Showing posts with label Poetry 2015 Longlist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry 2015 Longlist. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 September 2015
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Biswadeep Ghosh Hazra
Subtle Sublimity
You were like some poetry, brief but intimate,
Like a clandestine hurricane of sorts.
Damaging me from the inside out-
Poetry lies in the nooks and crannies.
But you do not; a covalent contradiction.
Some words cut deeper than sharpened blades
Both of us shrouded in an impregnable blanket of depression,
I couldn’t help myself, let alone save you
So, I let go; sobered up from your addiction;
Suffering from sudden bouts of whimsical cravings
An unputdownable cobweb of thoughts;
Creating a Tyndall effect, set in the backdrop of lasciviousness
Like a clandestine hurricane of sorts.
Damaging me from the inside out-
Poetry lies in the nooks and crannies.
But you do not; a covalent contradiction.
Some words cut deeper than sharpened blades
Both of us shrouded in an impregnable blanket of depression,
I couldn’t help myself, let alone save you
So, I let go; sobered up from your addiction;
Suffering from sudden bouts of whimsical cravings
An unputdownable cobweb of thoughts;
Creating a Tyndall effect, set in the backdrop of lasciviousness
Why can’t you be a never-ending poem?
So I can savor you for eternity…
So I can savor you for eternity…
Poetry 2015 Shortlist, Simran Arora
Drench
On the damp soil
of the capital,
wet and praise-worthy,
water droplets meet
its long lost lover.
Paper boats sailing,
with dreamy childhood
of chirpy children
on board.
Splash of water,
Play of lives,
Missed feelings
of affection and ambrosia
in the words of wanderers.
of the capital,
wet and praise-worthy,
water droplets meet
its long lost lover.
Paper boats sailing,
with dreamy childhood
of chirpy children
on board.
Splash of water,
Play of lives,
Missed feelings
of affection and ambrosia
in the words of wanderers.
The wash
feels the coffin,
in the graveyard,
feels the coffin,
in the graveyard,
underneath the
pretty, homely earth,
of a dead,
decomposed someone
wishing to sail the
boats of his dreams.
pretty, homely earth,
of a dead,
decomposed someone
wishing to sail the
boats of his dreams.
On a wintery night,
With rain and rainbow
greeting us, can we stop by?
For a moment,
Remove our chapals and
embrace the raw land?
For a moment,
let our mask wash away
and candidly live our beautiful life?
Poetry 2015 Shortlist, Surabhi Chatterjee
Caged
You are caged,
In the facade that you created
With those plastic smiles, the vanity bags
And the faces so diligently painted
In the frenzy to win the never ending rat races
The need to be validated, the need to be accepted
You smile when you want to laugh and you hide when you want to cry.
You talk things, things about politics, may be fashion or sports or whatever
But, never your heart, Never!
You wake up every morning to make a living but never to make a life.
You strive and strive harder by every passing day to create a life which is approved by them.
Yes them, the neighbours, the aunts, the boss, the friend, that cousin...
you don't know them.
You log in and logout just to be present,
And not to really "connect"
You marry, you bear kids, earn money and that’s all you do,
Because they say that's all you are supposed to.
You pray but you don't believe.
You point those fingers at the demons outside, but don't ever dare to look inside.
You put up a brave face, when you are actually scared.
You achieve glory at the pretence, of being radical.
While you don't look beyond what has been shown,
You chicken out at the thought of doing beyond what has been done.
What if I tell you, there is no one looking?
No one cares how you look, talk, what you do, don't do.
No one is looking, listening, judging
It doesn't matters really...
Will you still wear that plastic smile?
Carry on with relations u suffer, stick to that job you despise
Will you still hide when you want to cry?
Will you still put up that brave face when you are scared deep inside?
Will you restrain or jump and dance out of joy.
You know what? It doesn't matter really it doesn't.
You are just another minuscule particle
Of this vast, very vast universe.
No one cares
And one day you will disappear
Just like smoke as if you were never there.
So breathe, at least breathe
Fill up your lungs with life.
