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supratik's (supratik on UKA) UKArchive
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Driving home a message (posted on: 22-07-16)
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The world has dressed to destroy itself. 'You're wrong They're wrong', ringing everywhere with nuclear power. Isn't it that fear is their only savior? Issues much the same LOW war; On land, oil and water. 'A lesson must be taught' Age-old urge of the game to amass the resources of the world. There is none to break the cycle. Powerless before our own Intelligence, we are to witness the debacle with nescience camouflaged as Sense. we will expect a messy miracle! If words could redress the stage, bonhomie would cease to be strange. 'We're all right' written everywhere; the world to be alive in the air. Minds would dissolve the cage, create the Home to rewrite the Page. Edited by Nic (ifyouplease)
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In search of... (posted on: 22-07-16)
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I am in search of a pair of hands, Who can bring the world to a screeching halt Drown the countries into irrecoverable fiscal loss Where growths and developments would disappear by default. I condemn all wars. I condemn all condolences. I am in search of a pair of eyes, Who would severe from us those insipid lies Show us how we failed those hard-earned profits Clouded our intelligence, and declined peace. I condemn all wars. I condemn all condolences. I am in search of a down-to-earth mind, Who could bring to book our unforgivable fault To flaunt power with weapons of every kind To dote on the enemies whom we with pride assault. I condemn all wars. I condemn all condolences. I am in search of a leader who'd stop every work, Would lead defaulters into all countries' jails Governments and governance would utterly fail Until peace is found in this beautiful world. I condemn all wars. I condemn all condolences.
Archived comments for In search of...
Savvi on 26-07-2016
In search of...
I really like the sentiment here Supratik and not a big fan of the repeat I think that since you have it as the titles it doesn't need to be used again. Best Keith

Author's Reply:
Thanks Keith for stopping by. No defence, except that we are not a fan of the repeat. Best. Supratik


Are you listening. (posted on: 15-07-16)
An insane wish to combat insanity: Like Gandhi's civil disobedience, we need global disobedience now. Disobedience to work. If the whole world stops working, peace talks, condolences and weapons will not have energies. Leaders have failed us, so the onus is now on us. So it's an appeal to the 'people' of all the 233 beautiful countries: STOP going to work, stop earning money and churning filth for the war-mongers, learn to survive without salaries, stop going to malls...let this be the ONLY GLOBAL entertainment, engagement and occupation. Everything will collapse back to senses, if we stop working, poor are not going to get any richer. Let's do it. You just might enjoy the French version too in the following link: http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2016/07/are-you-listening.html

The world fuming. logic fails logic, intelligence, Intelligence Weak, insecure power is the old grass that needs to cower attention adverse. A messiah, a budhha, a jesus perhaps can save the inhabitants from the disastrous flow of livid energies. Let all businesses stop let the world halt, take a reflective break; a much needed pause from the meaningless profit and loss an account that sucks life coagulates the flow of the wind and the water. The drum beats in us, in isolation, The world's all set to commit suicide. A total collapse of communication with lifeless towers lurking to mint freezing funds in the name of technology that through gaps grunts. Born messiahs, are you listening. This time when you come in any recognizable shape or form don't be an author, please what we need here is to page for peace. But then searching for what we already are? An engaging job for those messiahs! Let those magicians perform their miracle, the sole reality, let it come alive let sense turn the history's page deliver the world from its juvenile cage and find wealth and solace it's seeking in the outer space.
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Insignia (posted on: 11-07-16)
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Labels and tags foaming all around with a pungent smell, onerous sound. Nausea stereotype lifeboats in sight, the ocean is chained and bound froths of gags flowing from those wrights ceaselessly upon me, in me through wordy days and nights. Dissatisfaction is a given to the rich and the poverty-stricken the confused, unused 'I' wants to untie, shred blossoms that blight sliver feathers that don't fly. The vast blue pollutes in designs that which could have embraced the sky.
Archived comments for Insignia
sweetwater on 14-07-2016
Insignia
Beautiful words here, I like it very very much. Sue. 🙂

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much for your kind words. Much appreciated.

Since the time we are born, we get muddled into labels (nationality, race, caste) and tags (possession, viz. cars, etc; professions, viz. doctor with an Indian degree or an FRCS, engineer etc. to say that the list is endless) As a result of this the real 'I' gets hidden, clouded, covered, unexposed, unexplored. 'Dissatisfaction' has to be the inevitable, inexplicable byproduct, irrespective of class, caste and creed (those labels and tags). So what seems as an advantage, something we flaunt becomes the trap. We are all unhappy in some way or the other. However, this unhappiness is not the nature of the 'I' at all. The real 'I' which is only preached in the so-called religions seldom gets a chance to apply (bloom or fly) itself. It's only when we realize this, we can, as oceans heavy and bruised with showoff of wealth can embrace the sky, light and feathery and happy, yet all inclusive as ever. In the poem, I tried to use ocean and sky as a metaphor; ocean for people who are trained from childhood to be labelled and tagged and the sky as those who break free from it.
I am glad you liked the words. Supratik


Writing different stories (posted on: 04-07-16)
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Wind The nearby pool shivers, The tree flutters, The meadow shimmers; Each, writing a different story With its waters, leaves and blades An essay is written on the time-stage The draft escapes the eyes Stays in the pool, with the tree, upon the meadow Breaths of life live in the pages Moving moments of experience On that stage of time Writing different stories. Version proposed by Nic (ifyouplease) Draft The nearby pool shivers, The tree flutters, The meadow shimmers; Each telling a different story With waters, leaves and blades. An essay written on the time-stage The draft escapes the eyes Stays in the pool, with the tree, upon the meadow
Archived comments for Writing different stories
stormwolf on 04-07-2016
Writing a different story
Absolutely beautiful Supratik.
Yes, all nature is alive and speaks. They tell a story. Sometimes just among themselves and sometimes to those of us with ears to hear.
It's one of the reasons I like working with crystals.
They are record keepers that have many tales to tell and many are millions of years old. They have seen so many earth changes. The Native Americans call stones the stone people. They understand that the wind has a voice as you do too.
One of your best works in my opinion.
Alison x
The title was perfect too btw.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison! Yes stones have always attracted me because they have stories written/hidden in them. Humans have a strange relationship with stones, we do form stones inside us... in bengali, when the body feels heavy, we say my body has turned into a stone.
Yes I did devote some time in re-arranging the content and the words and it is heartening to see when poets of your stature appreciate the work. Thanks for the rating. Supratik

gwirionedd on 04-07-2016
Writing a different story
This is excellent, Supratik. A very clever poem.

You are comparing wind to an essay, which is particularly intriguing in the line: "The draft escapes the eyes".

At first I thought you had just spelt the word wrong, meaning a draught of wind, but when I read it again, I saw it could just as easily be the draft of an essay. If this is deliberate, then it is an incredibly clever pun.

In case you didn't know, draught and draft are pronounced the same but draught means a gust of wind, whereas a draft is an early copy of a piece of writing. That's British English. In American English, both meanings are spelt the same way, as "draft". The Americans like to simplify things!

I should say that "an essay writes" doesn't work, unless you say "an essay writes itself". Alternatively, you could say "an essay is written" (the passive).

Also, regarding the last line (and the title). If I understand the meaning correctly, then the grammar again doesn't work. You mean more than one story, right? Then it should be plural, "writing different stories".

All the best and very well done.

Archie.




Author's Reply:
Yes yes drought and draft have the same transcription, and in the British English draft also means wind other than what you rightly said. I pray you read 'an essay writes' again overlooking grammar... I tried with the passive part but was unable to hold the expression for long. If you considered functions of language, 'an essay writes' can be allowed to have the value (valeur) of passive. I am changing the title...thank you. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 05-07-2016
Writing different stories
I agree, one of your best. My only criticism is the use of the word 'The' quite so much in the beginning.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks Mike for stopping by. Yes I don't like it either, but if I don't use the determinant, the grammarians will smirk and say ah it's his second language, poor fella... so :-)) Cheers...Supratik

gwirionedd on 05-07-2016
Writing different stories
The thing is, my friend, an essay can never write anything. To suggest that it can, sounds very strange. An essay is an object which is written by the subject, the essay-writer. "An essay is written on the time-stage" sounds absolutely fine to me.

If you wanted to be slightly more inventive with language, you could say "an essay writes itself on the time-stage". This would be the only situation where an essay could possibly (figuratively) write anything. For example, if you are writing an essay on a theme that already really interests you and that you know a lot about, you might say "the essay is writing itself"...




Author's Reply:
I looked at all the probable synonyms, but you are cruelly right, so I succumb. Thanks!
And thanks for the Hot Story! 🙂

ifyouplease on 06-07-2016
Writing different stories
i don't know about the second stanza, i don't think you need it. saw it all without it.

it is a very good poem

yeah, i think you could definitely cut the second stanza omit the word wind and use it as a title instead

Wind's draft

The nearby pool shivers,
The tree flutters,
The meadow shimmers;
Each telling a different story
With waters, leaves and blades.
An essay written on the time-stage
The draft escapes the eyes
Stays in the pool, with the tree, upon the meadow

Author's Reply:
Thanks Nic!
And what a beautiful way of re-writing the poem! I am touched. I am writing a poem called 'the panic button'... please let me know if i could send it to you first.

Gothicman on 07-07-2016
Writing different stories
Yes, Supratik, a poem giving full consummate joy in its beautiful simplicity, and turned into perfection by Archie, and IYP's uncanny ability to improve work further. How we need too these more spiritual and lyrical gems away from more conventionally expressed work. Feels refreshing, lovely read!
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Thank you so much.
Supratik

ifyouplease on 07-07-2016
Writing different stories
sure you can send your poem, thanks for receiving the comment in such a gentlemanly and mature way.

Author's Reply:
Thank you. Sure I will. Supratik

gwirionedd on 07-07-2016
Writing different stories
Or maybe just call it "Draft"...

Author's Reply:
Yes I agree more on either of the two as they are also synonyms. Thank you.

stormwolf on 07-07-2016
Writing different stories
Hi again Supratik,
I think the amendments suggested by Nic to be incredible!
If it gets amended I would like to nominate it but no pressure! lol
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison! Cheers!
Supratik

sweetwater on 10-07-2016
Writing different stories
I loved this, but then I would, you have written about the nature I call my friend, and how she will share her secrets with us if we care to listen. Beautiful write. Sue x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue! Thank you very much. Supratik


Everything falling in place (posted on: 27-06-16)
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Strange that now we are talking more. Papers need to be signed, Properties to be apportioned; Memory is bankrupt and poor I travel the city we left long ago I saw the bank from outside, the yellow door we opened our first joint account even before we tied the knot went to the hospital where you delivered, spoke to the doctor who strangely showed me the room, its doors opened some twenty years ago to tell me I had a daughter 'Sir is everything all right', he exclaimed Yes I said everything is falling in place now. I went to the park, the fairs where my daughter would insist on every single joy ride that she'd see, the metro howled in me the journeys to her school, I saw at a glance the little steps that learnt to climb the escalator it is moving, just as it were. We are going to be strangers soon Memory is bankrupt and poor And I could see everything falling in place But strange I feel lighter than ever before For maybe now we'd talk more.
Archived comments for Everything falling in place
pdemitchell on 30-06-2016
Everything falling in place
For someone writing poetry in a second language, Supratik, you do amaze me! Wonderful homage to family life and obviously proud of your daughter in world where many regard daughters as a burden not a blessing. Mitch

Author's Reply:
Mitch, Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes I do somehow accept that English is my second language. Thanks once again. Supratik


Conversation (posted on: 13-06-16)
In the human world, conversation is, sadly speaking, masked; we are either conversing with a possession (ego) or with a position (ego). Real communication weeps, therefore, in the misunderstandings. This small poem is influenced by the BKs (Brahmakumaris).

I am talking either with a European, or with an Asian But seldom do I talk with you I am talking either with a chairman, or with a watchman But seldom do I talk with you I am talking either with a Mercedes, or with a bicycle But seldom do I talk with you I am talking either with a Christian, or with a Jew But seldom do I talk with you
Archived comments for Conversation
Elfstone on 13-06-2016
Conversation
An interesting read, but might I respectfully suggest that it needs a bit more to point the reader in the right direction? I wasn't quite sure what you are trying to put across, particularly by the "not to you".
I think you have a typo in the second last line - "taking"? Elfstone

Author's Reply:
Dear Elfstone, Thank you for stopping by. I have added an introduction for a better understanding and have also changed the typo rightly pointed out. I do not think the 'not to you', however confusing it might be, can be changed. Respects. Supratik

pdemitchell on 14-06-2016
Conversation
I get more sense out of a bicycle sometimes. Sometimes our role in life is constricted by these gossamer webs of misunderstandings. Paul

Author's Reply:
Thank you. You bet! Supratik

Ionicus on 15-06-2016
Conversation
I am sorry, Supratik, but this message does not come across.
It may resonate in the original language but it loses its meaning in translation.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Ionicus for commenting. Will try and re-work on this later. For the time being please allow this version which has not been translated. Best. Supratik

Please see the changed version when you have the time.

ifyouplease on 29-06-2016
Conversation
and when we kick the bucket we cannot see all the traps this Recognizably Alien Ego has designed to keep us hooked on reincarnating to no purpose.

Author's Reply:
That's exactly what it is. You have said it so precisely. Thank you.


Beliefs (posted on: 06-06-16)
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It's a civilized world. Struggling in systems, obsolete machines stink, rust yet run and govern while in the background; a green-room, or a battlefield music throws up: Change change change sound like chained words. Paintings panic, cemented cemetery burns in the sun, cries. In the enslaved mind, beliefs with stony eyes don't bend, nor blend, they cannot even blink. Open page with known ends stares blankly at the white moon.
Archived comments for Beliefs
ifyouplease on 07-06-2016
Beliefs
you know what there is something amazingly good about this poem, it certainly has the absolute expression of human existential agony. i think it's good.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much... am glad you liked it.

pdemitchell on 07-06-2016
Beliefs
Namaste, Suparatik! I know English is your second language but that can bring a new interpretation to words and their juxtapositions and context. The white moon and a blank page are a perfect simile... well done, my friend! Mitch

Author's Reply:
Hello Mitch...thank you.

sweetwater on 09-06-2016
Beliefs
I have read this many times, and the more I read the more I 'see' in your words. The third verse particularly stands out to me, 'paintings panic, cemented cemetery' and ' stony eyes don't bend, nor blend' very nice. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much for your kind words. I cannot resist telling you that it took me some hours of struggle to get this version. Thank you once again. :-))


Haven (posted on: 03-06-16)
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From the womb upon the earth, Destination takes newer births. Nights and days roll and scroll, Foundation changes from parts to whole. Journey with the points pause and continue Three friends forever tied anew Harbor a canvas, end a lie Hues in painting rave and aye.
Archived comments for Haven
Mikeverdi on 05-06-2016
Haven
Could I suggest a few words of introduction, as I have no idea what this is about. I always enjoy reading your work, just would be better able to comment critique if I understood the thrust of it. This may only apply to me of course, I can be a little dim at times.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike for stopping by. Yes I do admit it's complicated. I was trying to talk about destinations through which we pass, from the unconscious to the conscious; wonder if we ever thought of womb as our destination until we were thrown out, quite happily though, upon the earth. Destination takes different forms, physical, spiritual or whatever you call it until we reach death. Is death the final destination the poem wonders. The three friends referred to are points a and b as respectively the starting and the ending points of any journey and the journey itself.
Cheers
Supratik

sweetwater on 05-06-2016
Haven
Well like Mike, I don't understand the meaning behind your words, but I did enjoy reading this, and I love the way it sounds like a very clever cryptic clue in a treasure hunt. Sue.

Author's Reply:
I tried to explain in Mike's response. Thanks for your lovely and kind comments. Supratik


Precious (posted on: 30-05-16)
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I wish I'd be in your warmth, death for a moment worth a thousand beat meaningless, meaningless I wish I'd be in your eyes, wiped out in your cast rated countless kens feckless, feckless I wish I'd be in your spell, split in a trance rise and fall at your will priced a myriad trice pointless, pointless.
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Who is this (posted on: 25-04-16)
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Without my bits my being exists Sounds, lights, beats I hear and see, sleep and wake All of which for organs' sake But in burning delight they matter least Without them I know I'd still exist In who am I lies who is this
Archived comments for Who is this
Gothicman on 27-04-2016
Who is this
I think it's your "bits" that allow you to exist, Supratik! But, yes, I suppose you don't need body- or organ-awareness to retain the experienced sensation of being - until when you're old, body-sensations don't ever let up, except when asleep or being nagged by the missus! A good bit of existential fun though!
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you Trevor for such a beautiful summary. Yours, Supratik


The ditch (posted on: 04-04-16)
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The ditch In my room, I am free not searching for any key. A word in my heart speaks of a thousand years. The winds come looking for me through the line of light below the door I did shut it close. Now no more Still I am in the same room, on the same floor under the same roof, I welcome sands and dusts, they hit and caress my face I smelt water, sensed it coming with them, every single day I chased my shadow unknowingly, overlooking my self just as the borrowed breaths through my inert breathing ran after me fleecing the treacherous years holing my holed body. But I am out of the chase. A word in my heart speaks of a thousand years.
Archived comments for The ditch
Gothicman on 04-04-2016
The ditch
I like your freely written writing, Supratik, even while not being sure how "The Ditch" is represented here; being culturally tinged, they inevitable test the interpretive powers. I'm surprised that you, being a technically well-read academic engineer, haven't lost this ability to the curse of empirical exactness - if only this mental antidote would work so well for me!
Anyway, always a challenge, and enjoyed.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Thank you for stopping by. Later in my defense! Just understand, if you may, that the word ditch might also mean hole, or chase, besides the lack of understanding 'self' may just be the ditch... Supratik

stormwolf on 04-04-2016
The ditch
Hi Supratik,
This speaks to me of the pleasure in taking time out and not caring...You are happy for the wind and dust to find you.
You have been there / done that so to speak. You are taking yourself out of the race having worked hard. You are embracing your ancient self?

I may not be interpreting it properly. I am not so sure what exactly you are saying here
A word in my heart
speaks of a thousand years.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Interesting! Very interesting! Alison, will come back to you in detail. The refrain may not be a refrain... that's all for now. Supratik

pdemitchell on 04-04-2016
The ditch
one of your best thus far I think with a stop/start stocatto in placed that served the emphases well. "I did shut it close" is the only line that needs work as shut and close convey similar actions maybe "though I shut it tight" may be better and more emphatic. Excellent free-form. Mitch

Author's Reply:
Thanks Mitch. Much appreciated. Supratik

sweetwater on 05-04-2016
The ditch
For some reason I saw freedom in this poem, as if you were at one with the natural elements and happy to go where the winds take you, I apologise if I have it wrong, but right or wrong, I enjoyed your words very much. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much for your kind words. 🙂 Supratik

ifyouplease on 08-04-2016
The ditch
the same thing happens to the one that goes against his fate and the one who accepts his destiny.

death is our common fate.
isn't it?
engineering one's Identity trapped in the Self's main Selfish Identity over and over again for thousands of years...

Author's Reply:
Exact! Thanks Nic.


The buried pumpkin (posted on: 28-03-16)
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Mom went to Bangladesh, as an Indian, once a refugee. With animated street view, she found the house, and the stable garden with her stories. Huge backyard where she'd play with her siblings, friends. Divorced countries now. Separated, yet the same without ends. She was welcomed by the relatively new inmates. Just like them. At the end of the day well spent, what memento would you like from your house? She pointed at a golden pumpkin lying on the ground. She remembered her mother caressing her bruised knee When she fell off from that banyan tree, standing there, still there Unmistakably there She carefully took the vegetable. Her head moist, bent. Times flashed, times changed. She held the uprooted pumpkin in her arms. Held it gently in her palms Like a child, brought it home; to Kolkata, a sliced Bengal In her words, as she'd recall. We were thrilled to see the cute-looking guest from Bangladesh. Ah! Today's lunch! We thought. But we didn't say a word when we saw her burying it in her favorite inseparable space, she calls her kitchen garden.
Archived comments for The buried pumpkin
stormwolf on 28-03-2016
The buried pumpkin
aww a tender tale much enjoyed.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you. 🙂 Supratik

franciman on 28-03-2016
The buried pumpkin
A fine allegorical piece. I have memories of evacuating British nationals from Chittagong Harbour in the early 1970s onboard HMS ALBION. We were threatened, but never attacked, by Indian fighter jets. Strange days...
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:
Yes strange days indeed. Thank you for stopping by.

