Monthly Archives: July 2016

Amir Sarem

Circle

Red wooden wall

Pink wooden wall

Blue things not so clear looks set dumb

Drum bomb explosion the fire

Singing suddenly songs

Animal illuminated as if from another planet

It is a magical juggle

I have taken your hand among the viewers

You pretend it is view

I pretend we are going away

Near you ear hand in your hand

I quietly mumbled

You look at me in the dark

In darkness

I am watching you.

 

The invisible pyramid

Of a trice ago till trice then

Avoid close proximity crash

The joy of falling in a new angle

In a filament of time to reach the supposed error

Again happiness of start or bitter again restarted

Once in a while a brighter view

A right step a devious step again the right step maybe

It might be again to wend of a wend corner bitter hard

Even more bitter again to fall on the floor

It seems disheveled but It is not disheveled so much

Is unpredictable the path

Complex complex complex

Sometimes I forget here

Never the loneliness never you never death.

 

Memorial

Stone on stone

Stencils of dream on stone

The walls of stone

The hopes of stone

The clamps of stone figures of stone

Nursing the stone

New roles on the stone

The role of stone

The stone again and again roles

The inadequate stones

And pupils that

Open in the dark

Only.

 

Passage

With The remainder shoes

Remainder footprints

All the beach in the sand fears remain

Small deception to die

Depraved depraved depraved

I remember it’s too long that you said nothing

And become more bitter everything

Maybe I merge at any moment

With your love with this effete breath

Distraught past has become more chromatic

The distraught way has become more chromatic

If I do not look at you

Everything

I forget.

 

With trees and grasses

Your perfume

Among these all strange smells

Escaped of all the houses of all the perfumes

More escaped of this room of this house

Escaped from me

Escaped of soil wall of tree

Escaped of my nose my eyes from my hands

Escaped of the silent memory

Escaped of the silent silent sky

Now here be and reminding you

And looking to the far and looking to the close

Your scent easy and cute passed of my silence

I stand here by passing your perfume of hope

Of my dreams empty hands of my awaking

Of this frozen sky

And the air does not become normal

Nothing become normal.

 

Words and apparels

The breathing hard clear on countable

I look to the soil to the cloud to the dust

To a brick at night a brick in day

To these all scant names

Infinity stars planets unknown points

Again looking to the sky to the earth to the human

To the home to the way

To the manufacturing and counting

To the secret of automated continue

To the insufficient of all the knowing end of awareness

Until to fruitless build up as much as mighty inadequate

To the last of sickness downright pain that other point

To the extremity of loneliness

To the end of this time

To attain of a sense of the pain has not before

To the resolution of silence

The words overflow of dams

 

Amir Sarem : He is a poet from Iran.Amir Sarem...

YIOULA JOHN Patsalidou

 

TO TERAS.

The monster roared.

‘Then his soul apochoristike

the rotten carcass.

As if relieved of his crimes

and rested.

University, Attila, Makronissos, Gyaros.

Gas chambers, Dachau, Auschwitz.

Barbed wire and minefields.

Incinerated pubescent bodies

who gave up the unfinished idyfthongo

chant their love exhale,

anasyngkrotountai again.

applauding flagged

and freedom from injustice.

Monster died.

Kien hollow echo kontozygonei.

To fire the outer vulture!

Kept the haunted

souls of burnt!

Long live the annihilation of fascism!

Long live the liberation of our souls.

Christ has risen souls of the victims.

Immortal, immortal, immortal!

 

THE MOST GREAT I LOVE YOU.

The biggest love you

I want you to be inspired.

Deep and meaningful to say

but it seems that it will be difficult.

 

With bright colors of nature

I will paint onto canvas.

The bigger and ever love you

because words are hard to say.

 

Open egkyklopedies and dictionary

lest I find big words

to tell you the love you.

But it seems that it is not simple

so much to empefsto to love you.

 

My notes I choose one by one

to write one divine melody.

And with this I love you to sing

so deep so big that simple.

 

THE LIGHT OF Diogenis.

Where people lost

asked Diogenes

me lantern fengontas

in the afternoon?

 

What Qian has since

so many years centuries

same ask today

worlds all cities.

 

Why kind man

searching Diogenes

centuries before Christ

not yet found.

 

I’LL STAY HERE.

Yes, I could march

longest route

avenues lures

and countless temptations.

Delicious berries to taste.

Yes. They could all

be going well

Ma Qian sirens

with persistent call

I will remain forever here

near you I love.

 

YIOULA JOHN Patsalidou born in Cyprus.He studied in France and cyworked on the production of radio programs and literature since childhood. He has participated in shows winning Music & Dance Group and has given the public six literary books.Texts have won awards in international competitions and represent the country in many Global poetic anthologies, dedicated to World Peace and cooperation between peoples.

 

Billy T. Antonio

THE SEEKER

It is the month that opens the year
Arms lift ineffectual hands in vain
Lifeless the leafless trees appear
With impotent strength the hunters begin.
A road. A sign. A lost key.
A beggar’s plea for mercy.

Nakedness is a gift not a curse
An empty purse screams: Provider!
Cracked lips water no longer nurse
The hollow thin sacs in a corner.
The doors are bolted; the windows closed.
He seeks in a cold house the host.

The kingdom one must seek first
Neither light years nor meters away
Blessed (is man) only when he thirst
For quenched shall he be.
His burdens borne farther further
Into the bosom of the loving father.

Vox clamantis in deserto
When prosperity favors the sinner
And sforzandoic efforts remain staccato
In gait the giver the heart’s the keeper.
The tin receives the silvers
Hard and cold to the fingers.

His guitar’s riff falters one more time
Another broken string, another broken tune
The song’s left unfinished rhyme
Is forgotten beneath the pensive moon.
The seeker meets the keeper
In the house of the maker.

AT THE MEDICAL WARD OF BPH
The burst of light
Keeps me sleepless the whole night
How acute the senses are
When one is on a hospital bed

I refuse to wear the blue gown
The nurse comes twice
To check my pulse, my temperature,
And my blood pressure

While the man in the other room wails
(I heard he has prostate cancer)
How much must we endure
Before time takes its toll upon us?

Billy T. Antonio is at present a teacher in the Philippines. His short Billy T. Antoniostory, The Kite, has been broadcast on 4EB-FM, 98.1, Brisbane, Australia. Some of his fiction and poetry have been published in the fiction anthology Only Men Please, World Haiku Association Haiga Contest, Mainichi Daily News, Rose Red Review, Tincture Journal, Red River Review, Penwood Review, Akitsu Quarterly, Three Line Poetry, Hedgerow: a journal of small poems, Poetry Quarterly, Asahi Shimbun, Sharpening the Green Pencil, New Mexico Wilderness Alliance Wild Guide 2011, Anak Sastra, Philippines Free Press, Philippine Graphic, Ani, Liwayway, Sirmata, Tinig and The Literary Apprentice. He lives in Casantiagoan, Laoac, Pangasinan, Philippines with his wife Rowena and his daughters Felicity and Asiel Sophie.