It's not time yet.
You can't be dead...
Not now...
You have to live once at least once before you are really dead.
In the facade that you created
With those plastic smiles, the vanity bags
And the faces so diligently painted
In the frenzy to win the never ending rat races
The need to be validated, the need to be accepted
You smile when you want to laugh and you hide when you want to cry.
You talk things, things about politics, may be fashion or sports or whatever
But, never your heart, Never!
You wake up every morning to make a living but never to make a life.
You strive and strive harder by every passing day to create a life which is approved by them.
Yes them, the neighbours, the aunts, the boss, the friend, that cousin...
you don't know them.
You log in and logout just to be present,
And not to really "connect"
You marry, you bear kids, earn money and that’s all you do,
Because they say that's all you are supposed to.
You pray but you don't believe.
You point those fingers at the demons outside, but don't ever dare to look inside.
You put up a brave face, when you are actually scared.
You achieve glory at the pretence, of being radical.
While you don't look beyond what has been shown,
You chicken out at the thought of doing beyond what has been done.
What if I tell you, there is no one looking?
No one cares how you look, talk, what you do, don't do.
No one is looking, listening, judging
It doesn't matters really...
Will you still wear that plastic smile?
Carry on with relations u suffer, stick to that job you despise
Will you still hide when you want to cry?
Will you still put up that brave face when you are scared deep inside?
Will you restrain or jump and dance out of joy.
You know what? It doesn't matter really it doesn't.
You are just another minuscule particle
Of this vast, very vast universe.
No one cares
And one day you will disappear
Just like smoke as if you were never there.
So breathe, at least breathe
Fill up your lungs with life.
It's not time yet.
You can't be dead...
Not now...
You have to live once at least once before you are really dead.
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Vasu Gangapalli
Untitled
O death,
Don't be heartless
like the wind,
Which tries to steal
the candle's breath!
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Sunil Sharma
Cleaning
After racing in the sky
The rains left in a hurry;
Drenching the meadows-n- plains
And leaving puddles that mirrored
A purified sky.
The rains left in a hurry;
Drenching the meadows-n- plains
And leaving puddles that mirrored
A purified sky.
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Sufia Khatoon
Enchanted Garden...
Once upon a time,
She wrote of the
Enchanted Garden.
Its soul darker than coal,
Birds and beast strange and bold,
It sang to the insane, To enter its dark realms.
And feel the ecstasy of passions high.
Snails,Beatles,crickets,spiders creeping around,
When you crossed the devious crow,
Cawing and cursing your being.
Your dark soul binds with blood,
A story penned, a curse nursed.
I was no Alice nor did I have any malice,
To experience this unlimited pain,
I soon found my body,
Consumed by an ethereal being.
Soft was his hand, hungry was his soul,
Blood in his eyes,
Death in his love.
Cutting deep in my veins,
He dipped his broken pen,
And wrote his life's journey.
A poet was he, born of human indulgence.
Lost in the forest he had met his destiny.
Enchanted garden enticed his senses,
The Queen of Death had sensed his desires.
His pains, her bosom, His cries, her intoxication.
Soon he was one of them.
He longed for his verse,
His muse, his curse.
Now crippled in his arms,
She sang his favorite song.
Hear O hear!
The charms of enchanted garden,
A poet and his beloved.
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Shreya Naik
Untitled
God is..
Not in the Himalayas
He is residing
In the slums,
On the borders,
In the beggar’s bread
In the Cancer patient’s strength
Do not search him
In the temples, churches
Or mosques
Gone are the days
When he could peacefully
Sit on his throne
Listen to your prayers
Wipe your tears
And attend your fears
Go after him
If you want to be blessed
Give the hungry
His share of bread
Add life to the life
Who is already half dead
Spend that extra penny
Not on your luxury
But the comfort of
The child shivering
On the road
Seek God
Not on his throne
Gone are the days
When he was not begging on the road
Not in the Himalayas
He is residing
In the slums,
On the borders,
In the beggar’s bread
In the Cancer patient’s strength
Do not search him
In the temples, churches
Or mosques
Gone are the days
When he could peacefully
Sit on his throne
Listen to your prayers
Wipe your tears
And attend your fears
Go after him
If you want to be blessed
Give the hungry
His share of bread
Add life to the life
Who is already half dead
Spend that extra penny
Not on your luxury
But the comfort of
The child shivering
On the road
Seek God
Not on his throne
Gone are the days
When he was not begging on the road
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Salvwi Prasad
Blood on the Blackboard
As I watch the world,
From my room today,
I see a tiny shoe under ashes,
A blackboard dripping blood,
I hear cries, loud and deafening,
Pristine souls preyed upon,
What I see the most is?
