Page 1

Dear Reader s, Frog Croon is a mo nthly anthology where we colle ct poems, haiku, photography and artwor k from variou s authors all around the world. We sin cerel y dedicate this antholog y to all the writer s who are devoted to literature. Ou r main mi ssion is to promote literature around the globe and sp read the lo ve of language and ver ses. Al l works publi shed in this anthology are the copyr ight of the author. No work shou ld be published, broadca sted or re-written without the prior wr itten con sent of the author/ photographer.

Edit or


Image Co ver Courtesy: Pr iyan ka Bhow mick. Copyright Š 2011 Frog Croon Issue 1: February 2011 m Guwahati, India Email:

Publ isher: Priyanka Bh owmick ( Owner and Founder: Frog Croon)




If Words Could Escape

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



Far to go

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



Man’s average i s higher

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



As the New Year Dawns

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



A sea rch of love forever!

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



Stor y of a Girl

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



I Ha ve Forgotten

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



Loving Mo m

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----



Human Reflection s

----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ -


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


the Poets/ Photographers ----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ----


10. Epig ram

Ma gazine

11. Ka shmir 12. Old

Song bouncing on my wall s

13. So meone

like you

14. Haiku 15. Road 16. The

to Mangaldoi


17. About


If Words Could Escape by Christopher Reille y

We really ought to let the Word s loose someday Just to see what they all might have to say. Wou ld they question ever y possible choi ce? Or maybe none of them would have a voi ce, But si mply act as you or I might do If such a thing could reall y be true. Would they smi le and tell secrets si zzling hot? Or marr y your sister and sa y they forgot? Wou ld they run laughing through the si ck ward’s hall s, Or co lor outside of lines on all of the walls? Would they wear the jackets of men long dead, Or see the messiah in so me toasted bread? Do you wonder if they’ d ever steal fro m each other? Or if Word s knew the se cret of lo ving your brother? Wou ld they ma rch to the sound of brassy tro mbone s, Or look in the mi rror and see skin and bones? Wou ld they go down the ha mster ’s tiny snug hole, Or teach you to act without gi ving you a role? The y be good at arguing, like some couple s I know, And when they meet royalt y they bow down quite low. Words can remind you how dumb you really are, At four in the morning, on the radio, in the car, Just li ke people Words can be fooli sh, or rude Their meaning can someti me s be mi scon strued. Word s have edges, and sharp ones you bet So watch what you sa y, they will get to you yet. To love Word s is to always want just the right one Or a new way to describe so mething as co mmon as the sun. So be on sha rp lookout for a new or cho ice Word, Whether it was read, sugge sted, or just overheard. If Words cou ld escape, and I’ m not saying they can’ t, They would do more than just stand here and rant. I’ m certain that Wo rds would do much better than I At keeping feet on the ground while reaching for sky. If Word s ever do decide to ri se up and rebel All we would be able to do is stand there and yell.


Far to go ( Photography by: Na seef Gafoor)


Man’s average is higher by Rm Shan muga m Chettiar

A lion is more confident. An ass is more tolerant. A dog is more loyal. A leopard can run faster. An eagle can see further. A fly can sen se quicker. Yet man is super ior As hi s average of all is higher.


As The New Year Dawns by Car men Hene sy

As the old year wane s, I' m pensi ve, and I hope I did my part, to pause along the way, and to open up my heart.

When so meone was in need, I pray I stopped a whi le, to do a little kindne ss, with understanding and a smi le.

Though the yea r was not so easy, man y fared far worse than me. Did I try to nurture others, when they struggled helplessly?

Did I say, "I love you," to those for who m I care? Or did I assu me they knew it, because they're alwa ys there.

Am I a better person,


as the year draw s to its end? Am I loyal, kind and lo ving? The so rt one would call a friend?

I a m running out of new yea rs, and my hair is turning gray, I have to reali ze my drea ms, without a mi nute of dela y.

Wi th the ch iming clock at midnight, I'll raise my glass in cheer, ma ke the mo st of eve ry se cond, in the brand new fledgling year!