 

 

Songs of a Dissident: Echoing the Strong Voice of Protest

3rd Vol , No 2 (August 2016)

Songs of a Dissident: Echoing the Strong Voice of Protest

Songs of a Dissident is a wonderful olio of protest poems by Scotts Thomas Outlar who has vented out his ‘Shock and Awe’, his anger and indignation at the cruel activities being carried out in the world. Happenings around him in his milieu seem to have far-reaching impact on him. His poems are born out of his sensibility, nurtured and matured, in the gloomy atmosphere of his time.  A rebel poet, yet of compassion and universal outlook, Outlar out-shadows the grey thoughts of the nefarious people whose evil intentions always keep looming large over the process of maintaining the global peace and harmony. All the poems of this collection, woven well, deal with grave issues – Government corruption, the dealings of the Federal Reserve and international banking, having the will to overcome problems with strength of character and consciousness, sense of empowering the individuals. They present vignettes of human life passing through myriads of trajectories and penumbras of modern complex experiences, sweet and bitter, abrupt changes in and collapses of order, political and social, moral and cultural and personal disappointment of the poet and his agony.

Of all the major problems of the world, nuclear proliferation is a subject of concern. Nuclear weapons, if misused, might cause havoc to the world in general and humanity in particular. The poet is well aware of the devastating impact of nuclear technology. In the very first poem “Trump Hand”, the poet arrests our attention to and makes us alert against the pernicious repercussion of wars, civil or nuclear, impending or imminent. The war in the name of expansion of power and strength leads us nowhere but to the grave. Saddened by such negative motive of war-monger countries, he makes us feel the deadening impact –

            .……………….bombs
            dropped
            from all of the war
            props
            poisonous and poised to hiss
            with a snake’s tongue
            venom on the fang drips

He has depicted the heart-wrenching, eerie scene caused by the devastation of the war, in the following lines taken from the same poem-

           A river of fire
            in a ring around the city

            ……………many lives
            lost
            from all of the lies
            cast
            carelessly and callously
            with spiteful intentions

Ecological concerns can be witnessed in his poetry. Wars have affected everything. Their bad effect is palpable in our life. Even nature is not spared. Let us see here-

            The trumpet march to war is sounded

            A prepackaged agenda in the form of a siren

            lulling the ships off the sea

            to bum-rush the desert shores

            and strip the land of all its worth

      while sucking at the tit of Mother Nature until she’s bone dry

            Can you hear the silent cries

            of a million slaughtered innocents?

The poet is a man of strong zeal and enthusiasm, imbued with sense of hope and optimism. He voices his angst and protests against the ‘spiteful intentions’ of the world mad with power and at the same time he wants those relegated to abyss to rise up again to their feet to cope with the perpetrative forces of the world. In spite of the mass destruction, loss of lives and properties, the victims must not lose their hope because

            at the brink of a New Age
            sipping freely from the full well
            raining Love from the constellation
            with a song from the spheres
            about the cycles of time
            The wheels, they spin
            The gears, they turn
            The dust drifts away
            as the Phoenix flows out from the ash

His poetry bears out his revolutionary instinct. Socialistic and revolutionary urges, with satiric undertones mark most of his poems. He is disillusioned with the world, as he feels frustrated, cheated and betrayed in the lurid game of power politics. A note of bitterness and pessimism can be felt in the poem “Absolute Zero”-

            I am a bled dry bone

            whose marrow has been wasted

            with no remorse

            nor empathy

            to spare for this skeleton world –

            I write a eulogy

            as a death wish

            for all hope and salvation –

Political aggression in hand in glove with corporate sectors, social injustice, scientific and technological advancement are some of the remarkable happenings that have misbalanced the proper Order. Growing sense of capitalism has baffled and confused the people. Humanistic concern is on the wane, dignity of man is pushed to its nadir. However, the poet believes in revolutionary optimism. With his optimistic zeal, he wishes to bring about big transformation in his society. His poem “Sucked Dry” has his hope of survival in the tides of turbulent times-

            The bloody valley of silicon wants its cut of lithium

            Don’t pull the plug until they’re done

            the War Machine is having fun

            they pulled the wool over everyone                    

            to fleece the herd on every front

            and now we’re all victims to the violence of a New World Order

            as our desperate heart diligently fights to keep the hope alive

            day after day after day after day after…

His poetry is laced with bitter and severe criticism and irony. His comments are direct and explicit. He is very critical of communal strife among people in the name of caste, creed and community and bigotry as is happening around the globe. He makes scathing assault on the political system headed by “Fat Cat Politician / perched atop the congregation” and the money monger ‘Jackal’ of the corporate world, ‘snake oil salesmen’ with ‘Vials full of drugs’. In “Venom Laced Jackal Fangs”,

he depicts a scaring picture of such people and their evil intentions-

            Propaganda laced with venom           

            sent out from corporate jackals

            Saliva drips from fangs

            they can taste the next victim

The people have to realise their dignity, goodness and indestructibility of their inner strength. They have to muster courage and cope with the divisive forces. The lines grabbed from the poem “One Foot in front of the Other”, a very exhorting poem, are reflective of determination, resolution, faith in oneself, confidence, encouraging attitude they must adopt and exercise till the last drop of blood-

            What you can do

            is what you must do

            and what you shall do

            with this very day

            and every day after

            until the work is complete

            and your soul can lay down to sleep.

In the poem “Feudal Futility”, he expresses his awe and sock at the people who take interest in the news about ‘Royal family / of this or that European country’, Kings and Queens/and Princes and Princesses/and Royal courts and henchmen / and mafia and control freaks / and psychopaths and elitists / and governments and bureaucrats    / and law enforcers and pigs’ who have oppressed, suppressed and tortured the common people for axing their grinds. He expresses his surprise –

            and yet, still,

            the mass man, the common man,

            the mean man, the nothing man,

            clamors for a comeback

            of their oppressor.

‘Sacrificial Lambs’ is another poem of growing resentment and protest. He compares the common people to ‘Lambs’, symbolic of innocence, mute, submissive, negligence etc to be sacrificed at the altar of royal interest and greed. They lay down their lives for

            for their King and Queen

            and Bishop and Rook

            and Knight

He is not glorifying their sacrifices. Rather in reaction and disgust, he is taking them to task. All the controlling forces from political social, religious to the authoritarian have been bitterly satirized and exposed to the world.