Morality, stripped naked,
While cowardice smirks us all,
This day is evidence of,
When “Shame” as an epitaph
is written on humanity’s tomb.
Every day there is;
A coffin buried,
A pyre on fire,
But if this is an offering to pseudo faith,
Then the coffin is heavier,
And the fire rages higher,
Now cruelty musters up,
Hope stands helpless,
From my room today,
I see a tiny shoe under ashes,
A blackboard dripping blood,
I hear cries, loud and deafening,
Pristine souls preyed upon,
What I see the most is?
Morality, stripped naked,
While cowardice smirks us all,
This day is evidence of,
When “Shame” as an epitaph
is written on humanity’s tomb.
Every day there is;
A coffin buried,
A pyre on fire,
But if this is an offering to pseudo faith,
Then the coffin is heavier,
And the fire rages higher,
Now cruelty musters up,
Hope stands helpless,
We, the common, need to hold together,
Beyond numerous barriers,
To protect the lives of many
and memories of the dead.
Beyond numerous barriers,
To protect the lives of many
and memories of the dead.
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Ruchi Rai
Behind The Smile
You see the face, smile and eyes;
Draws winged liner like a novice.
Her smile? Damn! Eye catching;
Untied long hair is breath taking.
Draws winged liner like a novice.
Her smile? Damn! Eye catching;
Untied long hair is breath taking.
Eyes that possess unignited sparks,
In so many friends' love she basks.
In this world somewhere deep inside-
A whole world she carries and wants to hide!
In so many friends' love she basks.
In this world somewhere deep inside-
A whole world she carries and wants to hide!
When the sky pulls the blanket black,
She lets herself in her world back;
A few pegs of wine and whiskey,
Just enough to escape the reality.
She lets herself in her world back;
A few pegs of wine and whiskey,
Just enough to escape the reality.
When she lets her conscience submerge,
She fights strolling memory lane urge.
Finally gives in and walks down,
She fights strolling memory lane urge.
Finally gives in and walks down,
In her memories she drown!
The last good bye she wanted to say,
She has rehearsed in a million way.
Inside her, in dark dungeons she meets,
Her scarred ugly dark soul that weeps.
She has rehearsed in a million way.
Inside her, in dark dungeons she meets,
Her scarred ugly dark soul that weeps.
Breathing pain in darkness' solace,
It has given up in life's race.
Trapped inside, stuck in past,
Leaves her in fake robust.
It has given up in life's race.
Trapped inside, stuck in past,
Leaves her in fake robust.
She has silenced her howls and cries,
Pushing herself ahead in constant tries.
Pushing herself ahead in constant tries.
Weary inside, pretending outside,
That's why she wants her world to hide.
That's why she wants her world to hide.
Poetry 2015 Longlist, Ronak Jain
The Storm
An unsettling storm,
Sparked up from the dust,
Holding on a lifetime’s rage,
Turned daunting with every swirl.
Speeding winds gushed,
Passed through in a flash,
Resonating
The darkest fears. Forever.
Sparked up from the dust,
Holding on a lifetime’s rage,
Turned daunting with every swirl.
Speeding winds gushed,
Passed through in a flash,
Resonating
The darkest fears. Forever.
An unsettling storm,
Is rising within.
Is rising within.
An unsettling storm,
Triggering a forlorn memoir,
Emotions projectile beyond control,
Demanding elucidate to this catastrophe.