Love is not just a verbal utterance; Love is deep feeling co mi ng from heart; Embra ce, ki ss and all shou ld be from heart! Su ch love i s indeed rare to find alwa ys! Passion of lust rather than love is there; Many are carried awa y so and disappointed! People in high place even after death are criti cal; Sear ch with deep inquirie s as ghosts in old man sion s And su ch storie s haunt us all even today indeed! Search for love never stops despite mi sfortunes! Many lover s are born again and again for love so; Hu manit y thrive s only on love in life fore ver! Love is all powerful force as God i s ever ywhere; But man y have lo st feeling to gauge love ever!


Story of a Girl by Nadi yah Walton

I tried to die. Twi ce. I tried to escape the pri son of a broken mind, a mind di sconne cted from anything rese mbl ing reality. I survived. I survived the fearful whisper s, the uninformed and unwelco me advice. I survived the flash flood of tears and the sho ck of a brand new reality devo id of vo ice s and darkness. I lived through the eyes of a girl who loved. I felt the jo y that radiated at the softest kiss, the sl ightest touch. Life was given meaning and purpose when a chi ld arrived, the end resu lt of the everla sting connection between sou l mate s‌ I remember when the shooting began. I re me mber when the bo mbs fell. I remember watching my ho me, my village, my world burned to the ground because they were on the wrong side of a war with no end in sight. I saw my fa mi ly, murdered and thrown aside like garbage, taken fro m this earth too soon and without just cau se‌ I earned a golden ticket into the Old Bo ys Club. I proved my value and worth beyond the offerings of my gender. I fought for ever y scrap of respe ct as I cli mbed that


Ladder to ha mmer awa y at the glass ceil ing that I could see out of but never get from under… I’ ve seen evil. I sa w it on that night when you struck me across the face and told me how deser ving I was And pro ceeded to rip my clothes and tear out my hair. It was you --YOU who decided that I should be raped and ruptured, and filled with the honor of deser ving you… The se are the storie s of love, of life, and of survi val Of wo men and of me. The storie s of e mulation Fi res, burning white and bright. And from these ashes ri se up the Phoeni x We rise up and carr y on and car ry through. I retell these storie s now, because to morro w… The tale begins anew.


I Have Forgotten by Justi ce Thomas

I have forgotten what it's li ke to breathe Breathe clearl y and concise, I can't reme mber what it's like to think to the point And not belie ve things in my mi nd twice. I have forgotten what lo ve is Or maybe love forgot me long ago it see ms, The only ti me I remember a real touch Is somewhere embedded in my dreams. I have forgotten the days of a si mple time When I was less than adolescent and less than me, A time where I wa s mo re invo lved with people When I had much mo re compassion and sympathy. I have forgotten what it means to touch When so called butterflies floated so me where in nausea and pain, When the weather was ju st that and meant nothing And puddle s where the best thing after a fallen rain. I have forgotten why I began to write Why it made it all go so mewhe re and stay there fester ing in my core, Can't even reme mber the la st mi nute, la st hour Yesterda y or the day before. I have forgotten that alcohol doesn't so lve the proble m Tempo rary solutions never see m to do, I don't know what's in a lie anymore Or what's the difference in anything being true. I have forgotten that time is a precious jewe l in life And I have been wa sting it for far too long, Can't remember what second s and mi nutes mean to me Or even the first line of my favorite song. I have forgotten how to be myself I have been told many ti me s that myself is all but wrong, Thinking you've been holding on fro m lashing out at the world And you' ve been losing you rself in the process all along.


I have forgotten that hate isn't too strong to sa y And so metimes the heart knows how to sa y I hate, Don't kno w why I continue to be Alwa ys con stantly re minded of ever y sing le mi sta ke. I have forgotten so man y things that made my existen ce Forgotten how to hold on, how to cope, blind to so mu ch I cannot see, Forgotten and lo st in oblivion I have forgotten completel y the per son that was me.