“Apocalyptic Eagle” is a symbolic and metaphorical poem which goes a long way in bringing home the point of view of the poet. The symbol of this imaginary creature stands for all the oppressing forces of the world. The picturesque imagery of the ‘Eagle in the sky’ appears tearing into ‘the fabric of creation’. He describes it

            It has two wings that symbolize

            the false paradigm

            of a political structure

            meant to pull the wool

            over the eyes

            of those who are already blind.

He further describes it as It is ‘kin to both the vultures/and the serpents’

            It has no compassion nor empathy

            for its victims; in fact,

            it rather enjoys drinking the blood

            from the spilt vein of a martyr middle class..

In his poem “National Amnesia” , he has raised some national issues, including the ‘national anthem’ , ‘especially the brutal, nasty, hard-hitting, / hard-edged, gladiator style contests‘ with troops facing each other for war. His poetic self is very critical and disapproving of any sort of war in the name of nationalism. What he wants is the peace, prosperity of the country and that is possible only when the middle class of people prosper and do better in their life. He believes in total uplift of bourgeois section of society.

“Late Onset Puberty” has juxtaposition of his ideas well expressed with a wonderful distinction between two types of the people – oppressed and the oppressor, developed and the underdeveloped. Hitting hard at ‘American pop culture’, he is sad at heart that most of the people have become self-centric with vested interest. Lack of unity with collective responsibility and consciousness leaves major problems unresolved. There is no place for such individualistic attitude of the people in the penumbra of his poetic world. He very seriously explains-

            The difference between

            the winners and the losers

            is that the winners

            use adversity to become stronger

            while the losers

            cower at the altar of their oppressors.

            The difference between

            the evolved and the regressive

            is that the evolved

            use their power to scale the mountain

            while the regressive

            hang out at the base sucking thumbs.

Cultural and moral downfall of the Americans has also bothered the poet. To see this degeneration of the people, he unlocks his deepened sense of agonised feeling and desperation. In “Reboot in the Blood” he puts a question mark on America, calling it a country of dullards indulged in drinks. He validates the sole reason for the generational digression with sarcasm and bitter irony-

            Maybe because

            of all the barley beer

            that expands the guts

            and numbs the minds –

            all the wheat parasites

            that bring consciousness

            crashing down

            in a tired heap.

Political upsurge, social injustice, economic depression, unemployment, woes and suffering of the poor, their misery and wretchedness and other affairs and events find realistic portrayal in his poetry. In the poem “Feeding the Beast” he expresses his disappointment at countless problems his country is faced with. He speaks out openly-

            Terrorism, torture, hackers, racism, war,

            gossip, meaningless trivia, self-important

            politicians yapping their gums, a broken

            economy, unemployment, etc. –

            and you know what?

            I kind of like it.

He doesn’t like torture, lies, back-stabbing, murder, rape, emotional hurt, cheat, deceit, unemployment, hacking and whacking, dirty politics , torture and gimmicks by CIA agents which have defamed his country.  With his revolting attitude, he wants the people to

            Disassemble all the machines and factories;

            let it all collapse in a mushroom cloud.

            No worries, it’ll all come back around

            and build up again

            in the next cycle.

He believes that when corruptions are galore, the country is no more. It has to collapse. Thinking of the myriads of problems he becomes prophetic. He remarks in his poem ‘The Days Are Numbered’-

           The Kingdom will collapse

            when the winds of chaos blow

            up from the sea

            across the water with the tide

            pulled in by the moon

            as it does a Blood Dance in the sky

            to rattle the bones

            of the Beast

            after its Empire has been cut off at the throat 

           

In the poem ‘The Good Old Golden Rule” he gets suggestive and protesting when he asks the people to

 

            Remove the fangs,

            suck out the venom,

            shed the skin and

            slay the snake

            in order to demystify the dragon.

Because ‘The system run by the sold out sycophants of Satan’. He is fed up with distrust, political opportunitism, sinister manoeuvre against the authority and domination. He comes up with an idea to put an end to this entire chaotic situation. He expresses that ‘The simplest solution is to just pull the plug’ on all chaos. He also suggests-

 

           Love that which is Good with violent passion.

            Hate that which is Evil with an equal fervor.

            Carry both a sword and a rose.

            A flower of peace for those who choose life.

            A blade in the guts for the liars;

            cast their bones in the fire.

 

“Money Trail” best sumps up the poet’s thoughts and idea. It has all the themes of his poetry put together in this very poem dealing with ‘fall collapse’, ‘controlled demolition’, ‘national security blackouts’,  ‘whitewash investigations’, ‘Machiavellian tactics’, ‘Bush/Bin Laden connections’, ‘Halliburton’, ‘Black Water’, ‘Saudi influence’, ‘The Federal Reserve’.

Another beautiful poem is “It’s a Power Thing” which makes a comparison between two types of people out to control- money and mind- respectively. Here, the poet is successful in exposing the brain -washing game of the so-called authority

In the poem ‘Decision Time’ he motivates the people that time has come ‘Big decisions must now be made’. He further encourages them

 

The last poem of the anthology is ‘Artificial Dye’ in which the poet expresses his stand with explanation and clarification. Though he is a poet of protest and resentment, he doesn’t lose his temper. Expecting a ‘Revelation’, ‘Renaissance’, ‘Revolution’ what he does is point to take note of-

 

            I do not show anger.

            I do not lose my cool.

            I simply go inward

            and calmly, quietly, and methodically

            grind one tooth against another,

            creating a sharp fang

            that one day will bite

            with a fury never before seen or heard;

            and it will be glorious.

His reactive thoughts coalesces into positive vision of a ‘New Age’ where Atlantis will be reborn, all the  chaos  will be pushed at the alpha point, omega order will be restored and he and his people will have a country of their choice. With the hollowness of capitalistic, political and corporate order of the times exposed, he, now has a sanguine vision of a better nation grounded on social equability and equanimity.

In the final analysis of Scott Thomas Outlar’s poetry, it would be no exaggeration to pronounce that he is a rebel- humane-liberal-progressive poet. His poetry is vibrant with a sense of social consciousness. Humanistic concerns are quite palpable. His poetry is an expression of his intense dissatisfaction with the present day system of America and his strong protesting voice against it. It also bears the Marxist standpoint and leanings. His poetry is animated with social consciousness and imbued with political and corporate resentment. In his poetry he has represented the bourgeois section of the people. The language is very effective and simple. Imagery is evocative and stirring.”Songs of a Dissident” deserves wider range of readership the world over.

Happy reading!