Some in the back of my head,
And some hidden deep in my heart,
Reasons,
They linger on. Forever.
Triggering a forlorn memoir,
Emotions projectile beyond control,
Demanding elucidate to this catastrophe.
Some in the back of my head,
And some hidden deep in my heart,
Reasons,
They linger on. Forever.
An unsettling storm
Is rising within.
Is rising within.
Poetry 2015, Featured Writer Manik Sharma
Cage
My manor is the purchase
of my time; and it is cadenced
in bricks, as if
to drive, every sound, out
the door. My design
exists, because it perfects
ideas of unlimited thought,
as scrapings on the inside, where
reclined against the walls,
are broken wheels of spring.
of my time; and it is cadenced
in bricks, as if
to drive, every sound, out
the door. My design
exists, because it perfects
ideas of unlimited thought,
as scrapings on the inside, where
reclined against the walls,
are broken wheels of spring.
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Hamid Khan
The One Who Returns To The Good
Written on eternal wings of an invincible butterfly,
Radiant tenderness of an innocent dream.
Elegance of divine hues in a majestic sky,
Subtle reminiscence of a reckless gleam.
Imbibe a sparkling folk tale,
Residing in fondness of the heart, breathing in essence of the woods.
Oceans evoking stories of her sail,
A mighty Angel of the Lord, the one who returns to the good!
Radiant tenderness of an innocent dream.
Elegance of divine hues in a majestic sky,
Subtle reminiscence of a reckless gleam.
Imbibe a sparkling folk tale,
Residing in fondness of the heart, breathing in essence of the woods.
Oceans evoking stories of her sail,
A mighty Angel of the Lord, the one who returns to the good!
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Haimanti Dutta Ray
I Am She
The music of falling rain catches
The lightning speed of sunlight as it lashes on my windowpanes,
In an effective fusion of love, light and harmony
The lightning speed of sunlight as it lashes on my windowpanes,
In an effective fusion of love, light and harmony
I have been sitting here, watching
The slow dripping of water, drop by drop
Drip-drip
From leaves unto my face,
The slow dripping of water, drop by drop
Drip-drip
From leaves unto my face,
My face which reveals a thousand distortions when looked
At, in front of a mirror,
Suddenly assumes the beauty of a
Pristine, teenage girl, a girl who had walked a thousand miles on a
Rain-soaked day, to catch a glimpse of the rising morning sun,
To catch the rainbow after an onslaught of rain,
It was the dream of that girl.
At, in front of a mirror,
Suddenly assumes the beauty of a
Pristine, teenage girl, a girl who had walked a thousand miles on a
Rain-soaked day, to catch a glimpse of the rising morning sun,
To catch the rainbow after an onslaught of rain,
It was the dream of that girl.
She had held lives, now turned into ashes, on the palms of her hand.
Lives that were spent fostering her,
Hers is the voice of tomorrow –
A tomorrow where sectarian conflicts come to a final resolution,
She stands as a pillar of trust among disbelievers of humankind.
Lives that were spent fostering her,
Hers is the voice of tomorrow –
A tomorrow where sectarian conflicts come to a final resolution,
She stands as a pillar of trust among disbelievers of humankind.
Yes I am she.
I am that voice that had meandered
Through lanes and by-lanes,
Only to reverberate around that blind alley,
I had vibrated through the lilting tunes of Bob Dylan
Only to come to a thunderous halt when the forces of Communism
Had fallen crashing all over the globe
I am that voice that had meandered
Through lanes and by-lanes,
Only to reverberate around that blind alley,
I had vibrated through the lilting tunes of Bob Dylan
Only to come to a thunderous halt when the forces of Communism
Had fallen crashing all over the globe
I am she, who had fought for women’s rights for centuries,
Whose voice had had been stifled under your patriarchy
I have withstood the onslaught of violence of the most heinous order,
Yet none could defeat the cadence and candour of my voice –
Whose voice had had been stifled under your patriarchy
I have withstood the onslaught of violence of the most heinous order,
Yet none could defeat the cadence and candour of my voice –
I am she – the voice of femininity, throttled as I was, for eons of years,
Today I have resurfaced, effectively, in the firmament of male domination.
