Dr. Neena Sharma Every poet has his own idea of writing poetry. This paper focuses on the conception and twin purpose in the poetry of Robert Frost. In his concept, poetry displays marriage of mind and emotion. The combination of mind and emotion is deepened in to the poet’s mind. In his conception of poetry,…
Tag: poetry
The Themes of Love and Sex in the poetry of Sylvia Plath and Kamala Das
Monsoon Showers
Quest
A Guarded Secret
Sunil P. Narayan USA Īshwar and his lover saved Bhūmī-Devī from persecution, thus the many arts of mankind blossomed like the mallikā Everywhere the delightful scent of Svargáloka encircled the minds of unimaginative men and women Thrusting them into a fantasy of a guarded jungle with celestial flowers and rivers endlessly flowing towards the sunset!…
A Lonely Morning
Pavel Barakhvostov Minsk, Belarus A lonely morning sitting with me on a sill watches clouds roam from the drowsing east at dawn they float past bringing in their rags if not oblivion then still a blizzard meek God in a whisper of your landscapes you are talking to us unaware of time and distance immutable…
Sidewalks Some Times
L Douglas St Ours Maryland, USA Sometimes I like urban sidewalks and the smell of petrol in the air pandering politicians on the run for fuck off cabbies under the gun circling cuddled lovers huddled for fun past panting painters posing poets rolling marbles off the alleys of the wise plastic people in our database…
Reading “Old Heart”
–For Stan Plumly David Parsons Montgomery, Texas I have been diving into your heart for weeks now like some lone bear returning to a kill not always directly— meandering through your Meandering through trees that are rivers—branches, alive with Magpies and Blue Jays, many, many Jays, and Spirit Birds taking me to more water, streaming…
Lightning Caulks the Sky
Clouds accordion and flash a wet promise, sweat and grime layered on skin, bones collecting thunder. City sidewalks over-ripe with chalked stats, the night thermals steam inside marrow as you press an ice cube to your throat and watch the midnight parade sitting outside café neon, dank cloth on skin waiting for the glimmer robes…
Sacred Yearning
Aparna Raj Mukhedkar Houston, Texas An embryonic incongruity. I grow from something to nothing. A dot, a flicker, now active cells churning, a macrobiotic mass bound, in concert with the human body. Pedagogic malfeasance committed with certain knowledge, then incinerated to a plume of dust and ashes fed to starving horses, their majestic manes glowing…