 

Reviewed By Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar .He is a review editor ofbh Asian Signature.

 

The Broken Boat

The Broken Boat

Nitin Soni’s The Broken Boat is a collection of 35 new poems. boatKnown as ‘The Curly Poet’ and honored with the title of ‘Most Popular’ (at Delhi University), Nitin is a poet, storyteller, script writer and social worker who feels the pulse of the people in streets and countryside. Dr. Sukrita Paul Kumar, Poet, Critic & Academician has rightly called him ‘a budding poet who is bound to blossom and flower‘. The Broken Boat ferries away to the shore the fragmented sensibility of the weaker sections of society grappled with a variety of issues – social, moral, personal, familial- ranging from poverty, racism, hunger, identity, frustration in love, failure of the system to gender inequality, and woman’s plight. He has tackled all this issue with a touch of social and political realism. Some poems are lamentation over the loss of ethical and moral, human values. The poet also cries out (at) the dehumanized and devitalized nature of man in modern times. Agonized sensibility of woman has found a hyped-up demonstration in Nitin’s poetry which is concerned more with modern man and pressing problems around him. True, ‘this is a sentimental ride which reflects our society.’

Nitin Soni is a humanistic poet with cosmopolitan outlook. Humanism is the crux of his thought and philosophy.His poetry is a universal appeal for creating a ‘harmonious world of virtue’. He cries out in his poem “Such Are Wounds” :

            My wounds are human
            Humanity is wounded!

            I can’t describe the scratches inside
            Are in a variety of giggles
            And masks.

His love for humanity and sympathy for the beggarly people gets reflected in the followings lines taken from the poem “ Do you Know”:

            Wear a cap of humanity

            I call it ‘Love’, not charity!

Nitin is a poet of love and romance. Wonderful image of romance and love is  well depicted in his poetry. He, in the poem ” Do You Know”,  avers :

            I have seen a bridge

            At her lips;

            Where I stand in peace,

            And transfer joyful glances

            Into her eyes; nothing left behind!

Most of his poems in this collection are woman-centric. His sympathy with woman is recurring themes of his poetry. He is saddened to see the plight of woman in society. The treatment meted out to her is appalling and demoralizing. Killing of a girl child is a social stigma on the face of humanity. “Womb-to-Tomb” a poignant poem that presents a pathetic condition of a womb that meets its tomb even before it sees lights of the day-

            Blessed soul in womb

            A boon for the human race

            Her future, pre-decided

            A bane for the human race!

The poet conveys the sad saga of an unborn girl child through his sensitive poem “Say No to ‘Abortion’” Which unmasks our misogynistic attitude:

            The unripe fruits of my dreaming world

            Waving hands to the cruel skull

            Discoloured, abandoned, and aborted I am!

            Farewell to the world full of colors…

His poetry is in fact a universal appeal for uplifting her uplift and overall betterment. He vehemently criticizes the killing of girl child. At the same time in the poem dedicated to “To A Girl”, he also highlights the killer instinct of woman to rise up like a phoenix:

            Punch me I have a heart
            Hit me I am not the last
            Blow me out and I will light up again
            Throw me out I will not complain.

Woman may be an ‘innocent creature’ who can dance ‘gleefully on melodious songs’, with no words but ‘the pain and agony’. However, she is a woman of substance who can fight all odds of life with great aplomb. That’s why the poets reproduces her proclamations and firm determination in his poem “She Speaks Tears”:

            I want to fight adversity. I want to stand tall.

            With determination.

            Confidence. Will-power. I won’t give up…

The poet in him is vocal about while seeking honor and basic rights to be bestowed on her. Some of such poems are – Blind Girl, Womb-to- Tomb, To a Girl,  Oh, Ugly Woman, Poor Mother, Black Woman, Even She, I saw her in my eyes, She Speaks Tears, Laali, etc.

He is a poet of minute observation of life around. He finds so many things that either please him or dishearten him to such an extent that he takes up his poem and express wistful or pleasing thoughts and ideas. He selects his poetic stuff from common scenes of activities. Of such social observations captured in his poetry, man-woman relationship amply arrests our attention. He presents a very common picture of a family rooted in traditional customs where woman is very docile, meek, and submissive. However, the male attitude is questionable. “Man And Woman” is a bitter poem which lays bare everything including lecherous longing of man:

            She always

            Licked

            The dust

            From my feet.

            And I always sucked

            The breasts

            I had been provided

            To feed.

            I was a man

            She was a woman. Indeed!

In another poem “Even She”, he presents a loveless side of man’s heart and mind where lustful obsessions have taken a permanent root for the satisfaction of his carnal desires. He takes the side of a ‘whore’ and brings to light the lustful attitude of man:

            As soon as she made an attempt to flee away,

            She saw a bunch of people looking at her with stones in

            hand, and condoms at the edge of their lustful lips!

Woman is mother. Her motherly ethos is what makes her complete that supplements the cycle of humanity- a continuum of creation. Her children are her world. She can sacrifice her life for their sake, not to talk of selling her body. She has to adjust herself between marital and sexual responsibilities. The poet has thrown sufficient light on the darker side and the plight of a prostitute who has to take of her customers and children alike. He makes us peep into her life which is like ‘an old dying and defeated boat’:

             I knew she sells her body

             And- shuts the door

             To his lustful desire-

             Always present

             And naked on the floor

The poet criticizes all those men who regard woman as an object of desire. His resentment and antagonistic attitude to such men can be witnessed in lines of ‘Oh, Ugly Woman!” which contains the elements of womanhood that makes her greater than any other creations of God. The poet’s weapon of circumlocution for making fun of man is superb:

            Oh men

            Go ahead

            Keep mocking at these

            Ugly women.

He holds religion responsible for the sad plight of woman and takes religious community to task. With a very witty and gritty of expression, he tries to make fun of ‘religious scholars’ who make a great hue and cry over a trivial pertaining to woman. The triviality of this issue is expressed in the following lines of the poem “Of Religious Scarf”:

            That black scarf,

            Her identity,

            Her pride,

            Her religion,

            Exposed…

            By the window

In his poetry, he depicts a very sad picture of woman in distress. His poem “Poverty’ is such a serious documentation of sad end of a woman’s life. She is sexually, physically and emotionally exploited and subjected to prolonged tortures and then brutally killed. He cries out-

            Hungry body

            Wounded Soul

            Digging earth

            She is no more…

The questions of so-called scholars as to ‘who took off your scarf?’ and whoever will be killed’, meets an eye opener when the girl replies that it was the window who had taken off her scarf.

Going through his poems, it is evident that his poetry is also the expression of intense resentment against the social and political system of the country. He feels that the systems devised for the uplift of the common people fail to bring smiles on their faces. The lack of proper channelization of providing succor to the poor people is eating into the vitals of the democracy.