Today I have resurfaced, effectively, in the firmament of male domination.
Poetry 2015, FeaturedWriter Gayatri Chawla
Cocoon
Twin souls cycle together
fetuses in a silent mode
sondering, a winter waltz
twin peas in a pod.
Two steps away
dolls on the mantelpiece, mix-
matched matryoshka dolls
they look related
distant cousins,
cousins distant over a family feud.
fetuses in a silent mode
sondering, a winter waltz
twin peas in a pod.
Two steps away
dolls on the mantelpiece, mix-
matched matryoshka dolls
they look related
distant cousins,
cousins distant over a family feud.
That thermal coat is a mask
two layers of fair skin
under one of dark brown.
Now, chapped lips on the mother’s face
like an empty bench in a snow globe.
Twin eyes of the garden potato,
stare back.
two layers of fair skin
under one of dark brown.
Now, chapped lips on the mother’s face
like an empty bench in a snow globe.
Twin eyes of the garden potato,
stare back.
Poetry 2015, Longlist Gargi Harithakam
Uncle's Visit
Tonight, sleep is a fragile vehicle
The night has already enveloped
A little child in a knitted blanket
Threaded with darkness, grey clouds
Sprinkled on it are pearl-like stars
A little child in a knitted blanket
Threaded with darkness, grey clouds
Sprinkled on it are pearl-like stars
Yet sleep is fretful
Fuel-less and riding rough
Bumping here and breaking down there
Fuel-less and riding rough
Bumping here and breaking down there
May be it is waiting for the wind
The uncle who sings
Lullabies softly with music
Of a revolving fan on the ceiling
The uncle who sings
Lullabies softly with music
Of a revolving fan on the ceiling
But it seems
Thunderstorms this evening
Made him so spiteful
He has stomped trees;
Leaves and branches have fallen
Along with electric posts
Thunderstorms this evening
Made him so spiteful
He has stomped trees;
Leaves and branches have fallen
Along with electric posts
Maybe now he is too ashamed
To come to a little child
Riding its fragile sleep vehicle
To come to a little child
Riding its fragile sleep vehicle
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Diwakar Pokhriyal
A Woman
(Acrostic + Rhyme + Enclosed Rhyme + Etheree + Free verse + Lyrette + Senryu)
(Acrostic + Rhyme + Enclosed Rhyme + Etheree + Free verse + Lyrette + Senryu)
Amazingly amazing,
Wonder of god we say,
Omnipresent and artistic,
Magical attire,
Absolute culmination of love,
Naughty,yet, nourishing,
Omnipresent and artistic,
Magical attire,
Absolute culmination of love,
Naughty,yet, nourishing,
She has been misunderstood,
Time and time again,
A Cinderella of heaven,
Lives here in pain,
Time and time again,
A Cinderella of heaven,
Lives here in pain,
Used and abused by demons,
Sarcasm overpowers sanity,
Still, she fights courageously,
Sarcasm overpowers sanity,
Still, she fights courageously,
Against the dark vanity
What a sorry state of humanity,
Pearls are being decimated,
Purity is to be cremated,
Creature loves insanity,
Pearls are being decimated,
Purity is to be cremated,
Creature loves insanity,
Ripped apart in pieces,
Blind eyes are the trend,
Rules here only bend,
For lust, busy with monetary thesis
Blind eyes are the trend,
Rules here only bend,
For lust, busy with monetary thesis
Oh,
Human,
Wake up now,
And understand,
The equality,
Stop right away, this split,
Sketched to dissect the prudence,
Sketched to paint the cacophony
Sketched to demean the lone purity,
Stop right away, to create a heaven,
Human,
Wake up now,
And understand,
The equality,
Stop right away, this split,
Sketched to dissect the prudence,
Sketched to paint the cacophony
Sketched to demean the lone purity,
Stop right away, to create a heaven,
A woman is complete,
A perfect depiction of nature,
She is the power, the Godess,
She is right, she is wrong,
She is a song, she is a rhythm,
She is the power, the Godess,
She is right, she is wrong,
She is a song, she is a rhythm,
Goddess,
Preserver,
A Pure lover,
A beautiful friend,
A creator,
A warrior,
Woman
Preserver,
A Pure lover,
A beautiful friend,