Mikeverdi on 29-03-2016
The buried pumpkin
Not familiar with the separation you write of, it took me a couple, of reads to get this. For me it's one of your best. The feelings so gently expressed of loss and pain I can only imagine. Europe hasn't escaped this over the years either.
Mike

Author's Reply:
I am really touched with your comment. You think it's one of my best probably because I was thinking of my mom while writing it. Listen it's a fact, she actually brought a pumpkin and buried it in the kitchen garden. We had many pumpkins.

pdemitchell on 29-03-2016
The buried pumpkin
A slice of (pumpkin) life and you can almost hear the dry rustling of the banyan trees... well done, Mitch

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much. Supratik


The purse (posted on: 21-03-16)
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Wars devour the treasure Of the global purse A shot so tender A curse so deep within; Grass attacks all human beings Nursed by weapons and wailing arms. We create armies So if time comes To warn the enemies We'd gun them down or be gunned at ease; This need in us did never cease Wars in brains nourish and nurse. Just a shift From the scripted verse Can change and drift The world to an outstanding zone; Weapons would wither from every bone Wars would oust to enrich the purse. History's horrors Hurling hearse Deaths and terrors Holy hells of gunning fear; Filth of faith failing the air Hissing humans' revenges rehearse. Weapons and wars! Are we slaves, blind Of these monster masters Since time, they've killed, clouded our Mind Wonder if Intelligence can help us in the rebirth; Of a weapon-less world, a war-free earth And recover the hidden wealth of the damaged purse.
Archived comments for The purse
pdemitchell on 22-03-2016
The purse
It is true - the world would know no hunger if we spent a day's arms expenditure on eradicating famine. Paul

Author's Reply:
Yes
Thank you

sweetwater on 23-03-2016
The purse
Very truthful, those that benefit from their greed in selling wars and weapons are no better than those who deal the death. But while we still have the greed nothing will change. Such a terrible situation well documented by your poem. Sue 🙂

Author's Reply:
Thank you so very much for your short and very precise interpretation. I am touched. Supratik

stormwolf on 25-03-2016
The purse
Those who manufacture false wars and set people against one another are in the final stages, their death throes...that is what makes them so dangerous.

We are going into a Golden Age but before that, perhaps the major cleansing.

People have become vain, narcissistic and shallow. However it is my belief that the human being is inherently good underneath it all.

Sadly, so many are now so far gone they are led like sheep to the slaughter.

Violence is ugly and an affront to The Source.

Blessings to you and yours Supratik.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison! I second every thought in every line of yours. Blessings yes, this is what I absolutely need. Yours, Supratik


Warcide (posted on: 21-03-16)
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Warcide I am war I am finally writing a note: Everybody is responsible for my death The last condolence Weapons are in pain Listen to their dolorous language Release them O Intelligence from your helpless caprice let them rest in peace the last condolence in silence with burning candles could smile adieu to them
Archived comments for Warcide
sweetwater on 23-03-2016
Warcide
Gosh, this is a lovely poem, considering the object is war I found it rather sad. I have read it several times and come to the conclusion it is your choice of words that hold the key to it's brilliance. It's going into my favs. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you dear Sue for choosing this as your favs. This is so encouraging. Supratik

stormwolf on 25-03-2016
Warcide
Your voice, calling strongly in what seems to be a wilderness.
Surely with SO many good people we know exist....war will be laid to rest one day?
Standing in solidarity from Scotland
Alison x












































Author's Reply:
Yes it will for sure. Thank you for showing your solidarity from your homeland. Supratik


Off to work (posted on: 18-03-16)
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Roaring waves A worker drinking tea. She stays in the slum, Beside the growing avant-garde mansion; It's soon going to touch the clouds, Talk to the sky. Quick She has to leave for work, for her Daily wage.
Archived comments for Off to work
Mikeverdi on 19-03-2016
Off to work
I get this, but I wanted more. There is a story still waiting in the wings.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike for stopping by. The story that's waiting is that she has to go again for earning her daily wage. She is busy building a house in which she will never stay...Song to the men of England...remember? 🙂

Mikeverdi on 19-03-2016
Off to work
So sorry, I thought I had it.....clearly I didn't. Makes more sence now.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Ah no! Why sorry mate! 🙂

sweetwater on 19-03-2016
Off to work
A poignant glimpse into another's world, well expressed. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you dear Sue.

pdemitchell on 20-03-2016
Off to work
Reminds me of the shacks in Bulgaria where the Black Sea resort workers lived on the hills above the seashore hotels. Paul

Author's Reply:
In India, it's everywhere. Beside every construction of state-of-rhe-art home, there is a slum... a display of kind, very very kind fiscal terrorism.

ParsonThru on 20-03-2016
Off to work
Sparing and full of imagery. Like Hockney's A Bigger Splash. Or maybe Edward Hopper. I remember seeing people waking up on the streets in Mumbai as I was going to the station for an early train. Some slept on the path outside the forecourts that they swept. That was 14 years ago. Not sure if it's still the same.

Author's Reply:
Hey I am honoured to have brought in view Hockney and Hopper. O yes, rest assured it's pretty much the same...somethings in India are ageless.


A common man (posted on: 11-03-16)
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Kitchen is burning The man has eloped from the man Inmates numbed Sympathetic wind brings food-smells Oozing from the neighbour's walls. Blankness has severed engagement Yet the onlooker life, waves cadence Words of the past do not feed the present Deeds of the yore cement the compulsive lent Memories counting moments. Love hasn't left, Lines do not speak of mediocrity And hormones secrete affection. Useless utensils lying on the table Like archaic words Stagnation is the only mobility Static rail lines moving the train From day to night and day again A predictable stability. All of this has made the man A faltered equestrian His inability to smile and talk Overshadowed his work An odd man out Lying flat on the ground A jelly fish Without fulcrum Gets no leverage from the field Has no knees No elbows His shameless eyes track the rainbows Calls the perpetually engaged, social horizon To fetch his pot of gold Lines lie, don't connect Sees faceless teeth everywhere More of teeth Clapping the performance Of the eloped man, leaving the man. Life, in rhythm gallops
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She has to go to work (posted on: 11-03-16)
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In the end, she'd die like every other lady. But today, while making her Sunday lunch with her comfortable, lazy hands an indolent course that takes time, she told she'd like to live in my lines. Taking a picture is easier, I thought a part of the shot. But she! To be covered in lines, How'd I write about the pounding of the heart that lied on the ground on that first slow evening drizzling on us facing the sky, or about the sweaty hand that willed to write the story of a prince and a princess, or about the smiles that moved the brooks but in time fell as brown leaves in the history of pages. Or She wants me to write about the present moment? She wants to die oh I see why. Please remember I'd never want to go to work. Women's liberation, economic independence Yes they're important, not for me. For good or bad, I'd like to lean withdraw money from the hidden wallet. Then the evening gently drizzled I recall as pleasant as a snowfall but forever to freeze as a broken promise. I see clouds stealing space in the sky, it will soon rain. Tomorrow, she has to go to work. She never reads my lines But she'd like to live in them, she said.
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Unnatural (posted on: 04-03-16)
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Computer virus, weapons Invented, marketed In the honeyed world. On the other hand Anti-virus industry, firewalls Talks on disarmament Beehive. Counter-productive relationships between countries safeguarded, Well-meaning persons intoxicated like the occupied bees. No stepping out from safe zones of expected behaviours.
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Threads of thoughts (posted on: 04-03-16)
some small poems...

15th August Independence day Smiling urchins flock at the signal to sell flags to car drivers A writer writes of rose smelling as sweet Unforgiving history Commemorates torture Celebrates freedom Labour Old wrinkled man Pulling the thhela* Carrying the burden *Wheelbarrow - a small cart with four wheels, two at the front and two supporting at the rear, used typically for carrying loads in building work or gardening. Poverty Poverty exists To feed the rich By design, for years Despite words and tears Urchins Children starve In unicef zones Mystery Ignorance is a safe zone So peace is a mystery
Archived comments for Threads of thoughts
pdemitchell on 05-03-2016
Threads of thoughts
A little piecemeal like a thumb twitching on a TV channel remote. It does stands on its own but it might be worth expanding each idea and obcervation into a new piece. Paul

Author's Reply:

pdemitchell on 05-03-2016
Threads of thoughts
A little piecemeal like a thumb twitching on a TV channel remote. It does stands on its own but it might be worth expanding each idea and observation into a new piece. Paul

Author's Reply:
Paul, Thank you. I'm afraid switching TV channels is a good idea. I have received similar comments on this. Let me see. Yours, Supratik

Bozzz on 05-03-2016
Threads of thoughts
The last three are priceless. I am not usually keen on very short poems, but clearly you love them and excel. Yours aye, David

Author's Reply:
Thank you David. This means a lot to me. Upon seeing someone appreciate something one is not keen on, I am touched... it seems like a vast opening for me... I could hear a hoooosh come in you different looking fella, come in. Yours, Supratik

Gothicman on 06-03-2016
Threads of thoughts
Yes, like Paul, see these as separate Lei flowers not quite forming a full necklace, but with beauty and/or wisdom even as stand alone items! Thought the last one could be a play on the idiom swapping mystery for "bliss"? I've never liked the use of "bold" in lyrical or finely worded text, seems to detract from aesthetics somewhat, and strangely doesn't make the reading effect more dramatic, too confrontative! Maybe a personal thing.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Thank you for stopping by. Let me respond to all the three observations one by one. Yes the poems are apparently disparate, but it is possible to find a link. However, I will try to give each one a separate space later.
No, I don't think it can be swapped with bliss because what we think as mystery is no mystery at all, it is as mundane, as trivial, as predictable as the rising and setting of the stars. We think peace is a mystery because we are still ignorant about it as a possibility. We have burdened human beings with a lot of anti-peace variables. Sometimes we compare ourselves with the animals without knowing how kind animals are, sometimes we think of enemies as a given....it is as natural as the air we breathe...no no no no noh.... enemies is unnatural...it is not in any part of nature... when intelligent people like you will understand this, it will be a child's play to restore peace.... please don't mind my saying no so many times... I said that with affection I pray you understand. Words play a major role in forming us...I think a thorough research is needed for words like animosity (I recommend enimosity), inhuman, etc. This is a vast subject and it is not correct to throw certain words that require human intervention and attention so loosely. Why not bliss... because we do not have any confusion with the word, but what we regard as mystery is not a mystery at all, it is our ignorance (maybe the word is unkind, I don't know how to say that...maybe our conditioned thinking) that looks at peace as a mystery.
Coming to your third observation, you have really opened my eyes. I have changed the highlighter. It is a very kind observation...bold is aggressive...thank you very much.
Yours, Supratik

ParsonThru on 20-03-2016
Threads of thoughts
I like these threads of thoughts.

Author's Reply:
Thank you.


Rains, a small poem (posted on: 29-02-16)
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Rains... An urchin draws smileys On the draining field
Archived comments for Rains, a small poem
Savvi on 03-03-2016
Rains, a small poem
I like the premise of this one Supratik but im not sure about the use of urchin it seems to close to sea urchin with the water theme and since the poem is a very honest image something more simple may fit. Best Keith

Author's Reply:
You are right. I don't know if the poem would be a senryu, but this is a common scene in India to see poor children having fun in the rains too. The couplet is more geography-specific. Best. Supratik


Colourful friends (posted on: 29-02-16)    
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Colourful friends I have a friend. He is black. I call him Blacky. Black is not bad I don't change him His colour, with euphemism For his kin, he's not sad. I am Browny; with colours, we don't fuss We also have a Whitey with us. One is fat, one is tall And one is short Us, we sometimes call Tally, Shorty, Fatty We don't feel proud, ashamed or dotty. We don't make amends Our looks is given for free Not how we look, but how we see Makes us outstanding friends. One goes to a church One to a mosque One to a temple But we know whom we pray Lives inside our hearts Is beyond the fence And if they ever met They wouldn't fight Like us, they'd simply be friends.
Archived comments for Colourful friends
franciman on 29-02-2016
Colourful friends
I Love this. It tells of an indomitable love and respect that transcends the bounds of religion, creed and colour. A complex subject, a beautiful child-like voice. Super. Oh, did I say I liked this?
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:
Thank you Jim for reading, loving, liking and rating the poem. You have summarized it beautifully. Supratik

Bozzz on 29-02-2016
Colourful friends
I agree with Jim, that the camaraderie is there and well expressed in the poem. The touches of slight variants in the English help to produce the image of togetherness as it clearly is. Excellently done Supratik. My best...David

Author's Reply:
David, Thank you very much for reading and commenting. And thanks a lot for the rating. Yours, Supratik

Gothicman on 29-02-2016
Colourful friends
As you know, Supratik, Winnie the Pooh, A bear, had friends too, including Piglet the Pig, Eeyore the Donkey, Kanga the Kangeroo, and Tiggy the Tiger, and I think your poem here, though well-written and well-intended, is about as likely and durable as a consistent truth as A.A. Milne's collection of fictional stories. Extremely idealistic and typical unfortunately of the resistant canker that will prevent Man's salvation! Oh how shall we spare the children from the already stricken's attempt to legitimate this insult to Nature and Man's ability to become truly and irreversibly civilised when faced with this type of incongruity? A well written poem, Supratik, but misleading and damaging in its messaging I fear.
Trevor

P.S. The colour of skin should of course have nothing to do with a person's worth or ability to be friends, this moral part of the messaging is sound logic and must be applauded, and possible once contentious belief-systems become accepted as unnecessary and obsolete by all?

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Interesting. Very interesting. To do justice to your well-thought-out response, let me start from somewhere that may not seem connected. The objective is to have the audacity to respond to the 'misleading and damaging' bit. Know that I also concur on this before you read on.
...
I am focusing on the friendship between two countries which will, at least this time, not cause insecurity to other countries. Five hundred years ago, there was this person called Obama who fought with a person called Putin. They are fighting now, and sure enough they will, five hundred years later. Can this be based on logic? It is the same mindset that puts all mothers of the world as good and all mother-in-law as you-know-what.
My question is, is there anyone, not a spiritual guru or allah or shiva or jesus, but anyone other than those, who will come forward and say hey guys you must be friends. Is there any intelligence that can bring see this friendship into fruition? The question is why, what is the need... if you asked me, I will not be able to give you an intelligent answer that could convince you, but I feel, yes I feel it is definitely going to help. This has to happen, not by force or compulsion, but through our ability to connect with Intelligence. Strange...it is strange that the much needed friendship also causes insecurities. Even at the micro level, if A is friends with B, then C is insecure...and it is this insecurity...yes this insecurity that causes havoc in the beautiful world. So much so that people who think of reaching an all around friendship to prosper and grow are rejected as idealists...and those who do that cannot be blamed. But step out....Trevor...step out.... and let's look at the possibility... one two three... step out... the world can function without causing harm to any other country. Yes, it is possible...and once, just once if the Intelligence of the world tastes this, everything will fall in place. There will be no terror, no horror...peace in the waters, in the trees, in the forests, and above all, in the minds of scared people. We just need to step out...just once. We have so far been childish, but there are people who are also urging us to be child-like.
We need healing Trevor...look at us...we are not even ready to consider this possibility, not even once. We are living the lives of whom then?
I am not a Mr-know-it-all...far from it. Not sure if anyone would be willing to buy it at all. Countries are buying weapons and flaunting them because that is the way we lived thousands of years ago...and that is the non-fictional way to function...yes it is, it absolutely is. With Intelligence can we ever step out from this I wonder.
No one is willing to accept defeat. In Hindi I accept defeat means 'har mani'...the sound is strangely close to harmony, as say the Brahmakumaris. Yours, Supratik

sweetwater on 01-03-2016
Colourful friends
I like this poem very much, it has a real moral message, such a simple one you would think, yet so many cannot manage to follow it. I like talking to people regardless of their colour, religion etc., and if someone comes from a different land I have so many questions I would love to ask, but daren't in case I inadvertently offend them. Such a shame that we can physically cross country borders but not race ones, but as you say much of this stems from things long ago.Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Sue for reading and commenting. I am really glad you liked the poem. It is for people like you that the world is a place worth living.
Yes it is a belief-system that is with us since time. Wonder if we could re-learn. 🙂 Supratik

Gothicman on 02-03-2016
Colourful friends
Good response and attempt to answer, but Supratik, giving everyone in the world an aspirin won't cure cancer, nor will argument using peace-philosophy stop causing this dissonant canker in, by Nature, finely tuned minds; early indoctrinated afflicted are beyond appealing to, or influencing by power of reason; Mankind's only hope is to stop psychical abuse of children in religion's name. It may be too idealistic too, considering we haven't been very successful in preventing sexual or violent abuse of children, but making it univesally illegal, and persistently trying to apply the law, is the only way forwards if we are to effectively adapt and survive, the mainstays of civilisation. A world that is objectively and freely spiritual would be refreshable and healthy, totally our responsibility in how well or badly it all works!
Religious education does not equate with being a good, loving, and responsible person. A consensus of real social ethics in upbringing is responsible for that, needing no other, especially supernatural, influences; not good for developing a healthy and effective brain either.
Yours, Trevor
I might sub one more work on the subject; you've provoked me! Hahaha!

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Would eagerly await the post. Yours, Supratik

Savvi on 03-03-2016
Colourful friends
Its all been said, but I just wanted to say well done and congrats on the Nom and Nib

Author's Reply:
Thank you Keith.

ParsonThru on 20-03-2016
Colourful friends
Lovely. And so true.

Author's Reply:
Thank you.


The untouchable (posted on: 26-02-16)
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The wind has sinned. It took ink from the sun Wrote stories on the sky What appeared as clouds Became visible with the moon Daylight is such a lie Thousand stories But whose stories are these Smiling, crying witness. And where are they placed Right in front of nowhere. And how old are they Light-years, or a day. In the middle of all these fictions, The wind, the only indispensable voleur The uncatchable offender Perpetually in medias res, yet out of sight The invincible, pure benefactor No matter what, unwinds.
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Gothicman on 26-02-2016
The untouchable
A fresh and much needed variation to poetry form, Supratik. Metaphorical use especially the breezing wind revealing the changing dynamics of ongoing Life, even able hopefully to bring with it new hope. Daylight, when that which is, is revealed, can be observed, often reveals itself as lies! I think "media res" should also be in italics? Enjoyed the poem.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you Trevor. I am glad you liked the form and could invariably catch the wind. Yes, I have changed the font of "medias res".
Supratik

pdemitchell on 26-02-2016
The untouchable
I liked this as a departure from your normal forms. It has been distilled down I feel as it is as effective as it can be. The first three lines sold it for me - almost a haiku. Well done, Paul

Author's Reply:
Thank you Paul. Thank you very much for the appreciation. Supratik


Gift (posted on: 12-02-16)
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Gift Civilisation's real change is to be free from wars, weapons arms and guns, when intelligence with skill undoes the need to kill, when armies shift their focus, enemies for good leave from our hearts, when insecurities perish, when poverty and hunger vanish. Rest, including reaching out to other planets is gifting a comb to the tonsured world.
Archived comments for Gift
Bozzz on 14-02-2016
Gift
Here is the direct message embodying your skilled work in many ways. Your gift, a comb to a world that is scratching its head as to what to do - well put my friend...David

Author's Reply:
Thank you David. I am happy that you could get it right.
Yes comb is the magic wand with which we have caused the debacle instead of miracle. Tonsured is a choice (volition) that human beings have faithfully opted to barren the world. However, it's a miracle that we are all here. Human beings are so sweet (sorry I couldn't use a better adjective) to be choosing debacle staying right in the middle of miracle. Just a shift dear David...just a shift in the thought can re-create / re-write our history in a different way. We have been so loyal to war and differences that we don't seem to see the enormous possibilities of a trouble-free world. Everywhere, there is this self-created trouble. So in the middle of all this circus, gift that is ignored is a big question. I hope I am able to explain. Or may be I have confused... will try again later... I have this problem of explaining myself clearly in prose, I tremble in excitement and words do reflect that confusion. Excitement is of no use at all when it concerns changing our deep-routed ideas, that's the reason I am trying to connect with the vibrations of intelligence that is far more superior and 'auspicious'. If I talk about spirituality, I would run the risk of losing connection with a large section of intelligence which does not believe in spirituality and they wouldn't accommodate me because of spirituality's link with religiosity (although they are not the same). I wish that the Intelligence of the world see the possibility of looking beyond wars. If they do, everything will fall in place...on its own...everything, and the future progeny would read about wars only in books and wonder as to how it was possible that human beings were insecure of human beings and they would kill each other calling them enemies. This wonder can become the truth with a shift in the thought, a metanoia as they call it.
Best.
Supratik


in love (posted on: 08-02-16)
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Moon hides behind the gray curtains thick with tears I swerve and hold her from behind Not too sure though I seize the side as the beyond with the drape, a groaning mirror in front of us I could remember the tailor ... Holding her I must have meant a sorry else how did I receive her warmth some distance away from the frozen gloom ... The curtain falls we are in the dance performing on the slippery stage Light and sound our same world beholds
Archived comments for in love
pdemitchell on 08-02-2016
in love
Wonderful image of the lovers in the window moon-watching! I could remember the tailor looking at the suit in the mirror. Paul

Author's Reply:
Thank you Paul! Supratik

stormwolf on 09-02-2016
in love
Delightfully atmospheric with original imagery.
Liked the dancing on the slippery stage 😈

Alison x

Author's Reply:
I am glad you liked it Alison. Supratik :-))

Bozzz on 09-02-2016
in love
Enjoyed this one Supratik. Truly the moon does special things for you - you seem to regard it as your friend, but who is the lady and does she see it as her rival for your affections? I wonder! Yours, David
Thank you for your description of self - very interesting - I will be in touch - preferably by email. My address is Davidboswell@uwclub.net

Author's Reply:
David, I am glad you enjoyed reading the poem. Good question! Best. Supratik
Yes I would also prefer that, my address is supratiksen1@gmail.com


Grow up (posted on: 08-02-16)
Don't blame North Korea for flaunting weapons. Don't blame any country in isolation. All countries are insecure. Imagine! Insecure. Focus on this with intelligence and affection. The intellectual mindset that wars are a historic and trans-historic reality will be gone. Forever. Yes, it will be gone. Combine Frank Sanatra's 'All, or nothing at all' and Beatles 'Give peace a chance'...the world would see how a)easy and b) profitable it is to bring wars to books.