            She was loved

            Yet she was raped

            Her dreams shattered by

            Those beasts

            Who molested humanity, love, affection, brotherhood, sisterhood

            And celebrated wickedness

In the same poem he makes fun of the concept of “Incredible India”. He is critical and satirical of the moribund system prevailing in India. He leaves us baffled with the question put to-

            How can I be proud to be an Indian?

            Is India safe? Is India great? Or is it “Incredible India?”

            Nonsense! It’s not “Incredible India”

            It’s a place where you can rape innocent girls

In his poetry, there is mixture of sense of loss and sudden realization. He makes a wonderful juxtaposition between romantic fantasies and reality. Apprehension in love is well reflected. He as a lover seems to be under constant fear, fear of losing his beloved to some other person.

            I face reality

            And find myself all alone

            feeling lonely,

            I hide in a corner

            As someone approaches to destroy me

            By taking her away. (Dusk and Dust pg 48)

However, realization dawns to him in the long last and he comes to terms with the reality and this is what leads to the positive and sanguine conclusion of the poem “Dusk and Dust”. He gives a noble dimension and orientation to his love. He shifts his focus from the physical beauty and love to the metaphysics of love. He feels the companion of his soul along the insightful journey of his life. With inspiring succor so mustered, he feels ecstatic as he is ‘going to meet my creator!

His poetry is replete with description of incest relationships with Electra and Oedipus complexes that shock him to such an extent that he scathingly lambasts the vain manliness of the lecherous people. The people, black sheep of society, are indeed loathingly disgrace to mankind. His personal feelings and observations find a vent-out in the poem “And Golden Apples” that deals with the relationships between his father and mother:

            Too much pathos in my mother’s face

            And too much lust in my father’s eyes

            Who, after mouthing the simple

            Breasts of his better half, came

            In to taste the apples

            I was growing up with.

            Such a disgrace

            To mankind.        

His poetry also contains melancholic and poignant strains. Patches of pessimism are palpable in some of his poems. He is saddened to see that ‘Scholars of medicines’ have ‘ruptured frailty’. ‘Feelings of bereavement’ surge in the atmosphere of festivity as “lovers celebrate the death of love’. In the poem “Strange Lover”, he laments death of love –

            I am a bird of the new age,

            Freedom I have earned well

            Emotions and devotions have not paid off well

            As my love is down into a grave  

However, he adds a very unique dimension to his bereavement. Since in the celebration of his love’s death, his tears are not welcomed, he gets philosophical and brings about idiosyncrasies of reconciliation when he accepts-

            Death of love is a way to freedom

In short, Nitin’s The Broken Boat is a poetic endeavor to sail through quagmire of social and familial evils, with observation and realization, irony and satire, furrowing the world with feministic perspectives either side, leaving behind the foams and tides for the readers of poetry to get a feel of his feelings and intensity of emotions. Human predicament, utter negligence of the individuals, isolation and alienation of the self, perversion, nerve- shattering experience, minute observation of life etc find a realistic treatment in his poetry, mostly compressed in a feminine voice and that is very unique of his writings.

In his poetry, he is not only ‘romancing with poetry in fluffy notions of love’ but also puts forth glaring social issues with great compassion and sensibility. Addressing the social problems is of prime concern for him. The system has failed to come up to the expectation of the people. Hence he has lambasted the system for its failure. The Broken Boat is punched with satire, irony and severe resentment and indignation, love being the motivating stimulation for rowing on the river of his thoughts and intense feeling. He wants to zero in on the positive ideology of social and global harmony and symmetry and comprehensive values of morality and ethics and of course, humanity. He has succeeded in echoing his voice around the globe for ushering in the internal utopia of purity of heart, love and relations and external world of global fraternity and harmony. His poems show sense of loss, new age dilemma and reflections, dejection, despondency and disillusionment of modern ways and approaches to love. On the other hand, they also articulate realization of reality evading romantic fantasies, and apprehension of and fear of losing love. He has dealt with all this with great panache and elegance. The following lines from the poem “Farewell to Rumors” best describe his poetry as sensible, sensitive and realistic reflection of human existence with its upheavals as it has

            a mirror of impracticality

            A shadow of blind-reality

            The time roars higher,

            Stating: the chaos was to those who live in chaos.

“The Broken Boat” is sure to lead the readers to explore the layers of consciousness after sailing through the quagmire of myriads of social and moral evils, and personal and impersonal depravities and abnormalities.

Happy reading!

Book Reviewed by —-Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar.He is a Review Editor10801644_10204637325948678_9145761407248314636_n of Asian Signature.

 

A Place for Your Ghost Animals

The Disorder of Things: A Review of Kushal Poddar’s A Place for kpYour Ghost Animals (Colorado Springs: Ripple Effect Publishing LLC, 2015)and Understanding the Neighborhood (Melbourne: Blank Rune Press, 2015) by Dr. Amit Shankar Saha

Michel Foucault in the first chapter of his book The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences describes at length Diego Velasquez’s painting Las Meninas. He explains how the artist has brought the focus by juxtaposing various elements depicted in the scene, including the usage of the mirror and the reflection cast on it. The fulcrum, the punctum and the hint of a narrative all come alive in the painting. A hundred or so pages later Foucault writes about how true writing began:

True writing began when the attempt was made to represent, no longer the thing itself, but one of its constituent elements, or one of the circumstances that habitually attend it, or gain some other thing that it resembles. These three methods produced three techniques: the curiological writing of the Egyptians – the crudest of the three – which employs ‘the principal circumstance of a subject in lieu of the whole’ (a bow for a battle, a ladder for a siege); then the ‘tropal’ hieroglyphics – somewhat more perfected – which employ some notable circumstance (since God is all-powerful he knows everything and sees all that men do: he is therefore represented by an eye); finally, symbolic writing, which makes use of more of less concealed resemblances (the rising sun is expressed by the head of a crocodile whose round eyes are just level with the surface of the water). We can recognize here the three great figures of rhetoric: synecdoche, metonymy, catachresis.

