Jaydeep Sarangi It’s my dream, My hungry heart can swallow The whole world Of poems and rhymes. I can arrange the dreams Of Indian youth In indigenous ink, A narrative that lay bare to readers. I don’t know how what you feel And what makes you weep. I only reconstruct your stories And flimsy history.
Tag: poetry
Ingress
Dr Kathryn Hummel University of South Australia Australia I pretend this mirror grants wishes and look back on myself as Alice, with brown hair mussed prettily by insomnia. I wish not to be the reflection, You, holding your boar bristle brush like a potential punishment with your look, somehow, of quality like a closed-heel shoe….
Dr. Dora Sales
Literary translator, Senior Lecturer in Translation Studies (Spain) Department of Translation and Communication University Jaume I 12005, Castellón, SPAIN In literary studies, as in many other realms, generally we seem to move around a Eurocentric orbit that broadly forgets any tradition of literature outside it. It is a pity to note the lack of communication…
Mirror with a Memory
Antonia Alexandra Klimenko 6 rue Cesar Franck 75015, Paris, France Light enters me from both directions; I cannot look the other way– my eyes—two flashing cameras—are everywhere. Fish float on them; birds and butterflies swim deep in their reflection. The moon flickers under their fixed lens. Now, she is two. Memories ooze from burnt out…
Sylvia Plath: of Post-Colonial Time, Space and ‘other’
Yajnaseni Mukherjee Assistant Professor School of Humanities Schools of Technology KIIT University Bhubaneswar, Odisha-751024. The poetry of Sylvia Plath has often been labeled as ‘confessional’. Slapped with this label, the critics have not deigned to look beyond the obvious. A series of quotations and explanations at the beginning of the paper will justify the statement….
MY FRAGMENTS
Neelam Saxena Chandra Something in me is shattered like broken pieces of mirror, something in me is wrecked like a ship lying worthless, something in me is destroyed like hay charred in sun, something in me is crushed like stones under a road roller, something in me has ruptured like a broken vein… fragments of…
Implicit and Explicit Voice of Protest in the Poetry of A. K. Ramanujan
Dr. Kalyani Dixit Asst. Prof. in English DAVPG College Lucknow. A. K. Ramanujan is the author of fifteen books that include verse in English and Kannada, among them The Striders was a Poetry Society Recommendation, and Speaking of Shiva was nominated for a National Book Award. He was honored with the Padma Sri in 1976…
The Nothing that Returned
Jeffrey Williams It was to return Mightier than ever With vengeance and determination To destroy all that dares question it All that disobey its ruthless abandon I remain stubborn Intensely stubborn No fear for this mortal I stood in its path Arms stretched Eyes clinched tight Waiting for its wrath Then it came with the…
Les chansons tristes
Dušan Gojkov Translated from Serbo-Croatian by Danijela Kambasković – Sawers the vernal I know that the poplar beneath your window is shooting young leaves and that the magnolias and tulips across the road are in blossom yet I give your street a wide berth as, gods knows why, I remember the beautiful vow we made…
POETRY SHOULD
Durlabh Singh. Poetry should move some Beyond the statistics Not symptoms in dead ends Enclosed within cornets Murmuring of numerous An elaboration perhaps For the entangled dictions. The spirit moves From end to end In fastidious freedom Some instructs to convey I heard it singing other day By a black birds in transit. What the…