Poems published in April 2014

Morning in Faro

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Summer morning came walking down
the October Avenue, nights soldiers-
shadows- retreated into dress shops,
hiding behind sexless, brutally naked
dummies with eyes of glass, impervious
to the endless struggle between light and
dark. From nowhere an army of, small
nut/brown faced, women appeared
and began sweeping up last evening’s
excesses telling dirty jokes, laughing
coarsely. Dust sprinkled sunlight before
settling on lampposts and windowsills.
Voices and cars made a noisy entrance,
shutters came down, cafes, shops and
banks opened and the morning drowned
in a clamour of human activity.

Man’s True Passion

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Love’s such a hollow emotion,
Not like hate, which is burning Red
And murderous forever.

Love is ephemeral lust,
Then boredom, lame excuses and
Tame domestic forgiveness.

Hate is lust for revenge,
Older than the world itself
And has no room submissive excuses.

The Homecoming

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

I had been away for three weeks
And my flat was in mourning,
Melancholic dust on the TV set
And loam of rejection on the book shelf,
It cheered up when I opened a window and spoke softly.
On the kitchen table spots of red in
A forsaken wineglass, filled it with
Soapy water and put it in the sink.

Opened the fridge, two tins of tuna
And a bottle of wine. Uncorked it,
Lovely aroma, found a clean glass,
Polished it, the way I’ve seen barmen do,
Filled it to the brim and drank.
Shrugged off the nonsense said, at the clinic,
Where ex-drunks had tried to convert me
To the sullen existence
Of meekly accepting the arid life.


a poem by Lakshmi Priya

As he said,
all world’s a stage,
staffing morbid plays,
lost in these plays is moral,
cast into small petty soul,
which gazes in silence at,
the exaltation for moderism,
scurrility to godheads grace,
obsession for wealth,
but nothing it does,
only gazes, not in wonder,
but in pity.


a poem by Philosopher Krish

I met God in the gap of my Thought
Asked him to answer
All I had thought
In his reply he answered

You have the right to question me
But the answers can never make you free
Move and Move within your shell
Till the movement within
Ceases itself

For whom have you created all this for
what is the purpose
of this rational war
With a silent smile he replied
A tree is hidden in a tiny seed
Any question has the answer within.

A game with your being

a poem by Krishna

Start Your Play right now
life is not to worry
it is pure memory
unveil your illusion
and realize your vision

Come and play right now
with your being
ever dancing
understand your emotion
let it not create commotion

Start your play right now
life is to celebrate
let not a day go waste
every moment you are new
live forever anew

Come and play right now
to transcend from living
into the logic of your being
living has all rules
but being will ever rule

Start your play right now
“living” is within a thought
but your “being” can never be caught
creation is no more a wonder
if your thought can now surrender

Come and play right now
drop all your thought
let go the past which had caught
drop all your defense
your being is your fence

Start your play right now
life is not an enigma
your being is behind the drama
never search for a solution
your problem is pure imagination

Come and play right now
you are living with your past
let the present not be lost
let freedom be your goal
and sing the song of your soul

Start your play right now
life exists everywhere
even in the empty space you never care
your illusion can have many form
only your being can transform

Come and start the play, let us fade
into silence.


a poem by Manoj Panda

From the passions of human instincts
And the struggles of burning desires
Brings forth the inception of new Life
Bedecked in its natural Attire.

As the lips of the newborn
Cry aloud in its new Autumn
Loving caresses and touching Affection
Showers on without any Inhibition.

Little it knows the upcoming distress
As the years roll on its progress
the magic wand of immutable time
Touch one second to change the Rhyme.

Pleasure and Pain becomes the companion
Through thorny trails of countless eon
Father, Mother and Helping Friend
Mix become they in the Blend.

Trudging on its own and leading its life
Sometimes it thinks the reason of Gripe
Why it is born and Why should it suffer
In the Riddle of the Cunning Creator.


a poem by Tanushree Iyengar

Ah, those beautiful curly hair,
Those mesmerizing big brown eyes,
The smooth creamy complexion,
Those pink tender lips,
And all that baby fat,
You make me fall in love with you
Every time I look at you.
When will you come, Kanna,
When will you come,
To my house as a child?

My husband and I wait for you
Year after Year,
Your Thatha and Patti are waiting for you,
Come Kanna Come
Before they become too old to play with you.
Your cousins are waiting for you eagerly
Come Kanna Come
So they can play with you.

I will give you butter and
Anything else that you may ask
I will draw your feet year after year
On your birthday;
I will make your favorite sweets
And serve your favorite fruits.
Come Kanna Come
My husband and I wait for you.

We will hold you in our arms
We will pamper you
We will look the other way
When you play a prank
Come Kanna Come
We all wait for you.

If you don’t listen today,
I will ask you again tomorrow
And the day after till you listen.
Come Kanna Come
Oh, Kanna, why don’t you come?