Although writing is very different from painting, at a certain point in the history of civilizations they were the same. The development of language brought an end to figurative representation in writing and led it to the path of linguistic tradition. But the deep-seated homology between painting and writing is sometimes depicted in poetry. Kushal Poddar’s writing has such a primitivism and yet they are utterly modern. It is the coexistence of contradictions that make Poddar’s work poetry. Cleanth Brooks in “The Language of Paradox” writes that “paradoxes spring from the very nature of the poet’s language” and quotes T. S. Eliot on poetry: “that perpetual slight alteration of language, words perpetually juxtaposed in new and sudden combinations.” This is the hallmark of modernity and Kushal Poddar’s poetry is seeped in it: a poem of his is titled “Violent Calm”, poems begin with sentences and phrases like “Bleed the trees, branches”, “The sharks fall into lazy deaths”, poems end with the phrases like “serve me/ my sleep”, “numbing satisfaction”, or in the middle of a poem a combination occurs like the lines“A grain of salt rubs/ its soul on my eyes.” But what comes out from all of these, quite prominently, is the imagist aspect of Poddar’s poems for he paints with words what Velasquez did with strokes in Las Meninas. Take for example Poddar’s short poem “Stairs” from his book A Place for Your Ghost Animals,where a brilliant display of light and shadow occurs, created through words and where the visual and the lexical combine in a harmony of its own:

                        These stairs have

                        vertical dark sides

                        parallels of light

                        and two unseen angles

                        where they meet

                        and discuss our feet.

Poddar first depicts the vertical dark sides and then brings in the parallels of light, which are both visual as well as verbal because the readers too are in the dark until they are made aware of the picture that is gradually being revealed. Yet, the picture that is revealed is not an unqualified one but given configurations through words “vertical” and “parallels.” Once the image is established in the mind of the reader, immediately a paradox is created of something that is being made aware of but not visually revealed: “two unseen angles.” It creates suspense, which is utilized is the last couplet where the light and the dark meet to “discuss our feet.” The fulcrum of the poem occurs after the first four lines and the focus pivots on to “our feet.” The imagery is very visual depicting two people standing unseen at the stairs but the punctum is deliberately kept outside the frame of view since we don’t know what is being transpired between the two. Yet there is a hint of a narrative even in this staccato imagery. The very word “feet” resounds of “fate.” The word association is not of anything other than mere sound, which is the peculiar characteristic of poetry. It almost makes us read “unseen” as “unknown” – the unknown fate of two people standing on the stairs. Kushal Poddar’s poems yield effortlessly to the language of painting.

Poddar always starts with an image in his mind which he transfers into the mind of the readers through words that reveal apparently concealed resemblances. This imagist aspect of his poetry is evident in almost all of his poems. Often modernists are accused of distorting reality but the modernism that Poddar displays in his poems is a matter of perspective and subtly mediated by emotions. Even though poetry has imagist qualities, it does not find analogy with painting because a painting can be perceived at once as a whole but a poem cannot be read all the lines at the same time. Poetry, or for that matter any form of literature, reveals gradually, as one goes further into reading it. Thus it is more comparable to music, which has this akin characteristic. But what if the canvas is not a flat one? The topography of Poddar’s canvas is not flat but, rather, a globular one. Poddar paints his word pictures on a round urn, which on turning reveals gradually with a latent surprise at every turn. Let us take one more example of Poddar’s poems, this time from his book Understanding the Neighborhood, “Reading In-between.”

                        This must be about your mother,

                        I say reading a sad piece.

                        No, the poet shakes his head, I

                        wrote about the day I first

                        visited the circus. I nod.

                        The same thing. A lioness

                        leaps through a flaming ring into

                        my mind. They kept her hungry

                        all day, promised to let her see

                        her cub after she marvels

                        at this trick, and they whispered

                        in my ear – Be her cub, she won’t

                        know the difference. This, a sad

                        song, I say. No, about

                        a fun day, says the poet.

Every line of this poem reveals something new, constantly surprising the reader. It seems the conversation between the narrator and the poet in the poem is done in anticipation of the reader’s emotional response and modifying the perceptions at every turn. The poem talks about a poem within the poem, which the narrator assumes to be about the poet’s mother. Immediately this is negated by giving a picture of a circus. But as soon as the reader eases into a different perception, the idea of the mother is again brought back in the form of the lioness. An emotion of pathos is expressed regarding the lion but there is a further twist when it is revealed that the poet is asked to be her cub. Thereby the emotion is shifted and heightened at the same time. The reader’s feelings of sadness is anticipated and put in the words of the narrator but then the poet again gives a satirical twist by mentioning it to be a fun day and not a sad one. It almost veers on the side of bathos but with a sense of acute irony. This too is a visual poem with the imagery of the lioness leaping through the flame into none other than the reader’s mind. And there is musicality too in the usage of the words “sad”, “day”, “say”, etc. The question that naturally arises is whether this is Poddar’s trick or art? Sartre has said that poets have the capacity to perceive things in their bare particularity. John Foster in his book The Nature of Perception says that “our perceptual contact with things in the physical world becomes direct at the point where there is no further perceptual mediation within the physical domain.” It is the raw sensation of sights and sounds, called qualia, which Poddar has the ability to perceive directly without any intermediary. Jean-Francois Lyotard has called “modern the art which devotes its ‘little technical expertise’ … to present the fact that the unpresentable exists.” Poddar’s ability is that technical expertise. By making visible what was conceivably invisible is what makes Poddar’s poetry a work of modern art.

Kushal Poddar’s poems very often create enigmas and leave the readers in a state of flux, in a state of multiplicity of possibilities and sometimes in a shock of recognition. In “The Invertebrate” he writes about a moth:

                        I shall release you, moth. I shall

                        stand on my peeling-away porch

                        and see you wave back. Oh such joy.

                        Can I afford to bear it? Your

                        freedom depends on the answer.

He leaves the poem open-ended and introduces a degree of undecidability in the mind of the reader after speaking of “joy”and raising the spirit because he transfers his state of mind into the mind of the reader without giving any access to finality. The reader is kept in a suspended state, in a somber mood, in a moment of flux. In poems like “About the Black Cat” and “The Prismic” he shows us things that apparently do not exist. In the former poem there is no black cat and yet the entire scene becomes a black cat. In the latter poem he pictures an imaginary and yet a tangible triangle formed by the lover, the winter outside and the glass. His imagery is inventive – “spikes of rain on your head”, “nails of water on your feet” – and yet not difficult to perceive once pointed out. He does not philosophize but only rarely in a way that a magician does with a sleight of his hand. “The Faithful Faithless” is a prime example of that. Sometimes he comes with a wry humor as in “The Old Goat.” Sometimes he is sensuous as in “Moaning a Prayer.” It is not only his technique that is inventive but equally his diction: “fossick”, “gloaming”, “nolition”, “friable”, “maws”form the vocabulary of his tangential thinking. Sometimes he comes with such inventiveness, which by virtue of being applied in a particular manner skirts away from being banal and stand out as a literary device: “a tractor/ rests on a bag of hybrid seeds” (“Fields”). Images of the dog, the cat, the lover, the shark, the mother, the father, the brother, the neighbor, and others populate his poems. These imageries are very much impressionistic like transitory mental manifestations. His refined ability to concatenate words in a particular order that brings out a hidden meaning is exceptional. His poems are both personal as well as social but never any one strand leaves its subterranean lair. His poems arouse a synesthetic response from the readers because they appeal to the senses at an awkward angle. He can call the borrowed sugar from a neighbor’s house, can make auto lights yelp, can cause songs to tumble and roll and can pour good luck in a madman’s ear. He can make poems speak to your eyes. He brings about a disorder in things and then shows you the hidden order of beauty.