Wars, a delinquent game, it's nothing new With foolish weapons, far from witty Funny you know that pretty well too What a joke! You name a cannon Humpty Dumpty*! Get rid of wars, unleash peace Before you pull the girl From her wonderland and call A weapon as Alice! Get rid of weapons, unveil prosperity O adults! Please outgrow Tom and Jerry. Jokes aside, In killings there's no pride. When you create a weapon In your mind, a war is born. When you market a weapon Death warms up its horns. We're ordinary peoples of the world here, Our troubles don't seem to end, We die as martyrs most everywhere, Wonder when enemies, like adults, could befriend. Note: *From 1996 the website of the Colchester tourist board attributed the origin of the rhyme to a cannon recorded as used from the church of St Mary-at-the-Wall by the Royalist defenders in the siege of 1648. In 1648 Colchester was a walled town with a castle and several churches were protected by the city wall. A large cannon, colloquially called Humpty Dumpty, was strategically placed on the wall. A shot from Parliamentary cannon succeeded in damaging the wall beneath Humpty Dumpty which caused the cannon to tumble to the ground. Source: Wikipedia
Archived comments for Grow up
stormwolf on 09-02-2016
Grow up
Another poem filled with political commentary that encourages us to think.
My latest grouch is witnessing the powers that be calling all the unnatural storms and hurricanes now manifesting on this polluted planet by names. They really do think by giving them silly names they will seem more 'familiar' and nobody will join the dots and ask searching questions about HAARP and geo- engineering.
Alison X

Author's Reply:
Dear Alison,

Thank you very much for your response. The element of mistrust and insecurity is a virus that has affected the entire world. It is little wonder that North Korea is mimicking others by flaunting weapons. There is no shift... take sampling from the world as it was five hundred years ago, you can predict five hundred years hence. No change, and we talk about change with enemies as a given.

All countries are insecure. Imagine. We are insecure. And this insecurity is human, not natural in that we are not insecure because of nature, but because of humans what have you. Focus on this insecurity with intelligence and affection, you will have a different history behind you. Wars will be gone. The intellectual mindset that wars are a historic and trans-historic reality will be gone. Forever. Yes, it will be gone. Operas will have to change their content, candles will be used only for birthdays, poets will have to re-think on what to write. However, being without wars can veritably pose a threat to people from all walks of life. Ironically, war seems to be the reason of our existence... if there’s no war, then how do we live is the question of the Mind. We have the element of war in everything we do, either in the name of competition or in the name of gods and goddesses. Walls of mistrust are strong and impenetrable reflected in our daily lives as well. I don’t know if you have visited any corporate office these days... you will marvel at the amount of mistrust and insecurities, everywhere there are doors you have to swipe, even inside computers, there are brigades of firewalls. Any minister on the road is body-guarded by mistrust and insecurity. Tons of wealth abused in espionage and weapons. I say abused because I am silly Alison and I have no shame in saying that because Intelligence thinks there is a valid need for weapons and wars. We have never tried to crack the need for having weapons... what is the need... self defense? protection? From whom? And why! Where do we live now? It is vastly interesting, no less than a detective thriller. I don't believe in changing leaders frankly speaking, I will continue to tap as long as the Mind in the leaders doesn't change, and when it does, everything will become so easy. It will be like... o god...did we really use weapons...did we really have wars...did we really spend money on security and self defense. Deep inside we also know that weapons are like toys, else why name a cannon Humpty Dumpty... to study the mind behind creating wars is vastly interesting. Your thought on this says puts everything in perspective.

Combine Frank Sanatra's 'All, or nothing at all' and Beatles 'Give peace a chance'...the world with its Intelligence would see how a) easy and b) profitable it is to bring wars to books.

Best.
Supratik

sweetwater on 11-02-2016
Grow up
I wonder if things will ever improve, or with so much new and ever more powerful weaponary will we succeed in destroying ourselves, I fear the latter will be true. Sue.

Author's Reply:
I am so sorry Sue to have missed reading this beautiful response. Everyone intelligent and sane person would think like you. But please love those who are on the wrong side of the table. :-))


Health and happiness (three small poems) (posted on: 05-02-16)
Enjoy the stuffing, if you may.

Cocktail Together a cocktail if we want to make The frozen ice is surely going to break Dough Need to war is a germ in the dough The feed poisons the body, from top to toe Host Together let's give it a toast Here's to health, for the host and the host In this world, Weapon is the only unwanted guest Quenched with bloods now, we'd put it to rest Free from worries, we're ready to grow and flourish Every soul will heal now, every being will nourish So let's shake our legs now, let's give it a toast Here's to happiness, for the host and the host
Archived comments for Health and happiness (three small poems)
pdemitchell on 06-02-2016
Health and happiness (three small poems)
Hi Supratik. Good to see you experiment with layouts and I like what you did with host - the person looking after guests and host - a large body of people. Bloods should be blood though. Well done. Paul

Author's Reply:
Paul, Thank you so much. I am glad you liked the form and the content. Much appreciated. Supratik


Warring world (posted on: 05-02-16)
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Push the weapons inside places of worship They need to rest in peace In mosques, temples, churches, gurudwaras, synagogues, and in books. And those persons with unbounded consciousness, whom for years we treasured inside the imprisoned boundaries, Bring them out in the fields, on the streets, Where they truly belong. Weapons and the World, both will be delivered.
Archived comments for Warring world
sweetwater on 05-02-2016
Warring world
Very clever two line intro, and the rest followed and flowed beautifully. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much. Supratik


Ode to mind (posted on: 01-02-16)
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Mind! O beautiful mind, Open up your blinded eyes. Conceive, at least for once It's possible to do away with weapons. Mind! O intelligent mind, Kill the need to kill humans. Release your worried horsed eyes Show us a way without weapons. Mind! O brilliant mind, Imagine a real no-enemy land. Where humans befriend humans Without guns, arms and weapons. Mind! O innovative mind, Re-invent methods to save the world. Protect the space where we bind Without guns, arms and weapons. Mind! O truth-seeking mind, Alight from hats on their comfort thrones With defeating powers, fears and prides, Build a winsome world without weapons. Mind! O imaginative mind, Free us from the stereotype that runs For once, conceive mankind Without arms, without weapons, without guns.
Archived comments for Ode to mind
pdemitchell on 01-02-2016
Ode to mind
नमस्ते। यह अद्भुत है।

This reminded me of the passion and intensity of my fellow Welshman, Dylan Thomas in "Do Not Go Gentle". Kill the need to kill humans: who but for a few sociopaths would disagree with that sentiment!

Can I make a suggestion? There were a few random rhymes and I do feel more would really strengthen the flow and power of this fine poem. For example, here's a suggestion with a triple repeat to slow and strengthen the last line of the last stanza (known as the 'rule of three' beloved of poets and politicians like me!):

Mind! O imaginative mind,
Free us from the stereotype that runs
For once, conceive mankind
Without arms, without weapons, without guns.

Paul


Author's Reply:
Lovely Paul. Will change!

Bozzz on 02-02-2016
Ode to mind
What better mission to have in life - but who will listen in this tiny backwater of life - we are both in the same boat - paddling in a tiny fjord where none can see us unless they dare to peep over the edge of the cliff - few dare - they might just read the word you mention - Education. Great stuff my friend...David

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much David. Yes indeed it is Education personified. I do believe that building a world without insecurities is possible. More than looking at this from the spiritual and or poetic angle, it makes business sense to be out from this headache of creating and marketing weapons and wars. We have ingrained this belief in us that war is a historic and a trans-historic reality, likewise, with proper training of the Mind, it is also possible to exit from this belief. Intelligence can help if it really looks at it from a pragmatic perspective. Supratik


Owning ago (posted on: 01-02-16)
...

Ocean of sadness in my ears falls drop by drop, the salty pages fly with inky clouds in search of fresh air, to nourish the still eyes, to wink or blink, a little. Mountains don't move an inch, air fails to woo I am in awe the same tune beats my drums.
Archived comments for Owning ago
sweetwater on 01-02-2016
Owning ago
Really enjoyed reading this lovely poem, exactly the type of poetry I like the most. Sue 🙂

Author's Reply:
I am glad I could write something, after a long while, you liked. Supratik. 🙂

pdemitchell on 01-02-2016
Owning ago
"Air fails to woo" is the line that really jumps out of this short piece! Paul

Author's Reply:
Thank you! 🙂 Supratik

Savvi on 02-02-2016
Owning ago
This one had me thinking, and I like that, I thought it was about the difficulty to write a poem at first then I thought it was a descriptive poem about listening to a piece of music, either way I did enjoy it. Thanks Keith

Author's Reply:
Thank you Keith! Your observation is much appreciated. Supratik

Nemo on 09-02-2016
Owning ago
This is mysterious, so much so that I cannot fathom out what it is about. That is probably my fault as I am unable to tune in these post-modern images but the puzzle is what makes it worth thinking about. The title might mean something - owning ago - this might be a very clever idea - that we can keep hold of and retain the past. Might I suggest that the lines would convey meaning better if they didn't begin with a capital letter, unless starting a new phrase or sentence.

Cheers for now, G

Author's Reply:
Yes it is mysterious. Thank you very much Gerald for stopping by. Yes, I think your suggestion is valid...changing it right away. Supratik


Happy Republic Day (posted on: 29-01-16)
India celebrated her 67th Republic Day on 26 January 2016. I should have been talking about my pride in the capability of Indian Army, Navy, and so on... but I came up with this!

Earth is my Devaki*, India my Yashoda*. In this land, I worship Jesus, Krishna and Allah Above all, we celebrate friendship. Today is our Republic day, Sweets were shared on the borders, I wish this camaraderie to stay, That we realise we're sisters and brothers. Note: *Devaki is the birth mom for Krishna and *Yashoda his adoptive mom.
Archived comments for Happy Republic Day
Bozzz on 31-01-2016
Happy Republic Day
In 1945-6 I served as an officer in the RAF at Dum Dum airport. Not surprisingly the doctors treating me in hospital in Calcutta were very cagey until I announced my unqualified support for Ghandi and Nehru in their struggle for independence. Nehru visited my father's house during my early teens. I rejoice with you Supratik....David

Author's Reply:
Thank you so very much David! 🙂 Supratik


Made for each other (posted on: 29-01-16)
...

The sun is rigid, doesn't move, It is done by the agile moon. The sun looks strong and bright, The moon is forever feathery and light. The sun is colourful, moon is white, On the stage, playing all day and night. They unite at times every single day Dawn and dusk part in their different unique way. But the blue never leaves the earth in the dark, Lights with precious, golden silver stars. They're just there, present if you please, Being with the rhythm, glowing at ease. There is no judgement, no sense perhaps in the move, Life grows with the sun and rests with the moon. Ceaseless lights rain from the space up above The sun and the moon are madly in love.
Archived comments for Made for each other
Savvi on 29-01-2016
Made for each other
an interesting view and strong observations some nice images along the way, what's not to like, very much enjoyed. Keith

Author's Reply:
Thank you Keith. I am glad you enjoyed it. 🙂 Supratik

ifyouplease on 29-01-2016
Made for each other
that's interesting, sun and moon in love with each other. i didn't expect the end.

Author's Reply:
Thank you! :-))

Gothicman on 30-01-2016
Made for each other
Yes, Supratik, the sun loves the moon, lights her/him/it up, as if to say look at my partner, we'll visit you regularly, and every thirty years or so, make visible love, or as we call it, eclipsing, look at the billions of offsprings we've produced!

Great poem, I particularly liked:
"Life grows with the sun and rests with the moon."

Like the way you avoid attributing gender, t'would be difficult to apply stereotypical characteristics to the construction and function.
Oj! Lightening here! Must turn off the computer before other powers fry it!
Best, Trevor



Author's Reply:
Yes Trevor, I do avoid attributing gender... I am glad you noticed that. I hope your computer's fine! Best. Supratik


Let's walk (posted on: 25-01-16)
...

The moon is the sun's mind In perpetual separation Causing death, Is one interpretation; The moon is the sun's presence In inseparable union of light Breeding life is another; In this world of light, the sun and the moon Have transformed, merged as one. The mind is here with me Of readers who'd pass by this text It will also be They'd separate as parts Like our companion stars. A recount of an ordinary walk On a Sunday afternoon Of a mother and a child; Wait I would also be a reader In a while In the mind of the text I have my role everywhere In union, in separation Of thoughts nestling, nursing Since a long time As an extra-ordinary state Has suddenly become so real So wonderfully trivial Like our coveted ordinary lives My mind, your mind, our mind Let's walk... Scene: The capital of a country in Africa Mom: Taxi! Driver: Good afternoon Madam. (Looking at the child)... good afternoon sweetheart... (Ushers them in) Mom and Child: Good afternoon Sir! Driver: Where to Madam Mom: The Museum Driver: Very well... here we go. The taxi sails through the road. On one side is the vast orchard of fruits hanging on the nourished trees, and on the other is the vast paddy field; long far-reaching grasses smiling away. The sky on top is blue, relaxed. Child: (smiling)... Thank you Mom...it's going to help me for my project work. Mom smiles Driver: Here we are Madam. Here sweetheart...a mango for you. Mom: Thank you Sir. (pays and alights. The child smiles.) Mom: Come... (takes the child and goes to the counter. Two options: Hunter and War. Mom takes both) The place is not so crowded...it's just an ordinary museum. Mom: Do you know we have this kind of museum in the capital city of every country? Child: Yes, teacher told us. Mom: Come let's go to the Hunter section first. The section hosts animals that were hunted the most, viz. tigers, lions, leopards, wild boars, snakes, and so on. It also has names of hunters. Child: Mom, I think people were sick in those days. Imagine killing animals for a living! And to think that hunting was a profession back in those days! I think the world should name this a hunter zoo or a war zoo or something? Mom: Yes hunting was a profession once upon a time. But don't say people were sick in those days, no unkind words please... it is best to be known as a museum, the concept of zoo is unkind too, don't you think? They were also good people, very well-meaning people, but their mind was elsewhere and they were insecure. That's all. Besides, it is the same Intelligence, the same Leaders, and the same Peoples that have made this world also possible. Let's go the War section now. The child walks through the rooms and sees weapons, weapons, and more of weapons all over the place. He was reading from the friendly fonts in red that in those days humans would kill humans with the weapons displayed now with a 'do not touch' tag. They were invented by very intelligent and well-meaning people, when countries would flaunt weapons to belittle or scare other countries... he was reading... about the waste of money, wealth... these weapons were invented, created and marketed, weapons for mass destruction, but they were not used... his mind did not understand the purpose behind inventing something that couldn't be used! But the intention was noble... these weapons were invented for self-defense. When he shared his thoughts with his Mom, she said it was easy for him to think this way, but there was a time when children would shoot children too. That now, it's become so easy and mundane and ordinary not to use weapons, to function without the use of a single weapon now. Even earlier, when people would hunt animals, hunters were really sought after... no one could even think of doing without them, but it happened. In the War section, there's an Army section too. He goes and learns that there were people who were trained only to kill other human beings. They were dedicated people, but their sole purpose was to kill, the objective was very noble...they would kill to protect. But these Army guys are now called Nature guys...equally trained and built to fight calamities and force majeure... he knows it because that's his dream to be a Nature guy. There was also another section called account section... the whole room was full of figures from 0 to 9... the child got lost in the losses the world went through. It's almost evening. The sun is becoming milder. Sky is sleepy. He's out of the section now. Disturbed; like those children who visited the concentration camp in Germany, who were trained for years not to repeat that ever again. The child thinks... human beings would kill animals, and human beings... enemies...and what is that...and why...how...it's good that he's out of the section, but Mom told that people were good and very well-meaning in those days too, it's just that their mind was not with them. Good that my mind is with me. But I have a question. Wait I am going to ask this to Mom, who is looking tense now. First let's have something to eat, he thought. They are out in the cafeteria. Mom bites a sandwich and asks the child. Mom: So...how was it? Child: Good, but I have a question. Mom: Just one? Child: Or maybe more (laughs) Mom: Tell me Child: how did it stop? Mom: What? Hunting? Child: All... hunting, war, weapons, army...how did this stop Mom Mom: Nobody knows how...some say it's because of the leaders who were tired of their respective insecurities; some say it's because of the people who were tired of looking at each other's reflections as enemies. Child: But whatever it is...good riddance...but I have another question. Mom: Tell me... Child: What's for supper? Mom: Let's get home first... we have to ask the grand kid too... Child: You bet! Or he could also be making us a grand supper! Mom: Sure. Taxi! The taxi walks through the streets, taking the two passengers, who are now pensive and looking out of the window, what is the mother thinking... that mothers of the world would never have to give birth to a child who'd cause terror or be terrorised... she did not reveal one vital discovery that the whole world has made while doing away with weapons...that toy-weapons far outnumber real guns... she would bring her child again to reveal the secret because she knows that secrets create insecurities...what is the child thinking... of the weapons...of the army... or to fulfil the dreams of being a nature guy... they're perhaps throwing many questions at the sky, still golden... to be silver in a while. Dedicated to the mothers of all the 233 beautiful countries of the world.
Archived comments for Let's walk
pdemitchell on 25-01-2016
Let’s walk
Wonderful and ambitious! A boy with a toy gun shouting "bang! you're dead!" is one of the saddest things in the world. Paul

Author's Reply:
Paul... it will come true... very soon. Humans will unanimously decide to kill the need for weapons from their beautiful minds. Thank you for the rating. I tried a new form in the text. Supratik


Inescapable (posted on: 25-01-16)
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Ages of turmoil, Sad episodes grim the moon's face, Confused at her rising and hiding Silver rings as teardrops break into the waters, Talk to the fallen petals They must have been flowers, a while ago In the stillness of darkness, Redolence falls, Pearly silence tends to surface.
Archived comments for Inescapable
pdemitchell on 25-01-2016
Inescapable
Wonderful but 'silvers drool as teardrops' is a bit awkward mixing saliva and tear drops. Are you imagining the silver rings a drop makes when striking pools or lakes of water and ripples breaking the reflection of the Moon? If so, may I suggest trying "Silver rings as teardrops fall / into the waters" - where ring can be a ring of silver light and/or the sound of a silver bell. I hope you don't mind my suggestion for this lovely poem. Regards and best wishes, Paul.

Author's Reply:
Yes Paul, it makes sense... have changed it. Used break instead of fall in order to avoid repetition. No, I don't mind at all... thank you for taking the trouble of effectively suggesting change. Thank you for the rating! Supratik

Savvi on 26-01-2016
Inescapable
The changes work well, really nice images and a new word redolence, many thanks Keith

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Keith for liking the poem. Yes it is looking much better with Paul's suggestion implemented. Supratik

Bozzz on 26-01-2016
Inescapable
Yes we have a love-hate relationship with the moon but never bother to consider what is done in its name or what it thinks of us and the sun. Will you give it intelligence which is long overdue? A beautiful piece Supratik....Yours aye ...David

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much David. I feel guilty of letting you over-estimate my intelligence. I begin and end with one state of mind... that I know nothing of anything. However, I (without limiting myself with the physical I), am trying to tap on the source to align Intelligence with the starry vibrations. Yes it is sad to see what this unnatural relationship has done to the stars, as you have rightly pointed out. I am so happy that you found this piece beautiful with a little bit of concern and help from Paul. Imagine how livable the world would be, if my countries in Africa or my Greece would receive similar and genuine helps from my other countries. Supratik

Gothicman on 27-01-2016
Inescapable
Yes, I like this fine piece of yours Supratik, very concise and relevant wording; even when dead and void of Life, though loaded with energy, this close travelling companion in space still serves a useful function, one we take for granted, silently passing every night. A fine metaphor for the usefulness of all Mankind and Earthly Life, which we must care for and save, from the lowest to highest levels of intelligence and ecological function.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you Trevor. You have put the essence of the text so beautifully, the last sentence says it all. We don't need angels to come from heaven, there is no dearth of angels right in the middle of the terrace where we stay. The tired mind has till date not thought beyond wars, weapons and guns, it is focused on one abstract thing, enemies. In this the Mind needs to be trained, not with muscle power, but with affection, a lot of it. My problem is that I don't know much, but even with my limited understanding, I have this feeling that all the outfits born with the dharma of protecting Allah, are actually screeching for land and wealth, they are not actually safeguarding or protecting Allah. Therefore and so, wealth, unending wealth which is possible to generate on this very earth seems to be the key to dissolving challenges of creating enemies, wars, weapons, guns and all of it. How does this need to be deployed... the Intelligence comes in. What I am trying to do, in fact, we all are trying to do is show that it's easy... a matter of 233 leaders sitting together and deciding... we are making an easy task difficult. Now what is the focus? What is the fruit? What is the objective? Only one. No more killings of incomplete lives on streets or on fields with or without uniforms. Best. Supratik


The superfluous (posted on: 22-01-16)
Wanted the poem in Comic Sans MS font. But never mind.

O child! It's time, it's time Grow up from your addictive rhyme With your gun-games you still scare And 'frighten the little mouse under the chair'? We are faithful to war Learnt in the jungles, Primitive still is our attire In modern cover-up jingles! War and weep With your uptight juvenile head, Incomplete lives will sleep In the delinquent scarlet bed. Weep and war With your hesitant heart, Revenge and anger Will mimic the conceited craft. Mourning speeches Would write and be read, Holy screeches Would mime the world red. Candles will burn Operas will chime, History will learn To mirror in time. But if we all sat together With collected heart and head, Wars and its terror Could freeze and be dead. Dedicated to all the leaders of 233 beautiful countries of my world.
Archived comments for The superfluous
stormwolf on 22-01-2016
The superfluous
Yes Supratik but sadly most of them have got their snouts in the collective trough. "He who pays the piper calls the tune" So those holding the global purse strings only want more and more for themselves and are quite happy to see huge swathes of the world die of hunger and disease.
The latest stats about world finances show an appalling discrepancy between the haves and the have nots.