Loving Mom by Rohan Choudhury

Bree ze descending down on me from my land, Br ings a message to me in her dancing hand.

A me ssage of lo ve sent from someone's heart, A person who sho wed me the world through my birth.

Breeze now whispering to me si lently, She wait s for you each day patiently.

Pra ying to the al might y with wrin kle folded hands, You have all her blessings she sends.

Bree ze if it is so, tell that belo ved one, I pray for her well being in my day-to-day run,.

I love her i mmen sel y, ma y be that is why I am far fro m her. She's my mo st loving and precious treasure.

Bree ze tell my ' mo m', I wi ll co me to her soon, For she's my sole affectionate boon.


Wi thout her it i s impossible for me to face life's strife, Coz, she's the real anchor of my life.

Slowl y the dark hours of the night wil l be gone, Breeze, car ry my me ssage to her at the cra ck of the dawn.


Human Reflections by Lisa Brown

Human ye be but, with no heart mi sled in rearing I suppose stop for a mo ment, take a minute look closer to all then you’ ll know

Do we all not wrest cri mson ought our flesh be breached? Are not all our shr ill s clo se as peak pitch is released?

Doe s a man with no flesh prove he’s var ied otherwise? Do we all not stop exhaling when finall y we’ re lied?

You can try all you want tarring ca ched beneath ma sks Yet, ye fool s just your self as reflection glan ces back...



Epigra m i s a monthl y magazine which offer humor, poetry, sho rt stories, and anything and ever ything that they can, whi ch wil l delight the reader and help keep his/her ennui away. Ep igra m i s funny, yet not insu lting. Infor mative, yet not boring and confident, yet not conce ited. The y are an establish ment based on affection. Ep igram is only an attempt to spread chee rs, joys and good literature all around.

So you want to be a part of the family? Drop an ema il at: lifebe gins @e pigrammagazi or visit


Kashmir by Giri sh Ra me sh Kute

Ami dst swa ying waters on a boat house, In the mi lieu of snow- clad peaks, beauty vale s, Hand- knit sca rve s adorning beauty fema les, To tell you of a blessed Ka shmir tale, Stupefie s yet without ale. Throbb ing landscapes, breathtaking waterfall s The kahwa odour and the pulao vigor Pleasing to sen ses. Drea m- o-genic Ka shmir A paradi se on earth. But The sistering vale Tells an unli ke tale. Sa ys the sobbing peak, Sees diwa li and holi ever y week, Played with bullets, spra ying blood, Peak that once snow co vered, Melting to the heat of grenade and bo mb, Eyes once filled with love and aplo mb,


Over shadowed by fear. The ones once li ving in jo y Life shorter than of a toy. Longing to say, dare not, Wanting to be free, cannot. A free haven, Now struggling to be curfew free. With life in the docks St reets shut with locks, The once resonance of sage's penance, Now the militants mena ce, Beauty stil l exi sts, But live s don’ t persi st Our jeweled crown Spi ked and thorn It’s a paradi se lost In the paradigm of paradox.


Old Song Bouncing On My Walls by Sushrut Munje

Hello, old friend. It's good to see you again. Did you know? I wrote a song, the other day. And it sang with me, danced with me. It went round and round, up and away. I wonder wh y I sat on a crea king chai r then. The song wanted me on the cloud s.

Oh look, my radio' s on. Lennon sing s away, guitar stru ms away, The song s bounce on my walls, In glee, in glee. I look on. Holding my hands together. Keeping myse lf fro m leaping about. In glee. In utter glee.

I loo k about; cal l out to my sweetheart, I call out to my dog and I call out to my poe ms,


I talk to them, spea k in a whirl of colo rs. I laugh, I laugh and I yode l. It's my old song bouncing around On my wall s, it paints my heart, On my wall s, it paints my wor ld red Oh goll y, my old song bounces around In glee, in glee.

And I live the moments Jo ys ma king the world unreal A painting of the perfect color s A song of the right notes My Old Song has the perfect word s And it bounce s around, bounces around my walls In glee.