 Kushal Poddar: Born in a warm corner of India, a lone child kp1 brought up with his shadow mates, Kushal Poddar (1977- ) began writing verse at the age of six. He adopted his second tongue as the language to dream on. Widely published in several countries; prestigious anthologies include Men In The Company of Women, Penn International MK, Van Gogh’s Ear; been featured amongst the poets for the month December by Tupelo Press, Vine Leaves Literary Journal’s Best of 2014 and in various radio programs in Canada and USA; and collaborated with photographers for an exhibition in Venice and with performers for several audio publications. He once gave this answer to a question posed in an interview- “This morning a stranger on his seat next to mine in a public bus pointed out toward the sky and asked, ‘Does not the blue look like a child in a cradle?’This is the role of poetry in our society. Poetry is a tool to arrest the vast beyond within the canvas of personal experience. To limit the limitless so our thirst and longing for it remains unquenched. And hence I write.”He presently lives in Kolkata and writes poetry, fiction and scripts for short films when not engaged in his day job as a lawyer in the Calcutta High Court. He has previously authored a collection of poems titled The Circus Came to My Island.

Dr. Amit Shankar Saha, is a researcher,am1 reviewer, editor, story writer and a poet. In a previous avatar he was also a guest lecturer. His love for literature led him to obtain a PhD in English from Calcutta University. His research articles have appeared in anthologies and journals internationally such as those published from Purdue University (USA), Drew University (USA), Bordeaux University (France), etc. His short stories and poems have been published in books and periodicals both in India and abroad. He is also the co-founder and coordinator of Rhythm Divine Poets group. His website is http://sites.google.com/site/amitshankarsaha and he blogs at http://amitss6.blogspot.com

”The shimmer of the “Shimmering chimes”

 

”The shimmer of the “Shimmering chimes”

Maaya Dev is one of the major contemplative voices of modern India.maya dav She is an eminent, erudite poetess who has the international recognition when it comes to poetry and the book under review is her very debut Anthology.

“The holy dawn dreams

Somewhere with the yawns of the universe

Let me unfold to a new day

Let the sunflower kiss the sun

To welcome the shimmer of the “Shimmering chimes”

                                                                                    ~SHAMSHER~

  These were the verses that got scribbled as soon as i grabbed the book “shimmering chimes” and looked at its cover page. The contemplative, soothing, magnificent cover page in itself is asking sheer poetic brilliance to manifest. It can be a vital source of perennial flow of springs in the garden of poems, planted by soulful poets-The most sensitive of human being. The title shimmering chimes goes as deep in the labyrinth of heart as the sun’s rays falling on the sea. The hallmark to leave an imprint in the reader’s heart was obvious even without unfurling the glossy pages ahead. But then the wheel had to move on ….

Again, the very next page was boldly emblazoned shimmering chimes as though if signing over with one’s own poetic fervor and zeal to keep up the continuum.

Chivalry and humility can well be seen with the dedication that the poetess have made

I dedicate this book to’

Entire Uni-verse’

…because of which this book is seeing light”.

She have reflected the modesty of Indian culture, of her soil, of her being and it’s then that Sanskrit verse of hitopadesa see’s the light-  in act, in discipline ,in one’s culture through her verses

विद्या ददाति विनयं विनयाद्याति पात्रताम्

पात्रत्वाद्धनमाप्नोति धनाद्धर्मं ततः सुखम्

After the dedication, the impressive foreword that can leave readers at awestruck is written by two notable prolific dignitaries (Ravi Subramanian & Dr. Santosh Bakaya) of our time.  (P.no 7-15)

Author too spoke from her desk speaking about the book vehemently, of different aspects and connectivity with readers. She has deeply expressed her gratitude to one and all.

This volume of sixty poems is circumscribed uniquely in its own way not to be labeled and goes simply beyond few words of reviewing. It’s something which needs a meditative approach to get into its soul. There can’t be any taxonomy wherein the poetess work can be defined as it swirled, danced and prophesized vehemently with an unperturbed flow like one’s own breath. The sheer poetic brilliance and aura that leaves no space other than wondering, pondering, praising, enjoying, feeling is commendable.

As an ardent devotee of Lord Krishna her very first poem “Hare Krishna” (p.no 25) reflects and leaves an imprint of her undying love and faith towards Krishna or in a broader domain her spirituality that fills the void of space and time that maps anything and everything. I can’t stop myself from citing something that concretes my aforesaid and her poetic prowess along with her undying love towards Krishna.

“There I see you! I see me!

Ah! I see me in you!

Hare Krishna!!”

There is no element of separation between the divine Krishna and an immaculate soul. Krishna my lord (p.no 60), Sat Chit Ananda – Bliss (p.no 62) further reinforce her own love towards Krishna and in a broader domain a cosmic whisper. All these poems weren’t merely spiritual poems solely but somewhere they have the power to take the readers on to a cosmic journey through revelation of meta-physical concepts, co-relation and ramification of self through these verses. Divine transformation (p.no 65) implicitly intrigues us of acquiescence as of Shrimad Bhagwad Gita Saar.

She says “Sometimes how much I love to let myself,

Plunge into the abyss of your bluish oceanic love,

Where I swim in the ecstatic bliss of unknown joy. “ 

 Moving further is the enlightenment of one’s own journey as a seeker wherein in-depth revelation of seeker and self is unveiled. The metamorphoses of self as a seeker seeking SELF can well be seen in the “Beacon of Enlightenment (P.NO 26)”. The flow and picturesque of the verses itself is soothing and enlightening.

The theory of Feminism and of its different contextual perspectives have always been the core and soul of many a poets, researchers and scholars. Author Maaya dev have captivated the essence of mysticism of a woman and no wonder she have embossed it with the title “A Living Enigma” (P.no 27). She have articulated woman as a mystery, as a beauty, as supremacy, and so on and forth in a stupendous way.

The spirit and esteem of being a woman and for a woman is well running into the nerve and verve of poetess and in her verses. The vibe in this poem is in itself meticulously exhibiting her poetic prowess and her spirit.