New Oxfam report says half of global wealth held by the 1%

Something HAS to change but it will not come about by the hearts or minds of the demonic rulers who have sold out to evil.
Alison x



Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Alison for responding with concern and care. Will borrow this expression 'global purse' if you don't have any objections. Yes something HAS to change, and change it we will. Supratik

Gothicman on 23-01-2016
The superfluous
Yes, ditto Alison's comments. A good poem too, as well as the content, as it maintains the same voice throughout. A well-written piece Supratik.
Trevor



Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Trevor! I am glad you liked it! 🙂 Supratik
P.S How did you get the font in here?! I would have loved that for this text.


Earth beats well (posted on: 22-01-16)
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Self defense, a clutter Tumor in the mind That markets the need For disaster, Plants the seed Turns the pious, poisonous Creates machines with forbidden purpose Is clearing away. A strange dark light lifts a feather-weight table Waiting in good humor, places it In the banks of a forest fountain Willing to expand, accommodate, explore Align with the rhythm of the defenseless star Once and for all, with love. Dedicated to all my siblings who died on the streets, in the fields, with bubbling lives
Archived comments for Earth beats well
pdemitchell on 24-01-2016
Earth beats well
From the heart and better for it... well done! Paul

Author's Reply:
The poem is very close to my heart, not only because it is talking about a fix mindset, but because of what you have described so well. Thank you very much for reading and commenting. Supratik


Shifting the focus (posted on: 15-01-16)
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Apple is the devil Still it feeds Doesn't bleed or kill
Archived comments for Shifting the focus
stormwolf on 15-01-2016
Shifting the focus
Very astute thinking Supratik.
Bold presentation too. I like the way you are never scared to experiment. It's so good to push boundaries.
Alison X

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison.
Yes I would like to think that too. I am often getting into deep silence now. The insane reality that is created around me is very interesting. What I receive during my periods of silence reflects in my writing... I know it's very presumptuous to say that, but that's what it is. You have put it so succinctly...every word expresses the intent so well. Thanks a bunch. Supratik

PS: It is for the benefit of those who might get confused with the poem.

Apples appear in many religious traditions, often as a mystical or forbidden fruit. One of the problems identifying apples in religion, mythology and folktales is that as late as the 17th century, the word "apple" was used as a generic term for all (foreign) fruit other than berries, but including nuts. This term may even have extended to plant galls, as they were thought to be of plant origin. For instance, when tomatoes were introduced into Europe, they were called "love apples". In one Old English work, cucumbers are called eorþæppla (lit. "earth-apples'), just as in French, Dutch, Hebrew, Persian and Swiss German as well as several other German dialects, the words for potatoes mean "earth-apples" in English. In some languages, oranges are called "golden apples" or "Chinese apples". Datura is called 'thorn-apple".

Ethnobotanical and ethnomycological scholars such as R. Gordon Wasson, Carl Ruck and Clark Heinrich write that the mythological apple is a symbolic substitution for the entheogenic Amanita muscaria (or fly agaric) mushroom. Its association with knowledge is an allusion to the revelatory states described by some shamans and users of psychedelic mushrooms. At times artists would co-opt the apple, as well as other religious symbology, whether for ironic effect or as a stock element of symbolic vocabulary. Thus, secular art as well made use of the apple as symbol of love and sexuality. It is often an attribute associated with Venus who is shown holding it. (Source: Wikipedia)

With all this erudite focus, we look at apples; however, we seem to overlook its simplest ability, ability to feed. The poem tries to dissociate the image of ‘forbidden fruit’ (devil) from the fruit apple, from shifting the focus from the definitions of apple to apple. If we are able to do that, we can perhaps understand what the real devil is.

Yours,
Supratik

Bozzz on 16-01-2016
Shifting the focus
To me, the apple represents the invitation to sexual enjoyment and procreation. How dare religion cast it as temptation to evil. A monstrous idea. An excellent 'shortie', Supratik. Yours, David

Author's Reply:
Thank you David! Just imagine how this life-giving juicy and lively fruit became an apple of discord. Who made it, how was it made, and why...it's a detective thriller don't you think...I think it's the same mind that created computer virus. Let's forgive those persons...let's really forgive them. Here's to a beautiful world. Supratik

teifii on 17-01-2016
Shifting the focus
Very educational. Interesting that a fruit should have been so taken over and had so many interpretations.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting.


Changing the prosaic demeanour (posted on: 15-01-16)
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I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world I am an American, a European, An African, an Asian, an Australian All at the same time I am an Afghan, a German A Pakistani, a Brit, an Indian A Mexican, a Canadian, a Russian A Japanese, an Algerian, a Chinese All at once, all at ease. I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world Ever since I was born, I had been fighting with reflection The sister or brother Camouflaged as the other Till date, I have created weapons to destroy, kill I have never even thought That it's possible to survive without weapons This need, I did never feel... Never have I even considered this! And I call myself intelligent? A scientist? A leader? My priority has been to war? For the sake of peace! We'd shift our need. This is the real change. I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world Leaders and scientists would fossilize weapons Store them in museums We'd all skilfully kill insecurity The stranger, real foreigner, the intruder, our real enemy. It will be uprooted from our minds, from this heaven. This is the real change. I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world Greece! O Greece! What marvellous philosophers you gifted To this world... it is a shame that you are struggling now With hedge funds... wait...you will get back your grace Economists will show us how It is a shame that Beijing and Delhi cannot breathe Wait... scientists will purify your air and water Will show us how you'd succeed No more focussing on other planets All intelligences will converge towards this tent. This is the real change. I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world Africa! O Africa! Scientists will invent mud technology to understand The pattern of your earth Make every inch of your fifty-eight countries reap wealth They'd give you a hand Instead of loans, Loads of affection, support and effort will pour... You will be as rich as Australia... And for this, other continents won't be insecure The need to grab will cease, the urge to empower will emerge. This is the real change. Like this, all our self-created problems To win over others will dissolve We will win this 'other' and consume all of it in us... Different, yet as brothers and sisters It will prevail in this world, my world, our world Instead of weapons, we'd flaunt wealth Celebrate camaraderie and happiness This is the real change. I belong to the world; this world, my world, our world I am an American, a European, An African, an Asian, an Australian All at the same time I am an Afghan, a German A Pakistani, a Brit, an Indian A Mexican, a Canadian, a Russian A Japanese, an Algerian, a Chinese All at once, all at ease. Dedicated to the peoples of all the 233 beautiful countries of the world.
Archived comments for Changing the prosaic demeanour
Gothicman on 15-01-2016
Changing the prosaic demeanour
Yes, we're all simply fellow members of that peculiar higher-animal species we gave the name, human beings, though a great many behave inhuman at times, when the rest let them. More power to your elbow, Supratik! All you say needs to be said, and constantly. We have one world, and one life with which to enjoy and explore it, given a fair start; the desirable situation for all, that we must continually strive for until achieved; if time allows. A strong rendition with clear messaging.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much dear Trevor! I am writing with one objective. It is very simple. To let the world leaders see it is possible to re-create a world without weapons. Where would terrorism stand tell me Trevor, if the world decides to make this world a really civilized place. Don't worry about scriptures that advocate killings... it will not stand a chance. Our challenge has been that we have restricted love in the books and in the confines of a few. 233 countries need to decide to deploy intelligence in a manner that does not need weapons to overpower. The need should shift, from creating weapons to creating wealth, enabling countries to lose themselves in the world and find their respective countries right in their own places. Insecurity should be killed. It is possible Trevor, it is possible, the round-table is waiting. It is bound to happen. Stay fit and fine. Have enormous sex with nature. Go go goh!
Supratik

sweetwater on 16-01-2016
Changing the prosaic demeanour
We all need to get on together and to understand that this planet is the only one any of us have, whatever race or religion we are. Even if we survive all this dreadful conflict raging across it, well the earth itself may not survive very long afterwards, and what then? Do we look for other planets to destroy? A great write, deeply thought through, and very well expressed. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much dear Sue. Stay fit and fine. Cheers! Supratik


Promise (posted on: 11-01-16)
🙂

It's time's promise to me that I would also grow old It's my promise to time, with age I will never be bowed.
Archived comments for Promise
stormwolf on 11-01-2016
Promise
Hi Supratik.
I love short meaningful poems like this. Hard to do well but you have succeeded.
I was wondering if the last word should be 'bowed' rather than 'bowled'?

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison! Changed! Yours, Suprarik


The sacred and the scared (posted on: 11-01-16)
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You are unafraid to die, what a skill! But you are also unafraid to kill! Are you afraid to love and live? Are you afraid to believe? You are afraid of your guide, You are afraid of the pages, You are afraid of your pride, You are afraid of other sages. You are unafraid with weapons, You are unafraid with arms, You are unafraid of the killings, You are unafraid of allarms! You are afraid to heal, You are afraid to be friends, You are unafraid to steal You are afraid to mend. You are unafraid of your hides, You are afraid to be kind, You are unafraid of your sides, You are afraid of your mind. You are unafraid to be sacred, Afraid to alter dead thoughts Unafraid, but you are scared Afraid to deliver from your corps. You are unafraid of your folly, Unafraid to kill the unarmed dead, Your arms are unafraid and holy, To turn the green sack red. You are unafraid to die, what a skill! But you are also unafraid to kill! Are you afraid to love and live? Are you afraid to believe? One typo in the poem can be excused as a licence to demystify the present crisis. Thank you.
Archived comments for The sacred and the scared
stormwolf on 11-01-2016
The sacred and the scared
Well they do say the opposite of love is fear. This poem highlights that. The kind of person you speak of here is unafraid to die but as you rightly question perhaps they are indeed afraid to experience love?
I think they may think that to hold basic humanity or empathy would weaken them as a soldier but it takes a dead soul indeed to throw a young man off a building for the crime of loving another of the same sex...or to stone a woman in the ground for the 'sin' of being raped!
You have caught something quite vital here and the trouble is that it's a self perpetuating problem as the young children get brutalised before they have even had a chance to experience the saving power of love.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
You have hit the ... eye. Save the innocent bull. This needs a detailed response Alison. Will get back. Supratik


A year that was, will be (posted on: 08-01-16)
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This year passed in confinement. Detached eyes and ears, It also passed in sublime seclusion, Time spent with me, myself Many times in days and nights I died and I cried I also laughed and smiled I did resurrect. I lived through my virtual pen That brought to me loving eyes and listening ears This year, like the year that was Without much attached rules and laws My breathing space of hope and despair Went... in an unheard fulfillment. Content. I have nothing to look forward to Past is the future without a hint or clue. Time is the predicament. Nothing will change In the minds weird, strange Hunger for anger all around Distaste for peace Starving the poor without ground Wouldn't be closer to bliss That, my pen would reflect. Except for the sky on which I'd walk I know the earth would feel The flowers with whom I'd talk I know grasses will see Leaves will drop to heal Their touch and their smell would come to me I know, in the form of family and friends With bones and flesh Alive and lively for the sake of a few My heart would beat next year too With love, without repent.
Archived comments for A year that was, will be
sweetwater on 09-01-2016
A year that was, will be
Loved this I can completely empathise with it. As one who has lived alone for many, many years now I saw my own life in this poem. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Sue!


Hands (posted on: 08-01-16)
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Hands, an online bridge, rising from the hearth Albeit homework for destruction around, connect with the earth, Nimble fingers clear clouds from the brain, smile with the rain Despite wars all the time, twenty-four by seven Solidarity will right and rhyme with heaven. Dedicated to the peoples of all the 233 beautiful countries of my world.
Archived comments for Hands

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insane journey (posted on: 04-01-16)
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The world is raging With hatred, anger To avenge the mindless killing Of innocent lives, war It is all set to declare; The Third World War; Escaping the sight, From those collective wrath and wry Sprung a song, in the guise of a dancing cry For the sake of those same naive lives Squeezed and stole its way for a tryst To search for the first world peace.
Archived comments for insane journey
sweetwater on 05-01-2016
insane journey
You are right about the world raging with anger, it's becoming a ticking time bomb that just goes round and round, chasing it's own tail but getting no further forward towards peace. Good write. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Sue. World will come together very soon. Insecurities, animosities will wither and 'friend' will replace 'enemy'.


Earth (posted on: 04-01-16)
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Look...just look at the map! Names are changing and so are the minds, We're not in holes, neither in any lapse The real change is here, from useless feuds unkind. Earthnorth America! Earthsouth America! Eartheurope! Earthafrica! Earthasia! Earthaustralia and Earthoceania! Countries on this earth, humming eureka, eureka... Ears and eyes have opened to the stable moving earth, Graves of grieves have softened, rejoicing in this re-birth. New focus is our earth, not any invisible stars, The mud is set to plough where reaps will heal the scars. Earthnorth America! Earthsouth America! Eartheurope! Earthafrica! Earthasia! Earthaustralia and Earthoceania! Countries on this earth, humming eureka, eureka... Words, words, and words we'd all been fighting for words, Good that now we found the earth in our world. We'd safeguard still our respective identities, Like flowers of one garden blooming all at ease. Earthnorth America! Earthsouth America! Eartheurope! Earthafrica! Earthasia! Earthaustralia and Earthoceania! Countries on this earth, humming eureka, eureka...
Archived comments for Earth

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Pursuit (posted on: 01-01-16)
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My moment has arrived, in time devoured Extent to complete hanging onto my hat Contour of the verge scored Glimmer of a fiction or fact. How implausibly stable I'd think, The demeanour of the constant while, I'd float in the immovable wave of time In the preface of my story's ink. With hand-holding years seemingly few Stages slowly passed by Confines time and again anew Made me forget, wingless boater could fly. Today, having arrived at the near end of my game My seat on the proem as I see, Everyday dressed just the same On the flower is the busy blending bee. Permanence or cliff-hanger, both lie, In their lazy chorus underlying theme, Euphonious time stays, appears to wither and fly Around the balanced, resolute stream.
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In conversation with... (posted on: 01-01-16)
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In the middle of changes, The mind is armed. Unable to deliver from the chains A slippery surface, a bond To win is to kill. The intelligent brain with unmatched skill That could bring heaven from the sky Is hurting the earth with wrath and wry, In chain is the constant destiny Not changed a bit has our wailing history. Good leaders of the world, Old leaders of the world, New leaders of the world, Bold leaders of the world, Guns are for those insecure and scared Don't flaunt them, benumb them Stop this destructive expensive game. They're for those helpless cowards Step in, we need you, come forward. Join us for a change, please listen to us Good and old, new and bold leaders Follow the drum that beats too in your hearts. An appeal by the peoples of this star A cry from all the countries without bar Is to re-build the world with gumption and sense, Kill the need to scythe with our creative intelligence. We want a no-weapon world, A weapon-less world, a weapon-free world, Focus, our leaders on this timeless troubled floor Don't create and market those killers anymore Stock them now for good in their only asylum Freeze them now with care in the new museum. All countries will have one sacred little space Where heartless treasured arms would coffin all in grace Flags would fly on top, hum a different unsung tune That was hiding in the hearts, in the depraved morn and noon. Those museums, our children would visit and say 'Once upon a time, we used these to kill and slay We are out of it now thank goodness We won't get killed anymore, good riddance.' ... Why did you write this poem in my mind? What is your intention I don't understand That which repeats with organs mute and blind To bring about the change on this history's land Do you think it's possible? This miraculous magic! Of course yes it is, the hearts are waiting to click It cannot happen with might, it cannot happen with force Would happen if you please, by tapping the constant source You may call it love or by any other name Present in all of us, in ways just the same With the peoples of the world, the real power lies From enemies everywhere, friends will smile and rise Lively arms would stretch and inert arms will yield For those who lied on streets, and those who died on fields Tired objects would rest in silent museum Minds would all be free, from the insane asylum
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Conflict (posted on: 28-12-15)
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Conflict, a deadly weapon, ghastly Routed deep, mellowed as an entertainment. Intelligence, pray you play your flute gently And tune us a way out, from this predicament.
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Some small simple score (posted on: 28-12-15)
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Of war and peace Scarecrows is to birds As war is to peace Of flowers Lotus appears in ponds Rose comes with thorns Same stories from same stalks Mere flowers They know little of words But to exist and perish, for lovers Nature's wings Crow mothers Cuckoo sings Human wanders In nature's wings Of lizards Lizard lies In the branches Hiding and writing stories In human minds Of changing times At cross-purposes Scarecrows Bird-watch Crops hatch Starving grows
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Here's to the Peoples of the World (posted on: 21-12-15)
tap, tap, tap...ha ha ha!!! people power

Weapons rain, Intelligence cries. Wars refrain, Destruction lies. The world floods With obliging bloods. Drop the guns, the world says But arms everyone buys and sells. Power with arms, a primitive style Thoughts crucified, in history's file. 233 countries? 6 continents! Such a small number Yet unable to wake up, from their condemned slumber. When People would be up with their peaceful power In an hour they'd ruin, the need to kill and war. Leaders will follow the Peoples of the World, Intelligence will smile, glowing and kind Weapons will rust until they're blurred Until they drain and wither from the minds.
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Being wrong (posted on: 21-12-15)
tap, tap, tap...

Two counties fight. Two faiths rage war. Each has a reason sound and strong, Both think they are in the right And probably, they most certainly are To think that war is not wrong. Is then being right the poisonous germ, That kills and destroys our rightful peace? Of what use then is this delinquent sperm, That grays our right to infinite bliss! If being right pollutes and corrupts the air, Being wrong then is correct and fair. It'd null the weapons, denounce the war To deliver history's most insistent scar.
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e-griff on 21-12-2015
Being wrong
I think the rhyme construction of this was better than your other poem. Also, I enjoyed it.

There is a typo: 'on ...' instead of 'in the right

best JohnG

Author's Reply:
Right I corrected it. Thank you very much John. I am glad you liked this one.


Ways (posted on: 18-12-15)
🙂

For an untrained world, wealth and sex breed war. For a trained world, peace
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sweetwater on 20-12-2015
Ways
Yes, very true, 🙂

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue for stopping by. Supratik


Frills (posted on: 18-12-15)
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Clouds Have come down to my neck and my knees, Like frills I see my frozen brain in them, once heavy and loud Now floating, relaxed In them I see my world, covered. Soon it will rain, To celebrate my last tear dance, And then All monotonous beginnings Will end Every bit of my world, With a new and fresh focus Will plough and reap Harvests of love. Golden theories will wither, Metal pages will vanish clear, Lifelessness in the broken mud will disappear And I will rejoice in the leap. I will marry my world, I know the world will kneel For love, with my misty eyes Let me enjoy the frills.
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World is the only country (posted on: 14-12-15)
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World is the only country, earth, the only nation, rest can rest, in space for a change.
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Gee on 14-12-2015
World is the only country
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all see it that way, instead of things dividing us? Nicely expressed.

Author's Reply:
It would ideed be! Thank you very much for your appreciation.

sweetwater on 17-12-2015
World is the only country
Very nice, so much expressed in so few words, we can all be different yet also remain the same, sadly too many want to hurt and corrupt for their own benefit or misguided reasons and refuse to listen. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Sue. Our effort is to tap so we could help everyone listen to the beats of love.


Change, a challenge (posted on: 14-12-15)
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Zeal to win over self ushers in peace, Yearning to win over others results in war. Competition, a weapon insecure, ill at ease, In the guise of excellence, to bring out expertise Is a virus that spreads in the veins, corrupts; a disease that overcasts the mind, too deep, too far. Competition knows no pollution, poverty, Misery and chicanery it hears and sees everywhere. It fills our organs with stress, violence, anxiety From work to the world, it propels to destroy fraternity. A delinquent machine that connives camaraderie into monstrosity Spreading an insipid, insolent, and a deadly scare. Winning over others is a defocused conviction Winning over self, a charming, a mature engagement. This shift in the mind needs to be brought into fruition A real change, when work gets done in its own volition Wealth reaps, the hungry germ dinosaurs into extinction, World bequeaths peace, beneath the same blue firmament.
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Bozzz on 14-12-2015
Change, a challenge
So many basic truths in this piece - I read it as a clever critique of the capitalist system as well as a condemnation of the inherent risks in international sporting events. I recognise the 'dynasore' as a true beast, myself. Great onomatopoeic spelling ! Excellent read Supratik....David

Author's Reply:
David, Thank you for liking the poem. Pressurised by convention, I am forced to change the spelling!! Yours, Supratik

e-griff on 14-12-2015
Change, a challenge
Excellent piece. Every word, every idea, clear and telling. Star stuff.

Think it should be 'dinosaurs' though.

Author's Reply:
Dear John! Thank you! I can't believe I changed the spelling, ha ha ha!


Living (posted on: 11-12-15)
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With lively words In open arms We create lives In open arms With lively words
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Lived (posted on: 11-12-15)
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For lifeless words With lifeless arms We kill lives With lifeless arms For lifeless words
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sweetwater on 13-12-2015
Lived
Short, sharp and very clever, like it. : ) Sue.