Someone like you by Nisha Arppit

I alwa ys dreamed of so meone like you, But never thought it can be true, The wor ld is so crowded that I ma y miss you, Ma y be in that cro wd I would have seen you, I used to thin k and thin k for hour s together, The more I thought the mo re I cr ied and wither, Sometime I was fir m that one day I wil l be with you, Holding an i magined hand I danced with you, When I used to loo k at other, In the corne r of my home I used to shatter, I wondered does so mething like lo ve exi st. And with the time I beca me whist, I felt I wa s going insane, I chuckled and tried to regain, I always kept my ar ms open, And made myself ready that it can happen, In my heart I had the hope, That for sure so meone for me is made, Till One blessed day I met u; my sun shine, I kne w it’s you without whom it has been hard all time,


You are the one I love to depend, I a m sure now thing s will mend, I feel content just only when I look at you, My sadne ss van ishe s and breeze flow with you, Al l I want is just your palpable touch to heal, And here I have my life oh! My love; for you to feel ‌..


Haiku by Makineed i Sur ya Bhaskar

su spending on the wall‌ the water fall s; canorous note in the room!

baby has born, the window- seat no more mi ne!

corpse of darkne ss; pyre it upthe antelucan ray!

in sa lt creek and in pure water lake the sa me sun-ri se!

the moon has enwrapped in black cloud y-rug; mi ght have felt co ld!


night, the road deserted, I feared so litude; but with me, the moon

scenery running back re mind bygone me morie sloan train journe y!

distant songcame afloat and enwrapped me in the hug of musi c!

all the day within the mouth, being sogg y song h-eared at awaken ing!

hornless bells of ox di stantly and leadingl yhow mu ch load is being pulled!


Road to Mangaldoi by Prarthana Banikya

She traveled in packed buse s the ones that sped past vi llages the loud roar of engines heard fro m far away, se conds before you saw the towering vehi cle gliding through roads stor mi ng past bullock cart s that made way to the sides startled by the broken si lence.

often, she sat by the windo w rusted bars, that let the wind rush in brushing her face but never too harsh. and so meti me s, seeing bro ken branches fro m a distance, she ducked her face. through the stained glass, she stared as pictures changed, a reel on sl ide.

the men dotted abysmal rice field s,


their feet half sunk in sti cky mud spot s of brown sp lattered across clean white ga musa s. field s clo se to the road shaded by canopied mustard trees withered by the scorch ing sun bodie s parched up, sweat trickling down burnt foreheads, wiped off by the back of so iled hands.

women in pairs sat in courtyard s yarns in clasped palms, they pulled the m in practiced manner, running the m into neatly wo ven warps and wefts. others huddled in tiny verandahs they chatted, leaning toward s others they whi spered word s that broke into bursts of tinkling laughter.

inside, song s of old hindi mo vie s blared from speaker s above the chatter in the bus drowned by the sound of crackling mu si c. the men with the basket of chi cken s


was now asleep, his head swa ying fro m side to side before finding a resting place on the next man' s shoulder. as dusk bordered gre y skies above, she waded through hawke rs, ri ce seller s and other tradesmen in the crowded bus. she knew would be ho me soon enough.


The Tempest by Saahil Daama

The tempest was gathering Dawn looked like night Fierce winds blew Shrieking like banshees The sky was torn Into a ravaged battlefield A war raging Between forces unknown It looked like a canvas Strewn with shades Of crimson and dark azure Magnanimous blood of the warriors The thunder roared Cry of the mighty beasts Down came the rain Tears of children and widows The lightning set the sky ablaze There was a minute of silence A token of tribute in the memory Of a mighty Hero that had fallen


The strife then resumed With an unforeseen ferocity The Godly forces battled Like ne'er before Earth and the sky collided By another-worldly force It threw life out of its wake The tornado was unstoppable Destruction lay in its path The rain, nor the lightning Were able to stop it It's heart was the only haven The Heavens called for the help To save a near lost battle Mortals and warriors Had been killed all alike. From the midst of Chaos Shone something valiant That put an end to it all The Sun had come


About the Poets/ Photographers

Christo pher Reilley Chri stopher Reil ley i s the author of "Grief Tattoos" availab le through Big Table Publi shing. His work has been publi shed in variou s magazines and journal s, such as Word Salad, and Bo ston Literary Maga zine. He is cu rrently undertaking a secret literar y proje ct under an assu med na me. He can be found on Fa cebook at: http://www.facebook. com/poetryofreil ley and on Tw itter at @Reil ley .