A creator,
A warrior,
Woman
Spring, winter, autumn,
In atomic sensations,
A woman exists
In atomic sensations,
A woman exists
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Divvisha Bharati
UNTITLED
Laying
feeling low
'kiss me, before I kiss death'
she wrote
Poetry 2015, Shortlist Devika Dhond
The Sole Souls
Down the roads, in the countryside
Beneath the cerulean skies, around English woods
A flock of sheep ambled like a parade
The shepherd, mobbed by wool and sward
A wand in the hand to congregate the herd
He trailed their path yet man-oeuvred his destination
Beneath the cerulean skies, around English woods
A flock of sheep ambled like a parade
The shepherd, mobbed by wool and sward
A wand in the hand to congregate the herd
He trailed their path yet man-oeuvred his destination
Amidst them all paced a sheep, unhurried
Deterred by the lush green grasses, unafraid of being battened
It rolled with the swarm, being parcelled to its dorm
Bleating with its folks in an undistinguished tone
Yet the whinge had a concealed impediment
Deterred by the lush green grasses, unafraid of being battened
It rolled with the swarm, being parcelled to its dorm
Bleating with its folks in an undistinguished tone
Yet the whinge had a concealed impediment
It was Solitude, which spoke out in the speechless
The shepherd let it dislodge and choose its own path
Perhaps he empathised with the sole soul
Or probably it was the same soul, in two natural forms
Perhaps he empathised with the sole soul
Or probably it was the same soul, in two natural forms
Poetry 2015, Longlist Debdip Maitra
Ode to Poets
Beyond the realms of black & white,
Out there somewhere far over the horizon,
Lie the fields of myriad shades of gray.
Out there somewhere far over the horizon,
Lie the fields of myriad shades of gray.
Will you meet me out there tonight?
Out there, where dreams & desires collide,
Where possibilities are boundless,
Where gardens bloom & worlds are created,
By the mere power of thought…
Out there, where dreams & desires collide,
Where possibilities are boundless,
Where gardens bloom & worlds are created,
By the mere power of thought…
Will you run with me tonight?
Out there, in the shadows that lie between dreams & reality,
Where our dreams are still our own,
And reality subject to our desires,
Where worlds collide & rules break down,
Where thoughts can finally take wings…
Out there, in the shadows that lie between dreams & reality,
Where our dreams are still our own,
And reality subject to our desires,
Where worlds collide & rules break down,
Where thoughts can finally take wings…
Meet me there tonight,
There, where our words shall ring true,
And our poetry comes to life,
Where our dreams walk the earth,
And our thoughts are finally free,
Where the banalities of life are left behind,
Only for an exultation in the joy of living,
There, where our words shall ring true,
And our poetry comes to life,
Where our dreams walk the earth,
And our thoughts are finally free,
Where the banalities of life are left behind,
Only for an exultation in the joy of living,
Where we can finally run free…
Meet me there, won’t you?
There, on the edge of conscious thought,
Where we can finally shed our masks of self-deception,
And embrace the insanity of our being,
Where the full extent of our hearts can shine through,
All the darkest nooks & corners,
For only there, amidst the grays,
Perhaps you’ll hear the songs of my heart…
There, on the edge of conscious thought,
Where we can finally shed our masks of self-deception,
And embrace the insanity of our being,
Where the full extent of our hearts can shine through,
All the darkest nooks & corners,
For only there, amidst the grays,
Perhaps you’ll hear the songs of my heart…
So meet me out there, tonight,
And let’s run wild & free,
Run wild, before we lose ourselves,
To this stifling existence.
Run with me, won’t you? And let’s run wild & free,
Run wild, before we lose ourselves,
To this stifling existence.
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