Author's Reply:
Sue...thank you!!! Your name is so sweet it rhymes with thank you! I am really glad you liked it. :-)) Supratik


Dream sleeps (posted on: 07-12-15)
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Dream sleeps Dream sleeps, In time and space. In many forms, Bombs, born in time Bloom, Burst, Burn, Bury; Production, marketing, procurement The loyal triplets Sneak through the holes of insecurities, in broad daylight. Unwilling users, unable to stop, usher the unwanted. The root The need Words, Power, Clarity and more of it, For dissensions and destruction! Yet Yearning to be in seventh heaven, To live happily ever after, Six continents, a small number Divide into uncountable pointlessness; Not divide the divisible. In time and space, Dream sleeps.
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A parked canvas (posted on: 07-12-15)
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A parked canvas In the floating stable sky, The earth-boat stops. The canvas chokes with dread-brushes, Hues blur in the blues. Killing terror, And killing the terrorists Not the same, the painter says, With strokes of colour-speeches For then, another crisis, a misfit Will be reborn, in style Leaving the living, dead. A daunting, engaging, intelligent, creative task ahead To uproot the school, free the pupils. For then, life lives Sky glows, Earth sails Canvas continues
Archived comments for A parked canvas
ifyouplease on 09-12-2015
A parked canvas
you have a very promising ending, really original the ending is so good that made me add a comment.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Nic for your encouragement. I am glad you liked it!

Bozzz on 09-12-2015
A parked canvas
Though not a religious person, I like this clever and thoughtful poem very much. Very interesting approach to nativity, Supratik. Yours aye…David

Author's Reply:
Thank you David!

sweetwater on 09-12-2015
A parked canvas
This is a very original poem, I love the way you have mixed art with war, using brushes and canvas to get your words across, very clever with a great deal of thought in each word.
A wonderfully different view on this time of year. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue! There is music in the air now. But hey... as David says...it's not religious!! Thank you so much. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 12-12-2015
A parked canvas
Like this, I agree with David. It's original and well thought out. Your use of metaphor works well.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike! I am glad you liked it. Supratik


and this continues (posted on: 04-12-15)
:-))

and this continues outfits are reborn they re-kill and re-die reactions to re-destroy words intelligence takes the same root shouts with scholarly scarlet in hysteric hues responds with the same metals to uproot misfits, holding weapons, and not weapons; killings, deaths, defeats win breaths and births lose and this continues intellectually challenged, impaired world speaks through refrains... waves giggle clouds snigger brooks burst animals smile stars smirk
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All around (posted on: 04-12-15)
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All around, sounds rivet the air, layers of vapour, a clumsy cover in the sky; eyes spy, earmark, intelligence in heady wonder; are these clouds or smokes, efforts of nature or humankind firmament in its constant blue a witness, of imagination.
Archived comments for All around
sweetwater on 06-12-2015
All around
Lovely words, the 'sounds rivet the air ' is so unusual but very apt. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Sue for liking this one! Supratik


Old young photo (posted on: 30-11-15)
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Years later, an old young photo dropped on the floor; I was cleaning my desk, Picked it up. A young me in an old photo I looked closely, With my glasses. Curly black hair, broad smile shining out broad and bold, dreamy eyes at the camera, ready to write unknown stories, bring the moonlit nights sunshine days from the oceans... The faded color, the line in the middle that spoke of time, lied. Now I look at my frame With the young mirror in front that my hand holds... In the midst of changes, Nothing has changed. I place the photo on the table. Dedicated to a friend
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evergreen (posted on: 30-11-15)
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Clouds... The tongue dances, Words raindrop on dry pages Evergreen songs free the captured air.
Archived comments for evergreen
sweetwater on 30-11-2015
evergreen
As you can tell if you read my reply to my poem I replied to you before I read this page lol! I love this one, maybe only four lines, but they are beautiful ones, and I like the way you have set it out. Sue. :-))

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue for your kind words! I literally felt my tongue dancing this monsoon. 🙂

Elfstone on 01-12-2015
evergreen
I like this one. It has the feel of a Haiku - much said in very few words. Elfstone

Author's Reply:
I am glad you liked it! Thank you. Supratik

e-griff on 02-12-2015
evergreen
Nice little thought. I too thought it had a flavour of a haiku's intentions.

Author's Reply:
Thank you John!


Earth, our nation (posted on: 23-11-15)
a thought

Countries need flags to hoist. To show their identity, pride and order The wind of nationhood, fresh and moist, Trumpets and warns, from binding borders. The earth wanders around, With its flute, perhaps it also needs a flag, Neglected it is, without any belonging tag The source is in search, alone, unbound. Big brothers breed poor cousins, Knotted in meaningless virtues and sins, Both busy cutting the branch on which we rest, Determined to make us homeless, from our only nest. The moving ball, a complete human body, a whole With ulcer, cancer, tumor, migraine in its parts, Can we ever heal our own winsome soul? With its brain ailing, with its wailing heart! Every part of the earth needs to cure With our thoughts intelligent, and at ease The disease will wither in time for sure Real foreigners, conflict and stress, will forever rest in peace. When will cousins become siblings! When will sense in intelligent minds emerge, To its roots, will the disengaged family ever stretch its wings, Will all nations in the earth ever converge? When will it be free from enemies and weapons, Fighting and killing, for some words and notions, Wonder, dear earth, if we could ever make a flag for you, For you might deserve an independence day too.
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sweetwater on 26-11-2015
Earth, our nation
This is such a lovely poem, with some brilliant lines and so much truth written in them. Loved it. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Sue! I am glad you liked this one. Supratik


crisis (posted on: 23-11-15)
countries continue to live as islands, disconnected, disunited; it is through these holes of disunities enter diseases...can we put an end to this

in spasm irritation spills is solidarity immobile still islands stay in stress intelligence sleeping in space it should inspire sagacity in slashing inexplicable senility immediately squashed inactive, straight insane strikers' injurious strait it should instantly shut-stop illicit sellers' inflammable shop intelligence summons islands stretch infinite stability innocuous strength
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Bozzz on 25-11-2015
crisis
Supratik you give meanings to a variety of human conditions that afflict the world - this is a sad poem that offers little hope for us, but we get what we deserve. Multiplication breeds friction. Lack of education in social behaviour seems at the root. Yours, David

Author's Reply:
David yes lack of education in social behaviour is the challenge indeed. Thank you for stopping by.Supratik


Rendezvous with the trespasser II (posted on: 20-11-15)
🙂

Dead I wish I were dead. So I didn't have to drink My blubbering tea Watch the wailing TV Witness, observe and see And count the enchanting life, dead. It's not about values Not about ethics It's not about winning, losing Not about polemic It's about people living a while ago, lying dead In my darling paris my bubbling siblings, silenced. Anger will rise, revenge will cry Through the years sporadic tears will dry With candles of condolence And move on again and again To this animosity it seems there's no end I wish I were dead instead. What kind of a poem was that? Dead? You wrote it, didn't you? Yes I did. You! Yes I wrote it...who do you think I am huh? I am telling you again and again that I am a common human being...an ordinary human being. It's only when you come, I feel different..that's all. I have the right to be angry, to grieve, to weep, to cry. But this is not going to help. You need to overcome this. These emotions will energise the school you want leaders to demolish as a service to the world, which does not exclude the students of the school in question. Yes I know. But now I am not in the right frame of mind. So shall I leave? Yes. Leave. But Obama and Putin are meeting! So? So what? Okay don't leave... tell me. But please don't tickle me and say all those hoosh hoosh thing...and don't make me laugh, ok? Okay. Wait...what are you doing... you have totally taken grip over me...you are squeezing me and taking all my pain away... ok I just listen.... Between Wednesday 7 January 2015 and Friday 13 November 2015, you have two attacks in Paris. This time, the attack happened in six different places in Paris. Well, nothing stopped in between. Everything moved on with the exception of some lives dead on the streets, perhaps drowned-forgotten with tears of condolences or washed away in the fire of anger. Businesses continued, share prices panicked, solaced shareholders, and TV channels continued to entertain with eyeballs pouring in as footfalls. And life continued. During this time, the school of terrorism was doing their homework. Homework that was insane with single-minded dedication, something that you lack, frankly speaking. Attacking six different places in Paris is no mean task, it needs coordination, talking to people, convincing people to open fire, arranging for guns, weapons, chalking out a foolproof plan; and remember all of this right in the middle of a country whose intelligence has a proven track record. Well this needed effort that had to factor physical and other dependencies. This incident has also created a major confusion in the minds of people that perhaps the third world war has begun, and that this time it is West versus East. What were you doing during this time? I will tell you what you did. You let the persons be terrorists. Otherwise how would you let a person with multiple criminal records be on the loose...why didn't you let the person be with the Brahmakumaris or with Osho? You could have just watched the person/s closely too. Remember you had the support which the school did not have. They carried guns which could have been neutralised through remote sensing, but this needs deployment of intelligence which is unfortunately busy elsewhere. You are busy with Mars and other planets, but you don't seem to be as busy with the earth. For other planets you have tons of money and brilliant minds to waste, but for the earth, where you live, you have nuclear weapons, don't you? What have you done? What are you still doing? Will you not ever come to your senses? You are so helplessly faithful and dependent on weapons and wars that you'd never ever consider the possibility of walking over them? You have been focusing on strengthening your security, which is a good thing. However your securities are failing over and over again...why? It's because you are not focusing hard enough on your insecurities. If you did that your insecurities would perish and your securities will automatically strengthen. It is a joyous moment for the earth that Putin and Obama are meeting. Friends who were lost in the wilderness of misunderstandings are now meeting. This friendship between two countries will not cause any more insecurity to any other countries. They will look at each other, shake hands, and finally hug. A new beginning...they will talk openly about what they did to each other in the past...something that they will not repeat...they'd work on their respective insecurities. Imagine the liberty this meeting will give to several Russians and Americans, and this energy will be spread out in your world...then entire world will benefit out of this. I would urge you to enable people to look at the world as a whole. Internationality is the key. The English are proud of England, Americans proud of the Americas, Japanese proud of Japan, Afghans proud of Afghanistan... in this respect, you haven't changed at all... and you talk of change? When will Indians be proud of China, and Chinese proud of Kiwis, Pakistan proud of Australians, when will Greek be proud of Egyptians, when will English be proud of Algerians, French proud of Mexicans, when will Germans be proud of Nigerians, Americans proud of Malays and Russians proud of Pakistanis? I am telling you repeatedly that with your intelligence, emotional and otherwise, it is possible. In this light of internationality you will lose yourself in the sheer joy, and yet can find your respective lands better. Just as now you are losing yourself...can you find yourself now.... come on....dance with me...I am holding you from all over... merry-go-round... I I I... can you find your I...yes? no? what? .... I know you are losing it...and yet you are getting it back. In the same way, all you insecurities will hoosh away... you can make it possible to eradicate the object 'enemy' from your earth...and this will be your greatest victory. Rely on intelligence that is based on the simple principle of 'live and let live'...this is the key. I want you to experience this pleasure in your earth. Have you ever thought of this... how is it that everyone is proud of their own country, but not so proud of the world...how is that possible to even process and nurse this painful thought for years and years? This is where a shift needs to come when everyone will really feel proud of their respective countries and also of the world. This can come through leaders of all countries, by applying intelligence. It involves engagement and occupation. Instead of inventing weapons of mass destruction to declare power, how about inventing a machine that can purify the air...that can add freshness into the polluted rivers, can make acres of inhabitable lands habitable? Don't tell me it is impossible... before inventing Brail who would have ever thought of including blind readers... parachutes and submarines have been invented by you, sign language for the hearing impaired, wheel chairs for the physically challenged and lots of other meaningful inventions to make the world more liveable, more enjoyable. Beautiful people that you are you need to invent things to demolish the object 'enemy' from your innovative minds. In reality that you are going through right now with me in this dance, there is no conflict, no enemy...there is peace, nothing but peace...with intelligence you can see it in your world. In this world, word doesn't exist, I have nothing to do with words, I never had....but in your world, you have invented word. It's a good thing because it is your strength; you can reach a higher level of consciousness through words. However, your over dependence on this strength has created weapons and the concept of enemies...you are fighting merely for words...come back...return to wordlessness...return to feelings...and then go back and see the world...the same words would appear different...like magic even the word enemy, weapon can also sound sweet...like human, heaven...repeat...human, heaven... human, heaven...again... human, heaven...I am just kidding, as I always do...but I said whatever I had to say on words...ah one more thing...I was talking about the word non-violence... you'd asked me to explain. Replace the word with peace. I know you have been using this word because it has been endorsed by many able leaders, even by many spiritual leaders. I am not saying it is wrong, but after discussion, you might consider because words mean everything in your world. I think the word need not be used because it is leaning on the word violence. The word 'non' is short and weak, therefore, it loses its impact. Say non-violence...say it again... you are prolonging the word violence. There is another reason too... listen carefully.... in the word 'non-violence', there are three /n/ sounds, the first two from the word non, and the last one from the word violence...what you are left with is one /n/ sound...so every time you utter the sound non-violence...you seem to physically imprint the opposite in your brain thus creating noise or confusion. Therefore, the word, however noble it might be, needs to be replaced. Invent a word where there is complete annihilation of violence. Strange thing is that although you are talking about internationalisation, there is no word as internationality, as mentioned earlier... you will see a red underline! But then, as I said already, if you practise wordlessness (even this word doesn't exist in your vocabulary, but this I understand why!), all words would sound sweet. Invent words, not weapons Juicy, fleshy, rich, worthy words Frenmy, Enemend, leapons jeshnalla, shivlink, worldan, If words have formed, deformed They will also reform, transform If through the years you fought for words It is through words you'd rebuild your world An engaging game That knows no end Now I am releasing you...I am letting you go...I am letting you be. Thank you! But tell me..do you want me to delete 'Dead'? No..why... let it be..without any pain... enjoy! But you didn't tell me how to convert sea-water into drinking water and that teaching happens in words, but learning doesn't happen through words. Are you busy now? No I am seldom busy. Turning sea-water into drinking water is not quite difficult. Nature does it every day. The clouds come from the waters of seas, oceans, rivers, lakes...but in various layers the conversion or standardisation happens and when you get them back as rains, you don't find any salty water. Follow the same process and you will also be able to do it. Invent a machine which can do that. If you can invent machines to go to Mars, nuclear weapons, you will be able to do this in time. Do you think our scientists haven't thought of that? Yes they have... but somehow they have given up...as I said, they are now focussing on something else. Why did you tell me this? I won't be able to explain this to such intelligent people... they'll make fun of me. You will do nothing. But do that nothing with all your heart. Things will be done. I also told you that in your world, teaching happens through verbal communication, but learning happens through non-verbal communication...this creates a huge gap and misunderstandings. Can you give some examples? Yes...let me first give you examples which people living in your part of the world would understand more quickly, and then I will give one example which everyone would understand quickly and easily. Do you see people riding bikes without helmets? Ha ha ha!!! You notice these things as well...ha ha ha!!! It's not you...it's me who's talking. (Suddenly there's silence.) Oh...I am sorry...please carry on. Or people driving without wearing seat-belts? Yes, I do. And there are also these youngsters who ride bikes and talk on the cell phones by slightly tilting their heads...have you noticed that? Who has taught them this posture, this body language? Who? Are these things taught? Anywhere? But they are learnt...like this, there are many examples across the world which can help you identify this as a phenomenon and then work on it. While scientists would have an engaging work ahead, so would linguists, poets, artists and industrialists. Okay I get it, but what about the other example? I don't have to spend much time here. Example is in scriptures. I will just take one very common example. What is taught through words is 'hate the sin, not the sinner'.
Archived comments for Rendezvous with the trespasser II
shadow on 21-11-2015
Rendezvous with the trespasser II
Very thought-provoking piece - think I need a while to digest it! Might come back later.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for stopping by. Your comments much appreciated.


Invent words, not weapons (posted on: 20-11-15)
🙂

Invent words, not weapons Juicy, fleshy, rich, worthy words Frenmy, Enemend, leapons jeshnalla, shivlink, worldan, If words have formed, deformed They will also reform, transform If through the years you fought for words It is through words you'd rebuild your world An engaging game That knows no end
Archived comments for Invent words, not weapons
gwirionedd on 20-11-2015
Invent words, not weapons
This is excellent, Supratik, I really like what you're attempting here.

May I suggest "rich" instead of "wealthy"?

"Wealthy" is not the same as "rich", because it only has the literal meaning, to do with money.

I detect some Indian influence in "jeshnalla" and "shivlink". Could you maybe give more of an idea concerning these words, and also "worldan"?

The "frenmy" and "enemend" remind me directly of what is happening right now in Syria. In such an atmosphere of ridiculous chaos, where Islamist fights Islamist, Christian fights Christian, Jew and Christian support Islamist and God knows how many other crazy alliances and antagonisms there are, one really has no conception anymore of "friend" and "enemy", or even just "ally". These words become meaningless.

So then, an intelligent and thought-provoking piece. Fave story for me.



Author's Reply:
Thank you Archie! Replaced wealthy.
Yes it is an attempt, a start at rebuilding the world, based on the 'assumption' that we are nothing but words, we are consumed by it, destroyed by it; if I were to accept this, then we can be recharged by the process. Crazy words like nationearth, internationality...etc. Shivlink is another form of sibling ha ha ha!!
When I was doing by M.Phil in France, I had theatre as one of my subjects. In there, my dissertation was about a play called Le Repas by Valere Novarina. He had created weird names in the play as eight characters...like
La Mangeuse Ouranique, La Bouche Hélas, L’Enfant d’Outre-bec, Jean qui dévore corps, Le Mangeur d’Ombre, La Personne Creuse, L’Avaleur Jamais Plus, L’Homme mordant ça.
This poem popped out perhaps from this.

Would request you to please take some time to read RV with the trepasser II because this poem figures there; there I tried deconstruction and construction with the poems Dead and this one. But read it of course when you have the time....and do feel free to comment...any interpretation goes.
PS: oops I missed the faves bit. Thank you!


Dead (posted on: 16-11-15)
dead end

Dead I wish I were dead. So I didn't have to drink My blubbering tea Watch the wailing TV Witness, observe and see And count the enchanting life, dead. It's not about values Not about ethics It's not about winning, losing Not about polemic It's about people living a while ago, lying dead In my darling paris my bubbling siblings, silenced. Anger will rise, revenge will cry Through the years sporadic tears will dry With candles of condolence And move on again and again To this animosity it seems there's no end I wish I were dead instead.
Archived comments for Dead
stormwolf on 16-11-2015
Dead
Oh I hear you loud and clear!
My brother in India.
I often feel the same. In fact I find it very hard to observe a world slipping into the abyss and see just how easily we are manipulated, as though the majority of people have lost the ability of clear independent, lucid thought.