 A peep into her own verse from “A living Enigma”

“Her veil is mystic, demure,

Concealing rhythm of all seasons.

Woman’s love is perennial

Her emotions volatile, ajar. “

A Poet’s heart is his/ her poems as its not only craftsmanship but living of (in) or for those moments again and again or as some longings. What a conceiving Birth of a poem ” (p.no 28) which speaks of piousness and integrity of poetic aura wherein poetess considers  her work as alive as she herself .  

Romanticism or precisely and purely spiritual romanticism coupled with and integrated with the depth of contemplation, introspection are the base wherein some beautiful poems are weaved majestically. “Beloved soul “(P.no 93), “what if?” (91), “A beautiful journey(p.no 69) are some of them. She is well aware of the the power of ‘shunya’ and there she says:

“Beloved soul….

We revel in the nothingness to merge as whole

We coalesce in perfect unison

To stay beyond as lovely twin souls.”

 A deeper perspective of what it takes to be a poet can well be seen with an unfathomable depth and poetic divertissement. Though the poems are crafted on different echelon, some soft, silky and light, other richly textured, intense and adroitly composed but all are in corroboration of the author’s integrated thoughts of being a poet. Yes, it’s not easy to be a poet, as it’s far beyond just weaving of words. In fact, its self-actualization and self-realization and all these have been well put forth by the author.  “Poetic Glance” (p.no 90),”Unwritten poetry” (P.no 81), “Twinkle Twinkle my little poems “(P.no 79),”World of words” (P.no 77) are some such poems which speaks immeasurably the quest, trajectory, feelings and sentiments attached with being a poet, with one’s own words and of course, the deeper revelation of its beauty and power to unfold the secrecy of life and existential. Her love towards word can be witnessed from the poem world of words (p.no 78) where she coalesce with the world of words and penned down

“World with words- A world of Illuminations!

World without words – An eerie of grave silence!

Oh Words! I bow in front of thee! “  .

At some point while going through all her poems on a communal basis, somewhere I felt it as to be another discipline, another poetic allied dimension to the discipline of ‘ontology’. She was unveiling of herself, of her being, of her flow and somewhere was reaching to the dominion beyond, where she and her verses were in perfect coalesce . Throughout the book her whisper of emotions, sentiments and feelings were seeking, signifying, soothing and were taking different leaps and bounds of different height. There is scaling, de-scaling, rhythm, beats, nodes and somewhere all these are resonating to form rainbows riveted in words. She was into some kind of introspection, meditation, contemplation and with some sense of immortal flow to merge up self with divine flow. Dripping with divinity, wrapped with emotions, punched with her prowess she was baffling into her own world.

“Beyond my reach

Lay a world of dreams

My arms fall short                  {“Beyond, P.no 88}

Yet they try to reach

To grab those glitters”

What good is of poetry, if it’s not felt and if it’s without any soulful purposes? And arguably, with convictions she has tried to fill all the bases upon which poetry stands in a reflective and broader way, if it intends to serve any serious purposes at all, objectives other than enjoyment or entertainment. Her clarion call as a poetess can well be dissected with the poem “Ability beyond Disability (P.no 33), few more Rejections (P.no 35), Symbol of Transition (P.no 71), Humdrum of that green valley (p.no 73) and Womb’s doomsday (P.no 75). As an illustration of her heartfelt and compassionate writing, let me recap her own verses,

“In its volatile firth,

‘Able is labeled as disabled’.

Though the destined journey can’t be impeded  

When ability beyond disability reigns “

And again she says

“As a phoenix risen from hopeless life

They sail through invisible wings with a will “.

{Ability beyond Disability}

Her verses are refreshing, soothing breezes that have somewhere a healing power too. The above poem is a great tribute to all those special kids of Almighty.

On the façade of living as a writer and facing rejections she has wonderfully weaved a magical poem.

She says:

“On the eternity of time

A writer lives enliven moments.

He lives alone listening

to the chimes of his own ode.               

Daily he carves for pet statuette

Out of his poetic strokes.

So, one day he swirls like Rumi

In euphoric ecstasy.”

  {Few more rejections}

 Impermanence is the only permanence in this world. The different streams and flow in our journey takes different transitions and strides. Her vivid capture on transitions is well marked in her heartfelt poem “Symbol of transition “

“This heart wrenching glimpse

Sought my attention in a weird way

When I saw him clutching something unusual

It devours my curiosity to dig the unknown,

What he is so possessive and scared of loosing?  

Yes I saw! It is a medallion he held so closely

That unveils his glorious past even in shabby state.”

(Symbol of transition, P.no 71)

 Nature remains the most prominent, protruding and fascinating theme of almost all the poet since time immemorial. There is no degree of doubt that nature beguiles her.   Poetess Maaya Dev seems to be euphorically in dalliance with nature and with the same spirit and zeal as of the nature’s poet William words worth.  ‘Rendezvous with nature’, ‘Oasis’, ‘Autumn Moon’ are some few picks from the spectral domain of nature which captivates and somewhere have the power to carry the readers to feel the bliss of nature.

Apart from all the fancy amalgam of a poet’s imagination, she also has the sublimity towards society, nation and mankind. ‘A Plight of mother India’ speaks in volumes of the vastness that she feels for Mother India.

With a lucid, compelling and powerful vocabulary this book has enough of food for thoughts. There is a deeper analytical meditative touch to all the poems and I will be leaving further for the reader’s to have their own opinion on the ground.

I will love to wrap the review of this wonderful book with book’s own blurb that precisely and aptly describes the book in totality.

“Shimmering Chimes is an outcome of dreams that we all dream solemnly and each poem is pebbles collected from the shore of imaginations, experiences, feelings, spirituality, love and almost what all encompasses life. The book is seeking, soothing, symbolizing, synthesizing, singing, shining, shivering, surviving, and synapse between shimmering and chimes.”

   Shimmering chimes by Maaya Dev

“Maaya Dev’s debut Anthology –‘Shimmering Chimes’ is a potpourri of priceless poems of different shades and colors. Sprawling with ontology, spirituality, philosophy, meta-physics, patriotism this book traverses and smells the petrichor of soil, the extravaganza of nature and is in dalliance with Author’s dream of acquiescence.  As a debut anthology it won’t be any hyperbole, if I dare say with conviction that ‘This book is a tour de force’ “.

Rating: 5/5

Shimmering Chimes /poetry collection/Maaya dev/Authorspress, New Delhi, Sep 2015/ISBN 978-93-5207-110-4/Pages 93/RS 195/$10

 Recommendations: “This book shouldn’t be missed at any cost.”

Thank you all for your patience full reading.

Book reviewed by: Shamsher Singh   ( An engineer, poet, critic, Reviewer )