. I will change for you, I will listen to you, I will do anything whatever makes you happy, Please stop and tell me once, “I love you, baby!” How to stop waiting for her and bring her close, He sat at the near the beach besides his red rose. © AJAY VYAS, 2016 AJAY VYAS Ajay Vyas was born in Gwalior and completed his Engineering in Electronics and Communication from Gwalior. At present along with chasing his dream of being a writer he is pursuing his MBA in Banking and Insurance from Punjab University, Chandigarh. Being a wanderer all throughout his life; Ajay has visited almost the whole of tourist places in India. Along with exploring the serene beauty of our land he also loves to interact with people from different social backgrounds and that's what inspires him to pen down his thoughts into beautiful stories. His first book:"The unusual journey "that's an outcome of his wonderful imagination has garnered a lot of positive response from around the globe.
73:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
COMMON SUPERMAN
A commonly common man With a lean body structure I am not a super man A scientist or an army man Still my love, my family Rely on my weak shoulders During tense times find peace In my lean thin arms Work for hours and hours Ignoring my fatigue Just for their happiness Just for her lovely smile I may not have superpowers I may not save the world But to my family And for my loved ones I am their saviour I am their superhero.
Š Singh Vikas, 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
74:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
VIKAS SINGH My name is Vikas Singh. I am a master degree holder in Mechanical Engineering. Currently I am employed in Directorate of Employment and Training, Ministry of Skill and Development. My passion is writing and passionate about my passion. I started writing in 6th std. which developed gradually. I am not the professional writer; I just write what I feel. http://shabadanjali.blogspot.in
75:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
SURVIVOR GIRL All and everything buried underground nothing related remained to prove who I am? Even bleeding toes Torn clothes like insane searching evidences Of my forever sweet home amputated And there arise one strange face to help me Wipe my tears with trembling hands Sometime hold my palm tightly And unknown qualms with surge of blood Run to my vibrating heart He felt me messenger of god For a moment forgot my miserable pain His soothing touch convey me stability As shared with me a reliable shelter in His eyes Hopeless and helpless achieved to hug Life. We both started new journey to big Dream land Whole night I slept on his shoulder And he play with my all banned spots Of what I am naive. With wiping tears Caressing hairs. At last in big city we reached In one big house where flock of Young girls caged giggling at me. Their outfits are to tight to body Short and transparent with flowers Dark colours and mascara, puffing Cigars they are visualizing their Hearts with nods and whistles Shaking hands to welcome to Peoples of street. I found all this strange and my new Life stared at me here in arms of Strangers every night
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
76:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
And whom I believed never show face Again. Now I caged here by that messenger of God Everyday tears flows and blurs faces of my Relatives Every sleepless night creating nightmare What will be my tomorrow? Once I thought why not I also buried than Living this helluva life? Later I am changed hearing by others philo And sharing laughing with others What we lives is not life what society lives has value? Suffocated breaths, liars, looters, exploiters All are not masked there? There also not woman caged? Deprived and raped mentally? Against her will like slave what not happen? So don’t think me sad and unhappy ever I don’t feel lonely so I smile because lots Are false living around you there. Someone like god’s messenger, reliever Why not come back again? Like that your relatives not comes to see you In hospital In funeral procession they would come because There is only you have to be buried Whom I loved innocently then why he sold Me? Do you have any answer to reply me? This not sad demise of that helpless Man? Where you ever find heaven in love? Please Don’t forget to tell me. Kill the dreams first and try to sleep like corpse With anybody. That’s all. That is not only decision but my resolution to live Then hell with life that dreams love, child, heaven, Moral bondage for immortality or long life
77:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
Forever fettered with one not like me one night enough? Is your home sweet for namely and mind burning everyday On pyre? So I xx the dreams every day morning facelessly. And stand nude before him challenging real beauty. And your so called beauty lies there below I laugh on them when they comes to clean my shit. Oh my loving mongrels! I ask them where is my Messenger whom I believed heartfully innocently Till the death I would wait for him. To ask him what k.g. You sold my heart? Š SHIVAJI PANDHARE 27/2/2016
I am too much passionate to write creative happening around me makes restless to me until I don't write it on paper I have published my poems on various poetry sites and as well write articles essays on various social political topics and resolved to write a bestseller novel my poetry collection nearly ready to publish and I am in search of well publisher.
78:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
YOU ARE NOT HERE You are not here In this moment All that exists is here But you are not There are so many foot prints Leading to my door Let us enter they say We cannot sleep out here Its too cold Our tears will dry too fast Our ears will hurt from silence Let us in So I gather them all up Swing open my door And step aside as they enter Hoping they rest in peace by the fire You were not amongst them I looked everywhere for your smile And saw only mine cry The blind eye buried behind closed lids Searching for your heart All senses fully alert There is a particular nearness of you Floating inside my body I hold this Like a tiny bird in my hands Fragile Vulnerable Awaiting my move To decide its fate Š Jed Wolfe, 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
79:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
JED WOLFE I am a 49year old single male. I worked as a security specialist for 20+years Personal protection being my field These days it’s back to what I enjoy The building and construction industry Driving big boy toys e.g. earth movers Bull dozers etc Basically I’m a kid who hasn't grown up. I rescue dogs and still ride a skate board I have a passion for hunting and these days writing...
80:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
81:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
GUIDELINENS FOR SUBMISSION FOR THE MAGAZINE: 1. All submissions must be unpublished and your own original works. Check for consistent spelling of names, terms, and abbreviations, including figures & captions. 2. SUBMIT YOUR ENTRIES ON THE EMAIL ADDRESSES PROVIDED BELOW OR BY FILLING IN THE FORM ON OUR OFFICIAL WEBSITE. EMAIL: hallofpoets@gmail.com Website: http://hallofpoets.weebly.com 3. You are required to submit your entries as Microsoft word document via email along with your name, Photo, category for which you are writing, copyright name & year, a 50 word Bio-data, email address, Facebook or Google plus profile url so that we can connect to you. 4. Religious proselytising, offensive, demeaning, harassing, pornographic content will be discarded. Kindly do not submit any content relating to this. IF YOU HAVE ANY DOUBTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO WRITE TO US.
82:
HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 10, FEB. 2016
http://hallofpoets.weebly.com
http://hallofpoets.weebly..com