There is no free speech anymore. Political correctness has us by the balls while desire to safely blend in has eradicated most potential Brave hearts. I often long for the day I am free from this hell hole.
Then I remind myself that we create our own reality and that where our thoughts go, energy flows. It's never been a case with me ‘if you can’t beat them, join them!’ It is a case of if I cannot beat them, retreat to the silence where all good abides and there is only light,
You know what I mean 😉
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison for stopping by and leaving such a wonderful note. I will negate my own thought in the next post in you know what I mean.:-)


moving metanoia* (posted on: 13-11-15)
🙂

The other day, like any other day, the sun was rising the moon leaving, dewdrops in their usual chores, birds chirping... It's possible to have a no-weapon world, to wash dirty battles from the bloody minds no enemies, no conflicts, no feuds of any kind. The Cloud from the hearts, completely cleared like the sun, rose from us the red warm peace, shifted the minds with a powerful charming ease. Grass is greener on this side. It's easy to make everyone happy. Borders now, an unmanned formality, everyone sings the tune with unmatched alacrity facts lying dead are crime and poverty. Insecurities from every land perish and wither, no scarcity; sea water science converts into drinking water no immigration, no computer virus, no firewall businesses flow, flourish with unending wherewithal. Globalization and localization see themselves as twins army has a new role; to protect us from calamities unforeseen, all countries are rich, at the helm of their success affluence is here for good, to stay at its best. Of their neighbours', countries safeguard the interest, scientists, artists, leaders are working without rest. New seed emerges from the inmost living heart, operas change their content, not the ardour and the art. Stones have moved from the eyes and the ears, sparkling are the stars that were hidden for years. The earth!! O the earth! Earth is the Eldorado, it is our Eden. It was here since time as our golden diamond garden. The new-found land; a usual day brings, the world is now seen as one human being. Clots completely cleared, every cell's healing. If all countries gain, our living heaven wins if any country fails, our glorious garden loses; this is the riff my world now chooses! The shift in the mind we bring into fruition a real change emerged, an engaging competition. *metanoia, an ancient Greek word (μετάνοια) meaning "changing one's mind".
Archived comments for moving metanoia*
sweetwater on 14-11-2015
moving metanoia*
Wouldn't that be a wonderful world to live in, perhaps the one we were intended to inherit in the first place, sadly the human race is not built for harmony and understanding, it never was. Even the phrase ' fight for peace' is at odds with itself. Sadly it is the earth, this beautiful planet on which we all depend that is the most broken by our stupidity. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Sue! A BIG thank you for stopping by. Yes 'fight for peace' is self-defeating. Supratik


Rendezvous with the trespasser (posted on: 06-11-15)
tap, tap, tap

He came to me again. It was just a bundle of glowing nothing that I call a he, could be a she too, but who cares... I will tell you what he did. He made love with me, I did not know my body had so many holes; in fact it is full of holes through which he was pouring a strange kind of movement I can loosely call love, because I was feeling good, aroused and sexy. Wait I will tell you what he said to me. I heard him first say that every single leaf, every single grass, every drop of sand and water had the power of infinite wealth, can feed the entire world. Why are you telling me all this? Why? Who will believe in this? Who? There are intelligent people who see scarcity of water in the ball which is floating in water, and you are telling me all this crap? I don't believe this at all. He smiled and started tickling me, and I went hee hee hee...this went on until I said okay, I believe you. And then suddenly, he was serious and brought in front of me all the leaders of the world. I never ever witnessed this before. And the intent of the meeting was on how to make every country rich. They brought in scientists with them who were looking at lands of all the countries of the world from a different perspective. Everyone was trying to make Africa as rich as Europe and Americas, the eastern side of Europe and Asia can become an Australia was what they were saying. Everyone was discussing about the world as a whole. Economists were disturbed because they had to re-write theories. Is this the real change you were talking about the other day? I remember you were talking about immigration, checks and balances; that we are different and not different at the same time; that the world will occupy and engage in letting poverty and weapons rest in peace. So these scientists and leaders are now doing that? Are these scientists real? Are these leaders real? He smiled. Wealth, endless wealth, sexy wealth, pure wealth... I was floating in wealth. I saw myself as the world. I saw myself as a citizen of all the countries of the world. Not one part of my body did I not find in them. I felt pain with their pains, joy with their joys. The man came and plucked the pain away, he just said hoosh, and it went away! ...And then there was this vast ocean of kindness, of sex. He made me discover how poverty and weapons have trespassed into my world. How every misery can go away at the click of a mind...I heard the click, it sounded like the same click...like the bomb scientists invented to destroy the world. How strange...it is the same sound? Exactly the same? But hang on; Reality is not like that hoosh of yours. I don't believe this at all. He smiled and started tickling me, and I went hee hee hee...this went on until I said okay, I believe you. Who can do this? Who can bring this reality into this world? He smiles and looks at me! Me???? Me!!!! I am not a pious man...no no not at all....what are you thinking...am I a saint or something??? O boy...just go away... it means I have to talk to people, those intelligent people and convince them about this?? Cela demande trop d'effort monsieur le merde. Listen I am calling you names, aren't you angry? He smiled and started tickling me, and I went hee hee hee...this went on until I said okay, I will do. Suddenly serious, he looked at me. Now what? He sent me a message through my numerous holes, like waves in my ears..ugh, eugh, ugh...he assured me that all I needed to do was tap, tap, tap...and it will be done. What? Tap, tap tap!!! Is this some kind of a juvenile joke? He smiled and started tickling me, and I went hee hee hee...this went on until I said okay, I will do. I went on... tap, tap, tap...I think I can do that! I went on ... tap, tap, tap. Hey... when you are doing it sounds like the same click...the magic click...tap, tap, tap... but when I do that, it sounds a little heavy...why? I want to do it just like you... I know it's easy...but I can't... okay I will try...I know I will get there...let's do it...tap, tap, tap... I woke up from my sleep, from my dream. My honeymoon is not over; it will never be, for I know the trespasser will come again to show me my world, my real world. I will again hear him say that every single leaf, every single grass, every drop of sand and water has the power of infinite wealth, can feed the entire world.
Archived comments for Rendezvous with the trespasser
Mikeverdi on 06-11-2015
Rendezvous with the trespasser
I found this a fascinating read, one I will read again, I feel there's more to be gained. On the critique side, a few to many not needed words, but what do I know. I liked it a lot mate.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Dude...please let me know where it needs change. I can understand an overuse of the word sex and the refrain that is kind of overdone. But on the critique side, I have something more to add...that is Supratik is talking too much too soon... it seems he cannot hold what he has seen, witnessed, experienced. He must try to control a little until the complete thing is revealed. Please tell me the places or words that need change. It's extra work for you, but please do that...I may not say thank you, but give you a hug. Supratik

stormwolf on 08-11-2015
Rendezvous with the trespasser
Hi Supratik
Ok this may be difficult for some people to understand but from my perspective this is very spiritual writing. The trespasser entered your dreams and your consciousness with a message. He came with laughter which is very high vibration and there is such a thing as Holy laughter so when you were doubtful about anything he made you laugh, raised your vibration to his level then you understood.
This is about a spiritual ecstasy .
I recognise it and can identify with it in several places.
The being of indeterminate sex told you things. He was above gender as such beings are. He filled the holes in you as when in the presence of the Holy one we are made whole. They see as as perfect and show unconditional love. The sex is the libido or life force ( kundalini rising)
You are very aware of the plight of the world and you suffer in your soul because of that. In the dream state when the unconscious mind is foremost and the critical mind is not so strident the presence was showing you how things are how things could be helped and your place in it all.

Your visitation ends with the realisation of cosmic consciousness. You know you can never be the same again as you are now operating from expanded vision.
The answers to the deepest questions in life are always so simple just like tap,tap, tap. Every manifested thing from people to stones is embued with the creative power of the creator.
Love and laughter can change world's in all dimensions.
Hope I have not rattled on too long but this is what I am told reading this.
We need more people with your vision,
Alison X

Author's Reply:
Alison!
It seems you wrote it. It's not close, it's exact to the letter. Will respond in detail later. Supratik

Hi Alison
Yes your interpretation of the text is absolutely correct. For the time being, I have shelved some words that you have used for a specific reason. I really don’t understand why I was chosen, because there is no logic. I am not even sure if this voice (remember Nic’s work on voice?) is somebody else’s or mine...I am confused. I am not able to understand how I can give this a seriousness it might deserve, because the voice tells me all the time not to be serious ha ha ha! Throughout my life, I was not a good student in science and he tells me all the scientific ways in which sea water can be turned into drinking water, how every land can reap unending wealth for the country in which it is grounded, how insecurities from the minds can be washed away in just a moment. We know that rich countries are more insecure for a number of reasons... he says all of this can be washed away in a matter of seconds. Every country has all the richness it needs. All lands have equal amount of flow and fund resources, viz. oil, petroleum, etc. He asks me to look at the world as a human body and to take care of the world as though we take care of our entire body. We are different and not different at the same time. He also says that it is profitable to promote and apply peace, plus many other things... I will keep posting his thoughts (or my thoughts I don’t know I am confused) from time to time. He had also asked me to go to the White House and tickle Obama so he could be friends with Putin. When I told him to stop being childish, you know what he said? He said we are all more childish than one can imagine...we are constantly fighting over issues and concerns that don’t exist. There are many things he says that I don’t understand. He says that it’s a good thing that people want to immigrate. It shows how much everyone needs good life. However, people who immigrate are in pain, inasmuch the same way as those who host them. This problem can be solved in minutes he says, by making all countries vibrant and worth living.
There are two things I understand. One is the sex bit, and the celibacy that follows. I completely understand the concept of people in order being married to Jesus, or Krishna as the case may be. After the process, all your cells are so satisfied that no one has to advocate or preach celibacy, it becomes a given, it just follows. How this happens, why this happens I don’t know.
The second thing I understand is the superfluous and meaningless violence. I completely understand why I should offer the other cheek when a person slaps me on one. This is because there is no other, there is no you...it is only I, and the least that you can do is not slap back; if you are conscious, you wouldn’t like to slap yourself. What the unconscious world is intelligently doing is hitting and hurting their own reflections. This would be difficult for anybody to understand, so I am not broaching this subject at all. I am sure you have heard of Kalidasa, the author of several novels in Sanskrit? The legend says he was a fool and was seen cutting the branch of a tree on which he was sitting. Aren’t we all doing just that! Of course, he became conscious after he received the boon from Saraswati, the goddess of learning and music! And then he became the Kalidasa we know.
I sincerely believe that the world would become a no-weapon world. I will therefore continue to tap.
I am deeply touched with your interpretation of the text. Do rattle as much as you can. An exceptional writer that you are, I can only gain from your perception.
Supratik

PS: I looked at my diary where I kind of record all his thoughts... I found two more things which I wanted to share with you. One is non-violence, he says it's a stupid word because every time we energize this word, by pronouncing or by thinking, we bring violence into the world. The word should be replaced by peace, by nothing else. Now tell me Alison... people promoting peace has been using this word for years now, and wouldn't they be offended if I told them this? He also says that there is no need to offend anyone...not a single soul, because you wouldn't like to offend yourself, would you?
And listen to this...copyright is when you give anybody the right to copy...ha ha ha!!! What kind of a weird thing is that? And why would that be needed? I get tickles when I ask him that!


To rape is human (posted on: 02-11-15)
what's going on?

Final version, edited by Nic (ifyouplease) Rape is human. It is neither inhuman, nor beastly. Beasts don't rape in jungles for heaven's sake. Human beings do, in cities, towns and in villages. Does it hurt to see rape as human? Is that the reason you want to see rape as inhuman, And hiding behind the beastly hype alleviates the pain? But this won't stop it. From a new-born to an old Your indifferent mind is blind and cold Beasts would speak of horror and shame If they had words to speak the same To be beastly, is heavenly All beasts are materialized souls; To some it might sound silly For their eyes prey only on those holes. If women decide to take off the seed Pluck the germ of 'birth' From the face of the earth The sperms in your tool would shiver for a rest Wither away in time, without conception Civilization would cease. Rapists wouldn't be born From any womb To rape again.
Archived comments for To rape is human
ifyouplease on 03-11-2015
To rape is human
your message is not clear and i think odd use of english language is the culprit. i really like most of your work so i mean well.

Author's Reply:
Comment from the US
Ralonda N. Simmons, Security Research Analyst, Assoc. Editor
I think this poem is the worst thing I have ever seen. What were you hoping to accomplish by saying such things? I fear for the women around you.
Comments from India
Padmaja Iyengar, Writer, Reviewer
A hard hitting poem meant to hurt where it hurts the most! Thanks for sharing an unambiguous message, Supratik! Sadly, such poems are not reaching those beasts in "human" garb!
Pankajam, Poet
So harsh and hard hitting. The rage is visible throughout the poem.
Elpi (Pen name), Writer, Poet
So harsh a poem which expresses its anger against the sufferers too who are not reaching. Sends shivers

Nic!
First of all, thank you for your candid view on the language of the poem. It has received similar comments from the Western world. Have enlisted the most harsh comment by Ralonda N. Simmons.
In India, there are various forms of Englishes that float around. However, I understand that distorting the language is an inexcusable offense. But with rape and other forms of violences, who cares, especially when it is used as a vehicle to get into the human minds. I was very disturbed by what I heard on TV channels the other day; a three-month old violated by a ... let’s stop it here. I went into fits and the poem came out. I locked myself completely until I took the rage out of me, now I don’t have it...I accept that in my India, it is going to happen..again and again. The mistake was that the poem was written in an uncontrolled state, when I wanted to reach out to those who are the ‘actants’.
Now, coming to your pointing out of the culprit... look at ‘human’ objectively... it is neither good, nor bad... simple meaning would be action by a human being...therefore, ‘rape’ is also committed by human beings. The adjective ‘inhuman’ has nothing to do with it...I think the word should be defunct from all lexicons. In the same way, look at the word beastly; people who are good in English or hail from the English world would have challenge in accepting that beastly activities are beautiful, because through time, we have associated the term beastly as something pejorative and unbecoming of a human being. So the language part, although in English, has got a different connotation. The question is then why did I post this in UKAuhors or in sites where the western world would have access. I took writerism as the reason; if you have noticed, in the category of prosetry, the language I use is almost similar. Interestingly enough Nic, while speaking English too, we use different accents just to connect with the audience. In this poem, I cannot expect an Alison, or a David or Sue...never. So I am indebted to you for your comments, and I do know that you mean well. Even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter because any comment, any interpretation is the readers’ right...this is what I believe.
Best.
Supratik

ifyouplease on 03-11-2015
To rape is human
i understood that you tried to write the way you described, maybe your message would have been clearer if you chose to avoid "englishes" but to write as properly as possible. such difficult subjects can only benefit from formality. you're fluent enough in English to do it. and only you can judge if this particular subject is worthy of more of your time. cheers.





Author's Reply:
Nic...I have changed it..please see. Your are right in saying that 'such difficult subjects can only benefit from formality'; however, this is true on one level, people who'd see or read this version will not commit the crime, those who commit be also readers, this is the intent of the earlier version. To think that even now, as I am writing to you, some faceless person (who is NOT a beast) out there is violating someone. Thank you so much for taking the time. Please feel freeeeee (ALWAYS) to suggest any correction. Best. Supratik

Supratik on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
Nic, It is only fair that I keep the earlier version so readers know to what extent the favor was done. Thanks a bunch. If you disapprove of the changed version, do let me know, will change. Best. Surpatik

Author's Reply:

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
Rape is human.
It is neither inhuman, nor beastly.
Beasts don’t rape in jungles for heaven’s sake.
Human beings do, in cities, towns and in villages.
Does it hurt to see rape as human?
Is that the reason you want to see rape as inhuman,
And hiding behind the beastly hype
alleviates the pain?
But this won't stop it.

From a new-born to an old
Your indifferent mind is blind and cold
Beasts would speak of horror and shame
If they had words to speak the same

To be beastly, is heavenly
All beasts are materialized souls;
To some it might sound silly
For their eyes prey only on those holes.

If women decide to take off the seed
Pluck the germ of ‘birth’
From the face of the earth
The sperms in your tool would shiver for a rest
Wither away in time, without conception
Civilization would cease.

Rapists wouldn’t be born
From any womb
To rape again.

that's probably my idea of what you are trying to portray here.

but in another reply i will try to help you see some things.

Author's Reply:
I think this is perfect. I like the word conception...it is indeed easy for everyone to understand. Maybe this was what Pia was trying to tell me, which I overlooked. Thanks a bunch!

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
well what does your name mean? i think you told me, i know Dheeraj means patience, Anil means air, Yash means victory, Pratik means symbol etc.

you said

Your are right in saying that 'such difficult subjects can only benefit from formality'; however, this is true from the judgement perspective, not from the perspective of those who commit the crime...how do you reach them? With a stick? Will that help me women? Or will it result in more reactions, in more rapes? To think that even now, as I am writing to you, some faceless person (who is NOT a beast) out there is violating someone.

why would anyone want to reach a rapist? would it help him or would that make him feel he's done his duty in proving that there are at least two different :hypes: the one that violates and the other that explains and helps.

in what way could this help humanity?

humans rape in general, even animals, there are dog brothels in Germany and elsewhere for example, this summer a female dog was raped to death in Turkey.

this is clearly a matter of hormonal evil anomalies definitely of the more masculine kind.

you have to think outside of India, rapists exist everywhere and molesters too, there isn't a place on this planet and there isn't a time period without such evil.

a couple here, immigrants killed their little daughter and some say they belonged to a satanist group, chopped the little kid on a specific day, cooked it and gave it to the stray dogs.

a young woman here virgin too was raped almost to death by an illegal immigrant from Pakistan before the last olympics.

a greek man raped killed and chopped

and we had Katsoulas and Dimitrokallis, famous satanists here, that raped and killed burned the corpses of blonde women.

so basically it's a matter of male aggression. isn't it? not of indian not of Greek or German or Turkish.

the males have a big big problem, something is very fucked up already in their minds and bad upbringing can trigger such behaviors more easily than in women.

who controls all these things? who is responsible?

that's the real story. so if you reach with or without a stick any criminal you will do nothing at all without reaching the real story behind the criminal behaviour that characterizes humans on this planet.

Author's Reply:
Pratik means symbol, and su means good, so supratik means good symbol.
Thank you so much for the insight. I totally agree with you. But I don not agree on the dog raping a bitch to death. In a dog brothel it is possible because they are trained, show me any untrained dog raping another, or any animal raping another. Animals are the sweetest creatures; for our convenience we say a snake is mischievous, fox cunning, wolf you know what. This is not the truth...all animals are realised souls, conscious of who they are, even the most tamasik (the likes of dogs, lions, those who sleep most of the time) are self-conscious...at every moment they are conscious...this is one, and the second thing is that all animals are nature abiding, they wake up and go to sleep with the movement of the stars. Please, please do your research to erase the thought that animals also rape..no, no, no, they don't. IF tomorrow you meet me and see me kissing a snake, what would you say, or think Nic?? That Supratik knows black magic, is it? If Supratik can kiss a snake, it will be because Supratik has become self conscious, snake will bite when Supratik is not...this is an unmistakable law of nature which scientists will never come to terms with.
I am going to read your thoughts now, I just read it twice, and it is very beautifully written.
Cheers!

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
no, humans raped dogs, not dogs other dogs. they are humane you see, dogs i mean. so my point is something diabolical has taken over human spirit.



dog brothels are for humans who rape dogs.



gettit?



and in Turkey it was men that raped the poor stray female dog.



Author's Reply:
What?? I totally missed it!!! Was I in an uncontrolled state of mind that Nic was going to disagree that I got clouded... even a reasonably trained (I would like to think that) person like me can get trapped you see... such a dud I am... now that I understood, I am crying (civilization also tells me crying is being gay for a guy, do you think being gay is safe? no, definitely not... I am really confused..)where are we heading to Nic...where! human beings rape dogs?! Upon hearing this, I have to take out my anger, because Mr. Sex up there tells me that anger is your enemy. When I am reasonably done, I would be able to empathize with those kids who do this...maybe they are trying to say, 'please accept us?' but I am confused.

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
in fact it has happened in the jungle, certain species started raping other species, after HUMANS again affected their environment to complete distraction.

so, has someone or something affected OUR environment??

Author's Reply:
This needs to change...and change it I will.

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
i think this poem of yours should be discussed and not misunderstood, i mean i clearly saw what you were trying to portray.

could it be that your "englishes" over there, touch a very sensitive side of the western english-speaking world with this word choice?

and by the way i managed to see clearly what you were and are trying to convey because i went through this phase of writing either too formal english not even english-speaking people would understand or "englishes from over here"

so I will promote it. it's a huge subject. and you are very brave to touch it but a bit naive because you used "englishes" instead of proper selection of suitable western-based words.

anyway..

cheers.
(I'm from Greece by the way in case you have not already understood and I also write poetry in a foreign language directly.. so I can understand.)

Author's Reply:
I thought you were from my France...glad to know you are from my Greece. I get it...clearly I get it. I have actually written a play with the kind of English that floats in India, with syntax and grammar all jinxed.. have shown it to people around...they liked it, but I think for a larger audience I have to neutralize the language.
I will write in more detail about the beastly bit in the poems to come.
I can't tell you what a wonderful time I had.
UKAuthors!!!! Thanks thanks thanks!
And to Nic...my cyber-hugs please!

ifyouplease on 04-11-2015
To rape is human
i doubt it is kids, i think they are adults. who would ask acceptance by sodomizing a dog?

no. they are lunatics. beyond cure.



Author's Reply:

gwirionedd on 05-11-2015
To rape is human
"Beasts don’t rape in jungles for heaven’s sake" -

I'm pretty sure that they do. I don't think female animals want sex as often as they get it. Female cats, for example, do not enjoy sex, because male cats have spiked penises. Sex is painful for them.


"If women decide to take off the seed
Pluck the germ of ‘birth’
From the face of the earth"

If women did what? What do you mean? Destroyed their ovaries? Made themselves infertile?

I don't understand the point being made here, I'm afraid...





Author's Reply:
It might seem a little disconnected, but I’d urge you to listen to the discourse of Chimmamanda Adichie on what she’d like to call as ‘the danger of the single story’. The link is as follows: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9Ihs241zeg

When a person starts and signs off without names while commenting, it means the person in question is either upset or angry. However, this is a judgement which can be polarized, because I am also going to do the same, albeit without being upset or angry.

Now talking about judgement I must say that I wasn’t clear on the ‘pretty sure’ part. Does that mean absolutely sure, or not so sure? Or sure by reading huge data on animals written by human beings whose main purpose is to depict how ‘cruel’, how inhumane the animal world is? How did the cat communicate? Well if I told you that the same cat came to me and whispered in my ears saying, no dude I don’t rape...it’s just a foreplay which may not be as romantic as yours, but a foreplay it is, what would you say...cat crap? Please allow me to draw your attention to a significant part of the discourse of this very acclaimed African writer named Chimmamanda Adichie (the link is given above). She said that the idea of African mainly evolved from Western Literature. There was this London merchant called John Locke who described the Africans in 1561 as ‘beasts who have no houses’ and that ‘they are also people without heads, having their mouths and eyes in their breasts’ (my earlier version rightly disapproved by Nic had two of these words, beasts and breasts). She continues saying that it was just the beginning of selling African stories to the West, for even in the words of Rudyard Kipling, Africans are ‘half devil, half child’. Fortunately, these beasts have a tongue to speak, and they spoke through myriads of African writers to disprove the authenticity of this kind of selling African stories in the West. The cat in question doesn’t have a tongue that can manipulate sounds we know as words.

Please understand that the world teaches through verbal communication, through words written or spoken, but it learns through non-verbal communication. I wouldn’t give examples here because it can deviate, may be some other time.