Carme n Henesy Carmen Henesy, a registered nurse for 45 year s, has been writing poetry since the first grade. She finall y publi shed her first poetry book, "Life's Journe y� (ava ilable on Amazon. com) at the age of 65. She continue s to be in volved in the passion of her life, forensi c nursing, and wa s a founding me mber of the International Association of Foren sic Nursing. She is the mother of three wonderful son s and, until the financial strains of retirement interfered, one of her main delights was traveling the world. Her blog, "Carmen's Chroni cle s" can be seen at m .

Girish Ra mesh Ku te Gir ish Ra me sh Kute is a 22 year old medi cal student from Mu mbai and also a publi shed poet and author of " Poems- Mon Pre mi er Tra vail". Writing poetry i s his passion and he idoli zes the great cricketer Mr. Sa chin Tendulka r. More of his works can be found in his blog http://monpre miertrava m/ .

Justice Tho mas Justi ce Tho ma s, 26, has been writing poetry since age ten. Justi ce has desperatel y tried to ma ke a name for hi m because poetry i s a mu ch needed release. The art aspect of it ma kes him hope that others will read his wor k andsomehow relate to what he has to sa y. He will continue to make aware this faded art for m until he stops breathing, becau se to Justi ce there are no soul s on this planet with mo re clar ity and heart than a poet's.


Lisa Bro wn Sh@d Aka Lisa Brown was born in Rich mond V.A. with a “ pen in hand.” A highl y dri ven self taught Poet who’s i magination an in spiration know no bounds taking all that life has thrown her onl y to rearrange the negative to positi ve. Sh@d busted out full force in 2007 to reveal her true versati lity in her wor k that landed her in “ Oh, What A Tangled Web” (poetry from the Internet) in 2008, she has al so appeared in nume rous anthologie s as well. One of her man y new forms of Poetr y called “ Symboli stic” has been picked up by many other wr iters and just know ing that she quotes “ It’s truly “ Shadisfying.” Her new Home Page can be found at m/ .

Makineedi Surya Bhaskar Ma kineedi Sur ya Bha skar, (born on 17-8-1962 in Ka kinada, Andh ra Prade sh, India) beside s a Poet, a Literary Cr itic, an Arti st and Art-critic, Sto ry- writer, Writer of Children Literature, Acade mi cian and Free- lancer. So far published se ven poetry colle ctions, nine books of literary criticism, one anthology of short storie s, five on artcr itici sm, three in children' literature and nine acade mi c books. There are about thirty two books press- copied, the contents of all of whi ch are published in the leading dailies, journal s and ma gazine s. Co ming to Hai ku, his Hai ku are published in man y ezine s including Albatross. Publi shed an antholog y of Hai ku in Telugu language by na me 'Haiku Chitralu' ( Painting s of Hai ku).Hi s is the Fir st criti cal apprai sal on Haiku in Telugu Literature. He has been participated in many national and regiona l seminar s condu cted by Indian Univer sitie s in collaboration with Univer sity Grants Commission. A me mber in the ‘ Wor ld Poets So ciety’ , Ma kineedi’s poe ms and articles are published in the ma gazine s li ke Asian Ameri can Poetry, Albatros, Enchanting Verse s, Vel vet Illusion, Boloji. com , Poets never die, Poetr y Fir st, Poetry Frea k, Poetr y Soup, articlesba m , Voice s m , Books & Galfriends, Just Reliable. com , Poetr y that move s, m etc. Award s and Rewards are countle ss, to me ntion so me, awarded:

• • •

Ugadi Sah itya Prathibha Pura ska ram (2010),

Y. S.Memoria l Awa rd (2009), by Telugu Association of North America,

• •

Chithra Kala Vaija yanthi (2010),

T.A.N.A. (2006), by Telugu Asso ciation of Metro Atlanta,

T.A. M.A (2006), Best Citizen (2006) , Best Teac her - 2004 ( by the Dept. of Edu cation)


Nadiyah Walt on Nadi yan Walton i s a poet, dreamer, su rvi vor, full of life and an all around wonderful per son. Visit her blog to know more about her at http://jadedmirror m .

