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Excerpts from : Poetry Café
Do We Have A Single Drop of Humanity Left?
I wonder what Indians of our generation, modern and free in spirit and mind, have to say to this: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/videoshow/4815708.cms — a woman was molested and stripped in broad day light in the streets of Patna while crowds and enthusiasts watched the abhorrent act in silence. I am shocked to see that nobody, no literate or uneducated, no wise or unwise citizen had the guts to come forward and save the woman. It is a glaring example of passiveness of Indian citizens, who take the liberty of being sardonic in front of media, in blog forums, yet in real life they are mere dumb citizens. I wonder if the media that covered the incident was seriously lacking in humanitarian obligations that they too became silent spectators in filming such a detestable incident when they should have gone ahead and tried to stop it in the first place. How abusive our county is that after all these, the police had blamed the woman, saying that ultimately it was her fault. Our administrative system is apparently such corrupted and flawed that the police here dropped the facade of nicety when they also let themselves be entertained by the shameful spectacle instead of doing anything to protect the woman. The line between evil and good is so thin, so permeable, and here we find a real-life example of the “Lucifer-Effect”, which states how social pressure and social atmosphere turn good people to evil satanic characters....
- Barnali Saha ( Female . Nashville, TN. United States )
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Featured Poem
LIGHT from THE SUN LOVES EVERY PLANET
The inception
Of
A
Reflection
Light refracted by eyes
The dissonance
Of
Striving
To
Make
Images converge
Parallels remain
Form
And
Shadow
Light slowly dissipates
Merging strangers.
- Robert Strzalko
Featured Poem
FORCES
A force drags
Lines from a line
None can guess meanings
But each can define
A day only of mornings
And you’re waking up all the time
Contradictions and confusion visit your mind
You forget only to force out another line
A friend is an enemy of your well-being
But it’s only his laughs that make you smile
You do everything but can’t choose
And choices keep arriving on time…
- Sudhir Garimalla
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Oh, America
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BULUŞMA SEVİNCİ
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Super Star
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Takta
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Vijay Tendulkar-2
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Vijay Tendulkar
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Malgudi Days
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POETRY FiRST : We Pledge Global Peace by Putting POETRY FiRST
creative writings,translations of poetry and stories, prose, videos of your poetry readings, art works , paintings and photography that reflect the diversity of world cultures.Note : PROFILE PHOTO AND SUFFICIENT Brief BiO IS ESSENTIAL .We at present do not encourage Blogs. Please share your creative writings at Writers Forum of POETRY FiRST in relevant category .
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Featured Painting : THINKING POWER by Önder Bora
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Michael Jackson - Gone Too Soon 1 Reply
Like a tune unborn, In the womb of a song. A step unperformed, On rhythm of the heart. Like a secret unheard, In drapes of whispers. A word unsaid, In embrace of death bed. You passed by. No t...
Tagged: pop, king, prakash, gowda, exist
Started by Prakash Gowda in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ]. Last reply by RUSHABH KHATRI 3 hours ago.
My Loving Truth
Mine is a lady surely not prime for her own beauty- To ensure she be attestant to same, my solemn duty! One wish have I for my beloved-to show her in no uncertain terms All the resplendence she dot...
Started by Maurice Harris in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] 13 hours ago.
Neverland 1 Reply
Neverland One hundred feet of sky darkly sprites shimmer, not above, but beneath leaden feet. Come, they murmur, seek rest in our murk. I don’t know why they flew with hands clasped like Wendy ...
Started by James Murphy in New Poetry In English [ Vol.I ]. Last reply by Soubhagyabanta Maharana 2 hours ago.
POLITICS
POLITICS Some party is against Hindus, Some against Mohammdens Some party is against Hindi some against English but no party is against corruption poverty, illiteracy and terrorism none opposes dar...
Started by DR.RAM SHARMA in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] 21 hours ago.
My Love's Avail
I have no words which befit my heart's sentiment, Nothing could ever properly form it's embodiment- Alas, I assure thee, my beloved, all that I may, with lyric- My love's reality doth belie it's ve...
Started by Maurice Harris in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] 1 day ago.
The Religion of
The Religion of The religion of sitting together under a shade tree in evening breeze with the rattling of eternity Dirt road walking through the religion of insect sounds. Watching together a bo...
Started by Quentin Kirk in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] 1 day ago.
A translation of Rabindranath Tagore's song "Ache Dukho, ache Mrittu" by Barnali Saha
A translation of Rabindranath Tagore's song "Ache Dukho, ache Mrittu" by Barnali Saha At the heart of pain, death and the inferno of desire There still lie peace, pleasure and unbounded bliss. ...
Started by Barnali Saha in Poetry In Translation 1 day ago.
MIRAGE
MIRAGE We are not such as we look, We walk on earth, And talk of flying in the sky, While a boy walking on the rope thinks about his belly, balace is essential for him, while others force on bank b...
Started by DR.RAM SHARMA in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] 1 day ago.