The second part of your comment is interesting...that you don’t get it. In this connexion, I must let you know that the poem was meant to be written for the Indian audience. However, I thought of posting this in UKA for a different reason; I don’t regret now, because rape is universal. In India, rape is increasing at an alarming rate; although you will find Indians addressing women as mother, sister; they also have different queues for ladies to show respect, but while raping no one is spared. Interestingly, the judgement is always towards the object ‘woman’; we Indians think that if a lady doesn’t wear a saree, if she wears jeans, she needs male attention, and therefore can be raped (a non-verbal learning). We get aroused you see...you will marvel at our power of expression to justify rape... (agar ghar khula rehega, to chor to ageyi hi..meaning if the doors are not locked then the house will naturally attract burglars...please don’t get angry here..anger doesn’t help). This logic is not quite valid because we have raped nurses, muslim ladies with burkha, covered from top to toe...hang on we have also raped three-month old babies.. this happens because a three-month old doesn’t really wear anything, and we get aroused..so it’s natural you see...and this happens all the time in the animal kingdom....to ye to nachural hai (pronounce nachural as na as in nasty, chu as in choose, ral as in raaal)... it happens all the time with kutta billi (dogs and cats)...therefore, it will continue. Nearly all rape cases are pending. Earlier judges and policemen used to blame the ladies... you must have provoked those men...you are like a whore...look at how you are dressed...just like a westerner...westerners have open sex...they are like that only. This is India...you have to dress like a polite lady...cover your breasts...else we don’t know. Things like these were said in courts as well. Thanks to media, this mindset has changed in the urban areas.

The suggestion of doing away with ovaries for a bunch of rapists would naturally seem odd to any meaningful person. Unfortunately, in India, only extreme statements work. Please do not discount the ‘if’ part I pray. However, if women decide they can banish human birth from the face of this earth. Only animals would stay. I will address this judgement towards animals in my subsequent writes.
I am profusely sorry for offending, confusing you. Thank you for commenting...thank you very much.

gwirionedd on 06-11-2015
To rape is human
There's no need to apologise, you certainly haven't offended me. I was just confused about what you were trying to say.

India has a population problem of course, however I don't believe that rendering all Indian women infertile and therefore wiping out the entire Indian race is the answer to this problem, or the problem of rape.

You're an interesting guy, Supratik, and you make me laugh (in a good way).

Take care,

Archie



Author's Reply:
Thanks Archie... I might disagree with the poem, but not with any sane person. If I make you laugh, can I also make you conceive of a weapon-less world...let me know, because if extremely erudite persons like you ever concur on this... the world, the real sexy and rich world teeming with obscene wealth will surface. Yours, Supratik 🙂


Fox (posted on: 02-11-15)
🙂

O fox! Lovely little fox, My sweet innocuous animal! Cunning! Which orthodox Sketched you the title? O fox! For fables' sake, pardon us. My innocent bestial, please note, To picture our meanness and mistrusts, In were you framed; made a scapegoat.

Archived comments for Fox
sweetwater on 04-11-2015
Fox
Ahh, my type of poem, as you said your last poem wasn't, I didn't comment as I didn't quite understand what your viewpoint on the subject was, but I think I may have an idea of what you were trying to convey.
This one however is delightful, so nice to read praise for this little misunderstood creature. Sue, : )

Author's Reply:
Sue!! Thanks a myriad times. When a dog shows us its teeth, we get scared. It happens because we are trained to get scared. I have this feeling that even when they show you their teeth, they are trying to say, hey please come and play...play, play and play. The same thing happens with a snake, a wolf, a tiger, and a lion...they are all the same. But please do not blame human beings for not understanding this, no one can risk one's life, so it is okay if people get scared, but it is not quite okay to project them as cunning, mischievous, jealous. They don't know of such things, ha ha ha! They just don't know, they've not been groomed you see!
Thank you so very much for stopping by.
Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 07-11-2015
Fox
Hi Supratik.
I love foxes. I fed one in my garden once. It was an urban fox and starving. I crept into the bushes with some dog food and we sat for a while eye to eye. They have the most amazing eyes! Very all-seeing.
We spoke telepathically and I held out my hand and it came and ate the food. I went back into the house and came out and put a collar and lead on it and led it into the garage where I left it while I phoned the RSPCA

They took it away to the Highland wildlife park where I pray he lived a happy life free and with a full belly. I hate what we do to animals and the many people who treat foxes like vermin.
Yes, they can carry many diseases including Rabies...but they only live according to their nature.
We do animals a great disservice to attribute human characteristics to them.

They are far better than that.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Eye to eye with a fox must have been a bliss, you would have imbibed a whole lot of purity through the interaction. Infinite thanks for what you did. Love. Supratik


Eagle (posted on: 30-10-15)
...

An eagle A success-symbol Flying high But never looking at the sky A lone eagle Just another beautiful bird Beyond the human herd Let it enjoy and fly
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Friends (posted on: 30-10-15)
🙂 enjoy...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eakKfY5aHmY

Friends! They've qualities a bit special and stark, A mlange of a parent, sibling, spouse and a child A tad informal, outside they reside, off the family mark, Yet in them, we look for our home, a comfort, we find inside. Friends! They're ageless to the very core, Same age, or decades younger or older to you, Could be miles apart, or a person next door, They define and defy all boundaries, milieu. Friends! They're a keep, not a symbol to flaunt, Celebrities, erudite, panwalas*, all the same, Fools judge their company, duds praise or taunt. Market conditions of guilt, pride or shame. Friends! They may not always stand beside When you are in dire or pressing need, For that, if you brushed them aside, It's your failure indeed. Friends! They become you, you your friends become, With them you dive in, keep afloat, swim or sink, With them around, your sailing world becomes a home, A shore-less bond beyond rests in the ocean of friendship. Note: *panwalas - This may also be spelled as "paanwallah". Literally taken, this means "betel leaf seller". It is composed of two Hindi words, "Paan", which means "betel leaf" and "wala" (or "wallah") which means "person associated with". Betel leaf and areca nut is a common breath freshener in India and there are other ingredients added as well depending on region, similar to sausage varieties in German towns. It is a chewable product. (Source:Wikipedia)
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the relentless poet (posted on: 26-10-15)
...

with high sugar, bp and other physical plights the poet writes through the dysfunctional ears, myopic eyes the poet types in an armchair, with a stick that wobbles the poet scribbles with wilting legs, quivering hands the poet dares to stand despite migraine and toothache, the poet giggles the words on those pages scrawl, squiggle despite wars in the air in every corner stony tones that joke and smirk the jerk, with the restless mind writes what drives the poet, no one knows would the poems anywhere go to the insane, matters the least out in the sun or in foggy mist drying, drizzling, or pouring tools aiding or ailing the writing continues of the sighs and the hues in the world around with the spirit of wonder yet untapped, unbound
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Gothicman on 26-10-2015
the relentless poet
Supratik! I wrote a poem that's almost a mirror copy of this, almost an echo effect, called "Relentless Ageing" last August, it's uncanny how similar they both are! Hahahaha!
I was thinking of binning it, but I might leave it there now! Hahahaha!
Highly perceptive and entertaining!
Trevor

P.S. Supratik, I've removed it now from the 3rd page and replaced it with a slightly revised "A Pathetic Poet's Loss Of Pathos" Hahahaha!
All good fun!

Author's Reply:
Trevor! I am deeply moved... I am tempted to believe that great men are fools, ha ha ha! Even the name has one word in common! Uncanny indeed! I am glad you liked it.
Supratik

sweetwater on 27-10-2015
the relentless poet
Your poem certainly does tell the truth for those of us who, despite all the odds and the rejections thrown against us still feel the tremendous need to put our words on paper, a great write, and a great insight into the poet's world. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue, for your kind words. Best. Supratik


The fall (posted on: 26-10-15)
🙂

flowers in love with the grasses detached from the holders the sounds of waters from the nearby brooks and those of the birds marries the fall the garden a stage of fallen flowers a bed, full of lovers with fresh brown whispering leaves night and day ceaselessly unite here in moments, bloom through millions of dawn and dusk the numerous cracking, befriend, celebrate the falling waves of time, fall on the shores folks write, written seeds of love-thoughts, drop on the ground this is nature, in permanence loving and making love in multiple folds, old anew o sense, loud and mute a sad wall, an island accursed, live and stand a death that does not die, ages perpetually distant its height cannot smell the grass from where waves wither its cold feet a non-living, inert symbol trained, groomed, never to fall all around, surrounded by breaking, falling sounds of love ready to lose a bee just pierced a hole at the bottom a cracking sound with an ouch, it went to the other side busy in the same way falling, failing, and falling in all of this the sole wall looks old
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The last shadow (posted on: 23-10-15)
last is never the last

the last shadow disappears from the trees the sky sheds off the clouds complain rains melancholic day drowned in alcohol stays sunk until the dog at the corridor of my garden howls brings the intoxicated day to a halt everything around changes for some moments a gap an in-between it will eventually get back clouds will hang again shadows will re-appear water is the rock of Sisyphus curse, curse, curse what bliss this curse is I walk down the corridor stairs my legs have rain-sounds jhhum jhhum jhhum filled with the glory of falling all absolutes become obsolete blurred, nonsense I lie flat in my garden rains cover me... moments with openness without shelter the dog howls the sound, blunt and content In this gap, curse or bliss I know Last is never the last.
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stormwolf on 24-10-2015
The last shadow
A very atmospheric poem Supratick.You write with confidence that comes over to the reader.
Are you speaking of the monsoon? I love the rain and often, if I cannot sleep, i put on rain sounds to lull me. I reckon I would get fed up of a lot of rain though, as once, shortly after I moved to this city, it rained for what seemed like an eternity.
I think you are sensitive to weather, same as me. I think the poem would benefit from being broken up with some punctuation to fully bring out the feeling and the meaning.
Enjoyed your poem.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Thank you for your comment. Anything that is in excess has the fed-up element ha ha ha! Sunshine or rain. The poem uses rain to talk about the process which creates it, and in that water becomes the rock of Sisyphus. Sky batters the cloud to make the earth shelter-less, but strangely enough, only when the shadow disappears that we come in contact with clarity... however it stays only for a moment when everything becomes blurred, non-sense; in time, sure enough, the shadow re-appears. Whatever be it, the indomitable water, much like the rock of Sisyphus, does perform and deliver, which is life-in-itself, life-for-itself... it is existential in that way.
Please suggest punctuation... wanted to let it flow with errors, non-stop, but I understand the importance of not losing balance... so please let me know.
Best.
Supratik


The source of entertainment (posted on: 23-10-15)
The object 'entertainment'

Literature of the world Wounded, hurt... Operas weep, Sense engrossed in the narration Pain becomes the healer. Dying mind, history's only hero. People who fight, put behind the bars In worship-cages, locked for good. Dearth, horror, scarcity re-appear into the fore Poverty, a permanent guest, hoists richness Insanity, which is beautiful, mesmerising, becomes ugly Weapons re-surface as the only truth Imprisoned fighter, banished in the pages, Wars and destructions, followed with awe With utmost care, and sincerity Bought and sold Flawlessly, all over the world. Operas re-weep Literature re-wound Senses drown In the mindful, elite entertainment
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Pervert (posted on: 19-10-15)
🙂

Water boiling... morning tea in the making My east-facing kitchen and my bedroom get the morning sun My wife also suggested a glass door in the balcony From where comes every morning the soft sun My wife, asleep... half of her body is sun's The rest, shadow's...my world looks beautiful, complete I smell her hair, my black nest She's my married wife ... Married wife? What kind of an expression is that! I am standing...looking empty and hollow...am I a pervert? Suddenly a rage ran through my nerves Desdemona! What on earth are you doing with him? O, that's why the glass, is it? Wait...kill him I will... I pull the heavy curtain She takes the quilt and embraces it inside her O the quilt, the bed sheet, the pillows All seem like scattered handkerchiefs... Desdemona! Am I a pervert? 'Hon, where's the tea?' Just a minute darling... about turn...the mirror traps me in horror I rush to the kitchen. Boy! The sun has washed all the water away 'Honey...where's my tea?'I know a full honey is not so sweet. A wind blows through the leaves of the tree that my kitchen covers The one we planted some years ago. Honey! Just a minute love! No, no... I am not going there until the tea is done Through the breezy branches, the sun winks at me sniggering in the roaring chirps 'Pervert'!
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Bozzz on 20-10-2015
Pervert
Delightful drama, very amusing short story. In our country, honey is usually reserved for coffee (or porridge) - don't know why we do not try it in tea!.Enjoyed...David

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! Well the honey in question can be mixed with sunshine too! The comment has an unmistakable bozzz buzz... much liked it. Thanks for stopping by! Yours, Supratik


we can do without weapons (posted on: 19-10-15)
This poem is in response to the most alarming screech 'I will shoot you by a child in a school. Where it happened is not important, because it happened in my world, your world, our world.

'I will shoot you', a child says to another child. The trigger pulls, the child kills and is killed. Children reflect grown up children's wild burden, Destined to hate, hit, and hurt with the excuse of a reason. Ye civilised world, worthy women and men! Did you hear the sound, the alarm, the screeching siren? If this doesn't trigger to lock out weapon factories and convert them into flower-houses, then what would, my dears, with how much more bloody tears? What is your fear to do away with those think anew you need to, put an end to these shows. Weapons are free, and they're on the loose Children o heavens be; let them play, amuse. Drop those hoity-toity toys For the sake of those budding girls and boys Children are shooting stars, weighed down, heavy, with our sad scars, change your mindless, reckless game, help them shoot out love, without guilt or shame. Eons of years have gone by, failures of primitive outcry attraction still is to repeat, humankind's utter defeat. Think afresh and choose a weapon-less winsome place the world will win its space none will ever lose. Dive in deep to know its useless disastrous root the need for weapons would go children, all ages, would never ever shoot.
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sweetwater on 22-10-2015
we can do without weapons
Very thoughtful and thought provoking poem, society never learns does it, we seem to be getting ever more violent. It scares me how little life is respected. So dreadful, I think because very little seems to convey disgust and horror any more, so much is handed out as being perfectly normal and acceptable when it really is neither Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue for stopping by and leaving your trace so beautiful. You see, the very thought of going weapon-less is so scary... you just close your eyes and think of a weapon-less world, you'd jump out and say o hell it's not possible. This is how we have been groomed. However, my inner calling or whatever the crap you call it, says it is possible to go weapon-less...it's an absolute non-sense with a perpetual lose-lose approach.
Only when the whole world will decide (maybe in 76 years from now...in 2091, when you and I will come into this world in a different costume!) to drop the weapons and discover alternative ways of justice or show of power to function on a day-to-day basis can we say we are really civilized, that we have ceased to operate from the mindset of living in jungles. It is possible...the decision is simple and devoid of complications.
Best.
Supratik


Here's to health (posted on: 16-10-15)
here's wishing you health and happiness

Here's to health Stop! Don't binge on 'past' food. An indulgence that attracts and destroys the system from within, the only self-medication, with breath as guru* is meditation; rest, injurious. If you want to laugh aloud, take all your violence out, or want to stimulate your gray matter look for none, but nature just look... look at her. The shameless butterflies and bees with those flowers Brooks with those grasses, leaves and the trees Birds with those fruits Cattle with those barks and the meadows O boy! What they do! All through the day! With love in the air, all creatures, timid and brave from elephants to ants will oust your gray, the giggle-waves and pleasure-rains streaming through the nerves O it doesn't in the least matter Which age-traveller you are Watch! It can even wet your pants! Practise this for some time till you feel light. ... almost feather-weight when you're up and about in the beautiful merry-go-round you'll see your reflections, ...all around... Go! Say hello to the world. *guru - teacher; the word has two parts, viz. 'gu' and 'ru'...'gu' means obfuscation or darkness and 'ru' means the person who helps clear the darkness
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stormwolf on 16-10-2015
Heres to health
Beautiful, Supratik! I even felt uplifted reading it. I could not agree more.
Nature has always been a mother to me. She is a mentor, teacher, and shoulder to cry on. I feel more connected to nature and animals than I ever have to humans if the truth be known. Of course, I use crystals in my healing sessions for it is my world view that everything in the created universe is Divine and therefore an expression of God.
Why then do we find it strange that when the world and it’s ways gets too much for us, the remedy is to take off our shoes and reconnect to the grounding energy of Mother earth while our spirits commune with the wind and the trees
Alison x

ps many great lines too numerous to mention but it gets off to a great start with this

Stop! Don't binge on 'past' food.
An indulgence that attracts and destroys
the system from within,
the only self-medication, with breath as guru*
is meditation; rest, injurious.


Yes! Never mind 'fast food'....think on binging on "past food"
As the Buddha said. "Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die"
Our thoughts either uplift and feed or poison and destroy. The breath is indeed the bridge between heaven and earth.

Author's Reply:
Alison! I am speechless! Marvellous response! I hope you have forgiven me for being hazy in some of my poems. Best. Suoratik

Gothicman on 18-10-2015
Heres to health
Your'e playing with your flute again Supratik! Hahaha! Love this descriptive Kama Sutra style, one with the universe, exclamations of sheer joy in performing well in such matters. I finally got the gist of that other poem of yours, thanks to my slow inner Guru Eat well at the trough of love, for old we become too soon! Very exotic to the point of exaltation!
Best, Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you Trevor for your shivering response! Much appreciated. Best. Supratik


Wonder in the oil canvas (posted on: 16-10-15)
Nothing to say, but I can explain if required. I must admit that this poem comes from a failed attempt of writing an inter-textual play. In the play I wrote, or tried to write, there were these characters from very popular plays belonging to different literary movements; viz. classicism to existentialism, talking to each other from their own fixed, created positions. I found it difficult to continue and, therefore, have scrapped it, or should I say shelved it. The theme behind this inter-textual nonsense was to bring out the sickness from society and banish the disease once and for all.

Lucky smiles.... Hamlet and Romeo have come to join Didi and Gogo under the tree. A song... 'Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me,' Portia looks at lady Macbeth's hands just arrived, they look at the new entrants and courtesy. Portia tries to listen to the song... 'Noh', she says, 'it's far from a greenwood tree in the middle of a desert deforested... fiction is overpowering reality this is not true, not real what preposterous impertinence it doesn't in the least, make any sense'. She concentrates on those pardon-seeking hands counting numbers in fingers! Suddenly they all see Joan of Arc, Emma, Elisa Doolittle in the team, how horrid for they do see Shylock, Hitler, Black Peter, Peter Pan... the children which took away the Pied Piper all playing in the never-to-be-lost field unworried. With them, are those two famous shepherds there is no cattle though, no herd the lover boys look so much the same, are they twins! Only the hands of Van Gogh know zoom...splash...screech... in the chaos, characters statue... their eyes getting bigger and bigger they see a hollow in those helping pairs of hands amidst a clutter of sand... they finally look at the world ... a zero land... And in there they see All the other characters Victims and victors once Now holding hands Synergised with fusion Floating around In the oily canvas Amol* is fascinated, as always Spoke to these newfound strange travellers or passers-by about the King's arrival Doesn't understand what on earth In the tableau happened, or is still happening He only wonders, never questions, not any more He's thus destined, created through sense With an out-of-the-world confusion (Looks at Lucky and says) I am in between Could it be that or this If ever I have to ask I know there's always my Sudha* Lucky smiles (Amol covers himself with the quilt...Olympus moves...hooosh... he goes to sleep, is sure to meet the king tomorrow... he found her Sudha in all the characters in the tableau... she will surely bring him flowers and he won't die...he chuckles ''Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old (child), Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.'') Note: About Amol* and Sudha* There are only two characters Amol and Sudha, which many readers, especially those outside of Bengal or of India, wouldn't know. These two characters have been created by Tagore in the play 'Dakghar' or 'Post Office'. Summary The Post Office (Bengali: Dak Ghar) is a 1912 play by Rabindranath Tagore. It concerns Amol, a child confined to his adopted uncle's home by an incurable disease. W. Andrew Robinson and Krishna Dutta note that the play continues to occupy a special place in Tagore's reputation, both within Bengal and in the wider world. It was written in four days. Amol stands in Madhav's courtyard and talks to passers-by, and asks in particular about the places they go. The construction of a new post office nearby prompts the imaginative Amol to fantasize about receiving a letter from the King or being his postman. The village headman mocks Amol, and pretends the illiterate child has received a letter from the king promising that his royal physician will come to attend him. The physician really does come, with a herald to announce the imminent arrival of the king; Amol, however, dies as Sudha comes to bring him flowers. W.B. Yeats was the first person to produce an English-language version of the play; he also wrote a preface to it. It was performed in English for the first time in 1913 by the Irish Theatre in London with Tagore himself in the attendance. The Bengali original was staged in Calcutta in 1917. It had a successful run in Germany with 105 performances and its themes of liberation from captivity and zest for life resonated in its performances in concentration camps where it was staged during World War II. Juan Ramn Jimnez translated it into Spanish; it was translated into French by Andr Gide and read on the radio the night before Paris fell to the Nazis. A Polish version was performed under the supervision of Janusz Korczak in the Warsaw ghetto.
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Fish out of water (posted on: 12-10-15)
🙂

In the garden-pond... World peace days, Angry peace organisations, Big fish peace, a small fry out of water
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sweetwater on 13-10-2015
Fish out of water
Did not understand this one at first, but re-read and it was very clear, it's very clever holds wisdom and truth in few words. The peace fish need to grow beyond small fry. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Sue! Thank you so much for stopping by. Your comments, much appreciated. Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 15-10-2015
Fish out of water
Very clever if I read it correctly.
It is taking all I have to witness what is happening as the world is distracted by other things
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Yes bang on. Thank you Alison for stopping by. Best. Supratik


The world speaks (posted on: 12-10-15)
...