Naseef Gafo or Na seef Gafoor is a budding, innovati ve lad brought up in nature's lap 'Ke rala' was smitten by the beauty which in spired hi m to tread on a journe y capturing God's creation through hi s third eye. Photograph y being his forte he has atte mpted to pre sent short stories by ma king photograph s based on the sa me. Hi s zeal to explo re new ventures sets him apart from others. Find mo re of hi s works in his website .

Nisha Arppit Despite being a graduate in Science and Working at va rious designations in different organi zations, Ni sha Arpp it always had seeds of creati vity so wn in her soul. Calligraph y, Grapho logy, Article Wr iting, Jingle Writing, Lyri cs Wr iting, Poe m Co mpo sing, Recitation... in creativit y you na me it and she’s done it. Author of the upco ming novel, “ Trapped Wi ngs Open Sky".

Prartha na Banikya Prarthana Ban ikya is an acti vist and a freelance writer. She is cu rrently based in Bangalo re where she wor ks for underpri vileged ch ildren for their right to health and education. A graduate in So ciolog y fro m Mi randa Hou se, Prarthana spent her formative years in Northeastern India, fro m where she draws in spiration for her poems. Her writing s have been featured in Poetry Super Highwa y, The Eclecti c Magazine and Asia writes. She blogs at m

R m Sha nmuga m Chettiar R m Shanmuga m Chettiar, 69, a Tamil, li ves in Chennai. He ser ved in the Rubber Board, Govt. of India, for 38.5 year s and retired as Dy. Co mmi ssioner. He has a daughter and a son, both having ch ildren. He has been writing since 1995. His poems are short to


the point, mo stly on hu man relation and hu man con cept. He has published hi s works in variou s e-journal s, running mo re than four thousand as ve rse s.

Ro han Ch oud hury Rohan Choudhur y is fro m India and has been working as a Deputy Gen. Manager at Holida y Inn Expre ss. He has been li ving since the last 5 years in Leeds. Rohan is an avid music, books and politics fan. He also carrie s a dedicated heart for poetry.

Saahil Daama Saahil Daama, 16, is a punk and wants to be a billionaire.

Sus hrut Munje An aspir ing entrepreneur. In love with his work, efficien cy, anima ls and a wonderful woman. Pa ssionate about startups, a good swi m, poetry, food, kaffe, books, art, treks, travel, hi story, cine ma, cycling and ever ything there is to know. He li ves in Mu mbai, he works in Mu mbai and write s about stuff that kno cks his wood in a loving ma nner.

T.A. Ramesh Born on 28th Augu st 1950, native of Ma durai, Tamil Nadu, the Author T.A. Ramesh i s educated and living in Pondi cherr y. After working as an industria list in Sri Laksh mi narayana Industr ies, Pond icherr y for 22 years, he is occupied in writing poems and essa ys since 1989 and is publi shing books from 1996 onwards. He has written three books of poetr y, two non-fiction and one novel. Along with 33 dignitar ies who notched up achie vements in var ious field s, T. A. Ramesh wa s also awarded as the Best Eng lish Boo k Author by the Sou rashtra Co mmun ity Welfare Chambe r at Madurai, Ta mi l Nadu on 20th Ma rch 2005. His hobbies are li stening to Fi lm and Pop Songs, Music and basking in Nature.




Issue 1: Frog Croon  

Anthology of Poetry

Read more
Read more
Similar to
Popular now
Just for you