The Bitter Rain
What was once glorious, may be, no longer; Strength seemed departed, but now I am stronger- The bitter rain did drown the most beauteous flower, The amorous wonderment did cease-that very hour! Re...
Started by Maurice Harris in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] Nov 19.
Stopping in the Rain
Stopping in the Rain Winding roads, giant mountains, each a rainy season,blue-green. Weeds flowering so modestly, so proudly, spots of tiny villages. With moving beautiful brown people each with ...
Started by Quentin Kirk in New Poetry In English [ Vol.II ] Nov 18.
POETRY FiRST : Feedback welcome !
Michael Jackson - Gone Too Soon
Like a tune unborn,In the womb of a song.
A step unperformed,
On rhythm of the heart.
Like a secret unheard,
In drapes of whispers.
A word unsaid,
In embrace of death bed.
You passed by.
No tears; no sighs,
So strange seem our eyes.
O King of Pop,
To serenade stars and croon,
And to walk over the moon,
You’ve gone too soon
You’ve gone too soon.
Our silences are eloquent today,
As we raise our hands to pray,
This is all we can mumble, and say:
They say you died,
We know they lied.
If th…
My Loving Truth
Mine is a lady surely not prime for her own beauty-To ensure she be attestant to same, my solemn duty!
One wish have I for my beloved-to show her in no uncertain terms
All the resplendence she doth possess and my heart affirms!
Certainly, she must know all the jollity she doth endue;
Indubitably, she is all my hopes and dreams come true-
Yet, beyond humility, she disbelieves what doth obviate-
If but she could, her sense of self would surely ameliorate!
I want for this more than any, due my l…
Neverland
NeverlandOne hundred feet of sky
darkly sprites shimmer,
not above,
but beneath leaden feet.
Come, they murmur, seek
rest in our murk.
I don’t know why they flew
with hands clasped
like Wendy and the boys.
They claim Neverland
rewards pirates, and
encourages malcontents
to feed on crocodiles,
tic toc.
But they’re gone now
fleet as the wind,
and just as predictable.
Tinkerbelle said,
I don’t know why they flew,
Peter says there’s to be an
INVESTIGATION.
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Excerpts from Interview
A few words with Howie Good
Robert Louis Henry: I love this e-chapbook. How did you come with the idea for My Heart Draws a Rough Map, and how does this, in your opinion, differ from the actual finished product?
Howie Good: The chapbook is a series of 19 prose poems, but I didn't realize I was writing a series, or consciously set out to extend it as far as I could, until I had written three or four of the poems, and with other poems written in-between. This is pretty typical for me. That is, I don't know what I am doing half the time -- at least not until I'm in the midst of doing it. The same pattern occurred with two other series of prose poems I've written, Tomorrowland and Ghosts of Breath.
Generally, what happens in these cases is that I notice an image or mood or theme recurring across several pieces, and instead of throwing my hands up in despair at my lack of originality or novel ideas – instead of treating it as a defect – I try to turn it into an opportunity for a longer, more sustained work.
My Heart Draws a Rough Map actually began as an attempt to avoid cliche. I hit a stretch where I kept using heart in a very banal way – as the seat of emotion, or insight, or judgment – in whatever I was writing. I was stuck until I realized one way around the cliche was to stop treating the heart as pure symbol and start treating it as a character. Rip it out of my chest and set it on the road to adventure. So that's what I did.
Justin Runge, the editor-publisher of Blue Hour Press, had a significant impact on the final form of the chapbook. He is responsible for its beautiful design and for recruiting Mia Christopher to illustrate it. Her illustrations, which have a kind of childlike simplicity, but also a hint of strangeness, do a remarkable job of amplifying the vibe of the poems.
Justin also suggested reordering the sequence of some of the poems. For example, the series originally ended with what is now the penultimate poem. The chapbook was considerably strengthened because of his editorial suggestions....
- Robert Louis Henry
Featured Writing
shopping soulmates: give me more
We are all familiar with the story : boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl gets married. For the majority of the western world, this is our ideal of a great beginning to a perfect marriage. It is important to realize that while India is very modernized in some aspects (i.e.. they lead the world in student's math and science scores and produce the largest amount of engineers in the world) they still keep to the tradition of arranged marriages. Marriages formed out of love AKA "love marriages" do happen in India but it is not the norm. It is an accepted fact that a person's family will play a role in picking the marriage partner....
- atraeyee purkait
Excerpts from Fiction
A Peep into the Book:
The Minotaur is a chilling but familiar account of the rise and fall of a third-world despot. Riding the tidal wave of popular support, Caesar the Marxist, soon turns into a dictator and plunges his impoverished, exploited nation into a bloody civil war. Fleeing from his burning nation, he lands up in a remote island and declares himself the King. Then the personal descent of a once charismatic doctor-turned-guerilla leader into personal hell begins. The Minotaur is born and finally finds his nemesis, in the form of a radicalized native, on that remote island… A dark tale of power-crazy leaders, as relevant in today’s Africa or Latin America or South Asia, as it was in the ancient world...
- Shaleen Kumar Singh
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