Sunday Afternoon

a poem by Namrata Raman

On a Sunday afternoon,
I sat in my room.
Reading away to glory,
A story.
Suddenly it began to rain,
And my eyes began to pain,
as I saw a lightning,
which was quiet frightening.
It sent shivers up my spine,
But now I am fine.

Two Poems

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen


The Danish mermaid’s little sister
Doesn’t get her bum wet
Sitting prettily on a shallow shoal.
She is an alcoholic siren in
A sleazy bar and drink whisky
On the rocks.


The rapid rabbit ran hurdle
Across shafts of sunlight, in
A tall trees forest. In the deep
Shadow, betwixt, it stumbled
And disappeared from view.
Now the rabbit’s eyes float in
Greasy gravy


a poem by Bindia Rajpal

A truth exists if you must know,
Life and death are friends not foe,
When rot sets in life must sprout,
Magnificence ascends nary a doubt,

It is I agree an observed fact,
Falsehood, greed have formed a pact,
I’ll give my all for a gain,
Deaf to someone’s cry of pain.

Money and fame – its all a game,
Fortune’s fickleness chasten and tame.
But life does often kick in the rear,
Can wealth then wipe the flowing tear?

What about delving into the past?
When great cultures did their brilliance cast?
Those good times of yonder years,
Memory bountiful its head rears.

The seesaw of living has its fall,
After each era has given it’s all.
Other’s labours grant reprieve to some,
Complacency making their minds numb.

A few figures however remain in time,
Who tenaciously the ladder climb,
Let the world go it’s decadent way,
They illuminate like a glorious ray.

Piercing the gloomy crevices of hell,
Create in it’s midst a heavenly dell.

What is Decadence?

a poem by Kamar Sultana Sheik

‘Tis the Goblet,
That plays
Grave to the Grape
And Cradle to the wine!!!!

‘Tis the Grinding Wheel
That to make the finest flour,
Turns every shiny grain
To Dust!

‘Tis the Soil
That eats the flesh of the fruit
To let the seedling sprout,
And bud again!

‘Tis the Lamp
Where every drop of oil
Is reborn in a steady Flame.

‘Tis the Cloud,
Which for every mouthful
That it sponged of the Sea,
Pours forth in measures of watery generosity.

‘Tis the Earth that willingly devours
All crumbs from the plate of Death.
And brings forth fresh surging Life.
In every tender shoot.

‘Tis the phial of Perfume
Which holds the aroma that lay locked
In the depths of blossoms
That comes brimming, but, when they’re crushed…

‘Tis the broom of Destiny,
Which Sweeps all unwanted into nothingness.
Then, from the branches of Nature
Lays the carpet which must be beholden…

‘Tis the Sum of all Eternity
Which having broken into Infinity
Rejoins with the Whole
And stands Timeless.


a poem by Kabir Timilsina

Kissing the mild breeze
He ‘wings’ with the birds
Feeling the warmth of the sun
He ‘heat’ with the planet

Hope so its his future
Hope so its his life
Full of corruption and decadence
Full of sorrow and maintenance

And he goes away, left it
And he walked away, did it
Who cares about, he is a King
And he lived apart, Killed it

No difference in him though
With the icy and melting foe
Killed himself, no regret even
When the sun rise
He found himself ‘Missing’


a poem by Amudhavani G

It was midnight with luminescence
Women in a state of crapulence
Luxurious ecstasy in the precedence
In my India, a dreadful decadence.

Children and youth blaming adolescence
Don’t even know what is obedience.
Humility gone; Entered pride of omniscience
In my India, a dreadful decadence.

Everywhere, a feeling of negligence;
Future has no chance for reminiscence
In the land of Mahatma’s inheritance,
In my India, a dreadful decadence.

I woke up, my mind in turbulence
Oh! It was a dream, not an incidence
In the land of tolerance and cognizance,
In my India, forever is renaissance.

A Rebirth

a poem by Devika

Life breathed into me
A mystery-
Giving me a face, a name;
Air, fire, water, earth, ether,
Mingled to place
In me some graces, some shame;
I gained my bearings
From others
Who defined my place, my nativity;
Growing into a climate
Warmed and cooled
By the dictates of society-
Somewhere along the way
Interrupted my placid thought;
Winding dark like smoke
Into recesses
Of consciousness, unsought:
My wholeness intrigued me,
Puzzled me-
Searching its origin, its path;
This energy that connects
Me to You
Had questions it dare not ask-
And when I begin the process
Of unwinding
The cover from the soul,
I am left gasping at
Its magnitude
As the task unfolds;
The process of assimilation
Is relentless;
I find it so painful to tear away
The threads of my life
From the fabric
Which has woven them in to stay-
And yet I must separate
My Self
To find myself yet again;
To assimilate the Power
You bestow-
I have to be reborn in pain.