I am the world, A prosaic plot. While rhymes, as I speak or write in your hearts could go groping for words Let me see if my thoughts That seek energies from your beats would be legible enough. My leaves and my grasses tremble in fear Shivering foams whisper Scared, wonder Will at all The visible divides from the minds disappear? I wish I were a little coddled. Without skirmish, feuds of bruises, scratches Human beings, the most intelligent Hurting me with powerful weapons Powerless, weak, primitive still They appear rough. I wish They sat together Anywhere On the mountains, hilltops, rivers, oceans And discussed... How to function without weapons The reason to fight in the jungles Is so strong, stubborn But today! Of what use are they I am theirs, all theirs, anyway I will be there, as it were, All along, all the way! Silly, To focus willy-nilly Outside of me Sorry, I am plenty To their urge for poverty I can never gift them scarcity. (The look shifts...pouring with affection... the dawn breaks...with brooks, waves and dewdrops, the world now directly talks) Americas, Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia, Oceania You divided me first into continents Then into countries, cities Regions, languages, religions, dogmas, faiths With each divide you still host and adorn, A weapon is reborn Its reflection comes to you in various types and forms. How many weapons would you have right now? Right here! Do you have any account, any number? From your indulgent slumber, Won't you ever wake up, my dears! In the factories where they are produced Invent something else that will not abuse Me, my worth and my wealth I wish you happiness, peace and health. I want rich countries to remain rich, Let wealth for the poor come within their reach... How This is what! This is what you need to think and engage I am abundant and endless Think anew; think afresh, for my sake, for my sake! You worship gods, but devils you hold dear Whom you respect you keep afar Whom you follow, you yourselves dread and fear. Take my word Look at me, please I am the only visible boon from your God. Weapons are countless, a weeping stock Built, invented with honesty and sincerity to kill Drop those objects in my oceans. Or better still With all of them, You can build a country A new skill, it's a new skill! The slaughter pieces will shelter A memento, will it be, a reminder. Build it with the same vim and vigour An iron place for the tired and the fatigued in them Don't know if I'm planting a seed here, Speaking to you, or just writing a poem. I plant this thought to function weapon-less Yes, weapon-less Our only pride, only growth True mark of progress To be able to function weapon-less It is possible, it is time now, give me your word Try it for a change, in medias res I am all you have, focus! I am your world. (The look shifts...affection unbound... the world now speaks, all around...) Let them Let them look at the shivering leaves and grasses The whispering foams trembling on the beaches Released, unafraid Let them look! They are my new goose bumps On thinking how pampered will I be! When on this very stage, at long last A new drama will begin Through the winsome heartbeats! A world anthem will sing When weapons and guns Would belong to the past They'd cease to be used in me
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stormwolf on 15-10-2015
The world speaks
A heartfelt plea.I resonate with it.

I wish I were a little coddled.
Without skirmish, feuds of bruises, scratches

OMG so do I!
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! Now that's a good one!
Best. Supratik


Hey U (posted on: 05-10-15)
...

Hey U Men in uniform prepared to lay their lives For their nation, they're ready to sacrifice Trained to kill the enemies, dead Red tilak on some of their foreheads Painted by their mothers and wives War will begin in a while National anthem playing on the background Filling the air with pride, all around The red tilak looks so familiar, no? Wait a minute, where did I see this? Ah! I remember on the satis, who were burnt alive, and in the background, there would be music too... so satis would go to heaven...ah...I remember! Hey U! Not a word anymore! Don't you dare remind us! Of those primitive onerous omnibus That is done with and over for sure What a shame it was, that sacrifice Of innocent lives You see I don't see any difference I am sorry. Do you think I should leave? For instance, I find this mindset very primitive dudes... you are still not able to find a mechanism to stop war, to function without weapons and arms. How's this any different from those girls burnt alive? Hey U! Not a word anymore! With those unfortunate girls You equate these noble soldiers Don't you dare compare!!!!!! Hang on then... imagine what's happening on the other side? Don't you dare compare!!!!! Hee hee, then do you think I should leave... why don't you let the soldiers and the men in uniform do something else...hmm... like working for the poor, for the environment...hmm there are quite a few things to do you know, which are far better than this delinquent game...you could stop this war, and any war for that matter. How? Talk to the dudes on the other side... you see there are no sides in this round world... hee hee...like there's no horizon, hee hee... there's no east, west...these are all conventions, not the reality you know... you see the sun? Does it set or rise? No, never... hee hee but yet we see and just because we do, doesn't mean it's true. So grow up...please? You did not answer the question!!! Well how would I know... I know nothing of anything you see... hee hee National anthem playing in the background Filling the air with pride, all around You have no place here In this pure, patriotic, pious atmosphere A traitor, a betrayer that you are You wanted to leave hey u? We think you better do Ok dudes...I think you guys are really angry with me... I have to be with the farmers... we found an interesting way to plough without fertilizers... we also invented a mechanism to purify the rivers and the air with prayer and energy...and you know what... we are a team where there are also these people who use the same red tilak, few dudes detest it but that's okay... we are all working together to provide food and home to everyone in my country...your country sorry...(self-chuckles...when will I get my possessives right!) but we need soldiers like these you see? Standing there! Also we need money yaar and you're wasting all this money and lives on wars, you go yaar... before you kill me, let me flee for with or without those red tilaks on, like possessed morons do I want to die... so bye bye hey u... morons...u said morons to selfless souls as these? Aha! So you admire selflessness? Doubtless, yes! What if countries also did the same Of neighbours they thought instead? To wars morons I said, not to them It won't suit your artificial caprice For I know in this plastic mayhem I need them for good, for growth and peace For heavens, stop this war Times Throw this half-wit out Before creatures like these would sprout Creepers like you would in forests cry We know everything of the likes of you, BYE!!! You must thank your star For we set you free Hee hee...hee hee... hee hee Note: 1. Sati (Sanskrit: satī, also spelled suttee) is an obsolete Indian funeral custom where a widow immolated herself on her husband's pyre, or committed suicide in another fashion shortly after her husband's death. Mention of the practice can be dated back to the 4th century BCE, while evidence of practice by wives of dead kings only appears beginning between the 5th and 9th centuries. The practice is considered to have originated within the warrior aristocracy on the Indian subcontinent, gradually gaining in popularity from the 10th century CE and spreading to other groups from the 12th through 18th century CE. The practice was particularly prevalent among some Hindu communities, observed in aristocratic Sikh families, and has been attested to outside South Asia in a number of localities in Southeast Asia, such as in Indonesia, Vietnam. The practice was initially legalized by the colonial British officials specifying conditions when sati was allowed, then the practice was outlawed in 1829 in their territories in India (the collected statistics from their own regions suggesting an estimated 500600 instances of sati per year), followed up by laws in the same directions by the authorities in the princely states of India in the ensuing decades, with a general ban for the whole of India issued by Queen Victoria in 1861. In Nepal, sati was banned in 1920. The Indian Sati Prevention Act from 1988 further criminalised any type of aiding, abetting, and glorifying of sati. Source: Wikipedia 2. Red tilak, also known as tilaka, In Hinduism, the tilaka (tikli or sheether harr in Bengali, tika, or tilakam or tilak in Hindi; Sanskrit: तिलक tilaka; Hindustani pronunciation: [t̪ɪˈlək]) is a mark worn on the forehead and other parts of the body. Tilaka may be worn on a daily basis or for special religious occasions only, depending on different customs. Source: Wikipedia 3. Yaar, friend
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Immortal air (posted on: 05-10-15)
...

Immortal air Dead in the flute Lying on the ground Once, many tunes were born Wrote stories of angels, From the gaps of gasping breaths Painted pictures, in the whistling air Entertained rivers floating through the nerves Its intercourse with fingers melted snows and stones. Now, those feelers no longer Give a hand to the dancing air; they have left Leaving the flute as a mere instrument They are now occupied, engaged To craft and build structures of a different bent Mud has choked the flute. No room, no space inside; to flirt, caress Even from close It looks like a stick, made of stone Ready for a new role Outcast air urges the leaves to fall And cover its mate. Lying on the ground Dead in the flute Immortal air
Archived comments for Immortal air
ifyouplease on 06-10-2015
Immortal air
this poem is more cultural than i expected, an almost bittersweet poem, it's like me writing about Zeus losing his grip on the thunderbolt.

I saw Krishna here. very interesting

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha! Nic! You kind of caught me! However, the object in question can represent things beyond culture too, e.g. love, body, world, and so on! But I agree flute is so closely related to krishna that the culture bit would obviously surface! Thanks a bunch for stopping by and making me laugh!

Bozzz on 07-10-2015
Immortal air
Never mind the ultimate meaning, Supratik, I like this poem for the way the words caress the subject to form a very elegant piece. Yours, David

Author's Reply:
Yes...meaning is an enigma in itself and has many dependencies! Thank you so much David for reading and summarizing the poem so beautifully. Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 07-10-2015
Immortal air
I thought the first three lines were incredible. Not to say I did not enjoy the rest. I did, it took the theme and danced with it but there was so much power in the first two lines. I was glad to see them repeated at the end.

Aliosn x

Author's Reply:
Alison! I am honored...to see a reflection of the poem in these lines of yours. I agree I could have re-worked on some parts, but I didn't...maybe was lazy, or was disappointed seeing the flute merely an instrument, or who knows why! I have always wondered why Shakespeare had to say 'this is the most unkindest cut of all' referring to the lying body of Caesar! The interpretations of this error, as I have read, are many... grammatical error of putting two superlatives is to lay emphasis on the cut, on the murder, on the deceit...this is the most commonest of interpretations, however, I agree to it partly; on one level, it was to stress, no doubt, but on another level, Shakespeare was kind of angry...someone stabbed Caesar and he stabbed grammar, ha ha ha!!! This is how I see it, but learned men and women find this interpretation laughable!
Best.
Supratik

Gothicman on 08-10-2015
Immortal air
Yes, I find this too, a poem that induces an atmospheric effect in me the reader with strong feelings of loss that change inevitably brings, and it is culturally-tinted with regard to meaning, in a mystical way, which is refreshing. I wonder what was in your mind as the poem progressed, perhaps trying to reproduce a private feeling, keeping true to it, hoping the feeling is retained as it transforms to a verbal rendition? Or is it from some well-known local idiom you've put your own take on?
Good to have diversity with creative writing. Much enjoyed.
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor! Will I not treasure this comment! It is both, personal and non-personal, if I may use the word. Yes it is certainly in sync with your interpretation.
If we look at the poem from a distance, we could probably see, as you rightly pointed out, a loss or a death of a faith (in broad terms please). In this death, does air want to remain immortal is the question Trevor. Please allow me to add here that the word 'air' is quite tricky ha ha ha! Yours, Supratik

Supratik on 09-10-2015
Immortal air
Trevor, Now I'd be honest with my response to your query on what was going on in my mind... something that I deleted from my earlier one... I quote the part I deleted, 'The poem offers other entertainments too.' Cheers! Supratik

Author's Reply:


in the detached loop (posted on: 02-10-15)
choice?!

A blank page Like the blue sky, Open To be written. I choose words, as birds, those in it would fly... exclusive, unrivaled the good and the beautiful to the ear and the eye for the clever and the cool. I don't withal sense how in your blue light and dense you let all receive your hue... and yet again, when you fall as the sea your solitary image becomes your order and your plea. My words choose to drop on the page.
Archived comments for in the detached loop
stormwolf on 04-10-2015
in the detached loop
Another deep poem that has an air of philosophy about it.

I completely resonated with the blank blue sky and the blank page waiting to be written on. In fact it's often what I feel when I am home in the Highlands where for some reason we seem to have 'big skies' that speak to me in their own language.



The seagulls soar and speak of freedom for the spirit.



Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison. I am so so glad you liked it. Thanks a bunch!
Best.
Supratik


On paper (posted on: 02-10-15)
...

On paper It's just a piece of paper That unites and separates. There are these scratches, Instructed to know As signatures of witness. What about the journeys on the bed, on the buses and trains, what about those nights when a no meant a yes those sweet, salty togetherness, what about the ginger in those precious lunch-boxes scratch-less, spotless gleaming with love's labour, of concern and care... Those dreams wonderfully thankless Fall as ink-drops, on paper-power. O heavens I wonder how these precious partners will walk apart, strangers tearing away the bond of memories futile, fond... scratches of those days through severed paper craft will beat in the hearts as numb witness.
Archived comments for On paper
stormwolf on 04-10-2015
On paper
Hi Supratik
What a beautifully sad poem. I am feeling divorce papers but may be wrong. I understand what you are saying though. So many really 'important' things in life are really just symbols...small scribblings etc that have no real meaning in their own right but have huge power in the way they are employed.
Excellent work.

Alison x































Author's Reply:
Yes of course Alison...that is what it is. However, since I am, like most of us, kind of obsessed with peace, the poem looks at relationship as a whole...it includes all, but on the face of it...it is between couples who refused to try a little more. I must say that there is a risk of judging here in the poem...I tried to take out the judgement part as much as possible.
I am honored with the rating.
Best.
Supratik


Of nothing else (posted on: 25-09-15)
Words have a deep impact on our thoughts. In fact, we are nothing but words! Thoughts give rise to feelings, feelings to actions, actions to habits. Habits make our personality which in turn becomes our destiny. In view of this, the poem tries to change our destiny by changing the thought of a particular word that's troubling our world.

Of nothing else Taliban! For a long time It had the better of me this word, I could only think of terror and crime When it appeared in my world; Of it, the more I heard and saw It costumed as the truth, without any flaw It played its role on stage For years consumed horror and bloodshed Until I went to the dais, without a borrowed mirror And looked at the word I caused pain, freed it from my obstinate cage I will change its mask; I will change its dress I will paint it afresh with a complete new face Some will witness in it for sure some sense The word now speaks to me of tolerance Of acceptance, love, intelligence Of brotherhood, affluence and newness Of nothing else, of nothing else I have changed it completely And with it will change my reality O what a beautiful word this is It holds everything I need How did I overlook, how did I miss The word is kind indeed. This poem is dedicated to those who have taught me how thoughts create our own destiny The Brahmakumaris Deepak Chopra Wayne Dyer Osho Sri Sri Ravi Shankar Eckhart Tolle Oprah Winfrey Home of Abraham-Hicks
Archived comments for Of nothing else
Bozzz on 26-09-2015
Of nothing else
Supratik this is an interesting approach and commendable that you have found it helpful in changing your image of the group. But does that change anything on the ground?Sadly theirs is one of the most primitive Muslim groups among many concepts and as you rightly say, unworthy of support by any civilised western standards. Applause for submitting. David

Author's Reply:
Yes David, it will... the group is going to submit, drop their guns and weapons and come to me for a hug, and I will be ready to hug them to see people not lying dead on the streets. Now who is this me David... who will they come to? To Supratik? No, they will come to the source. Personally, I do not support any standard that is yet to learn to function without weapons.. I am saying this with a lot of affection David, but can you tell me what prevents Obama to run into Putin and invite him for a tennis match, ask him when did he last have sex? I am still short of vision...the man comes and escapes...playing hide and seek with me, but if Hicks had named him Abraham, I'd name him Mr. Love because that's all our II (Mr. Infinite Intelligence) knows... but he's not getting into my trap ha ha ha!!! I had even thought of naming him Mr. Sex because love and making love are the only thing he knows, that's why he has instilled this in every sentient beings.
I am of the opinion that in our approaches, reactive or responsive, it is possible to demolish terrorism provided we focus on the school of terrorism and release the terrorists from the school. However, the challenge is that a) we are not half as dedicated as the students of the school and b) we are focused on the students, not on the school! The school which has the power to convert a French to open fire on free-thinkers what have you!!! From the time it has happened, I have become speechless, what is their key to convert someone who has grown up with Voltaire to do that! If we have to put this behind us, we cannot do with anger and a fixed image of the group... according to the BKs' 'love me when I deserve it the least', the group is going through tremendous pain, and if we have the pain for those who died on the streets with half-complete stories in our minds, the group needs love than hatred... the more they kill, the more we send them our energies of love... it is very difficult, that's why we need practise...why? because we are determined to demolish the school of terrorism from the world, my world. Yours, Supratik

Note:
Abraham-Hicks Law of attraction. Spiritually evolved teachers who call themselves Abraham
BKs - Brahmakumaris

Kipper on 26-09-2015
Of nothing else
I confess that I struggled somewhat to 'see' the picture you were painting, or to fully understand your dilemma.
It is sometimes said that one can be too close; one should step back and see the wider picture. Is that what you have done?
I notice in your profile that your aim is "to re-install peace in the world; my world". A worthy aspiration but why I wonder the last two words? Is your world different to my world?
Your piece starts by expressing regret at your apparent failure to understand a particular word, and I suggest that 'peace' is another word that may also mean different things to different people.
I suspect and hope that your interpretation of that word is one we share, and wish you well in your endeavor.
Best wishes, Michael


Author's Reply:
Michael! Yes, I wanted to step back and look. I am so happy that you have nailed it... if you look at the possessive adjective 'my' from the same lens, it would be easier to understand. For instance, visibly there is a lot of difference between a David, a Michael and a Supratik and an Alison. but in the real sense of the term, we are one and the same. 'We' instead of 'Me' is a corporate jargon, but in the detached reality, there's nothing but I, me. I am an Indian, a Brit, an Afghan, a Pakistani, a French.. this is my world, it is my own property, every dust, every leaf, every drop in the ocean and the sea is me...according to wisdom traditions, it is 'ekam adyaitam' (one and the only one)... this is what I have learnt from the people/organisations mentioned in the dedication list.
You will see how peace is restored in this world... I don't have to do anything other than tapping, just tapping on the source.
If I have to explain the meaning of the poem, I'd do that by asking you to perform, if you may, a simple exercise...close your eyes...please do that... and say taliban...say it again and visualize the picture you have of the word, the sad part is that more you think of the word from the reality that you can see, more it becomes true... our thoughts create our destiny as mentioned in the 'about the poem'... in view of this, the poem tries to re-define the word, build that into the thought to change our destiny.
I am so so happy to see your willingness to know about the poem; the poem has got some positive response; why! I still don't know... it's a wonder though. Thanks a bunch... Yours, Supratik


Goodbye to wars (posted on: 25-09-15)
the poem is in reversible style... enjoy! Reversible style means you can read the poem from the last line to the first... once following and respecting the law of gravity (laws of the land!) and once moving upwards...as though you are taking a leap... I haven't seen anyone trying this style so I don't know how to name it... the first time I tried this was in the poem 'Reflection' posted here.

Just a while ago, we took our long awaited leap Awake, aware we're now living our dream Wars are destroyed from the minds No aftermaths, no outcries Arms and weapons are resting in peace In the museums and lexicons, o what a bliss Unarmed people do not die on unaware streets like rats any more Arms wide open; they stretch for the needy and the poor Growth abounds, lives flourish Hungry children are nurtured and nourished Gone are the reasons for those worried wars For those who shine in the sky like our scars Changed has the challenged world. Peace and love are now not just words Radiating friendship beyond borders and boundaries Free are they from the confines of dictionaries Love and peace are shared for sure and for good We have wealth and abundance of food. On the stage, beyond masks, with life and nature Differences are now playing a connected overture On the same tolerant land, under the same forgiving sky We bid adieu to wars, we say a final goodbye
Archived comments for Goodbye to wars
sweetwater on 27-09-2015
Goodbye to wars
Wouldn't it be nice if we could finally end all wars, of course we'd have to find a way to limit the population, but that is infinitely better than continuous battles. We can but hope. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Sue! Thanks! Malthus had no other means of justifying wars!! Yes we certainly can hope...and also think... think... Thanks a bunch for your response. Best. Supratik

gwirionedd on 28-09-2015
Goodbye to wars
Hi, Supratik. What do you mean by "reversible style"?...



Author's Reply:
Hello...how do I call you? Reversible style means you can read the poem from the last line to the first... once following and respecting the law of gravity (laws of the land!) and once moving upwards...as though you are taking a leap... I am sorry I did not explain it clearly... I do not know how to name the style because I haven't seen anybody trying it... the first time I did was in the poem 'Reflection' posted here. Best. Supratik

gwirionedd on 30-09-2015
Goodbye to wars
Ah, now I understand. I think that, in order to do this, each line must be a separate and independent entity in its own right. It reminds me of the ghazal, where each couplet is independent in its own right. Perhaps you are inspired by the ghazal? As an Indian, that would be your culture more than mine!

Just a couple of points:

It is very old-fashioned and out of date in English poetry today, to put words in the wrong order just to make a line rhyme... A good poet today tries to avoid this... You certainly don't need to say "free are they", when you can just say "they are free" instead. Also, "changed has the challenged world".

Anyway, I like your "reversible" idea. I may try it myself one day.

My username is hard to pronounce, but you can call me Archie.

All the best,
Archie


Author's Reply:
Archie! Thank you for reading and commenting with your good suggestions. There are times when I go into the old-fashioned style, especially when I want the content to marry with the form, in this case, the poem is talking about a primitive style (war). That's why 'free are they'... and changed has the challenged world is the middle line, after which there is a stop. I am very much aware of the newness you are talking about, I am personally not so kind with poems that have archaic expressions and or words, viz. thy, thou and so on. However, going forward, I will be more conscious. Thanks a bunch!

Ghazals...no! I like ghazals very much, but I am not quite inspired by it.

I am thrilled to know you liked the reversible style!! Please try... remember to be careful with relative pronouns, possessive adjectives and about using determinants in a clever way, especially when you are using complex or compound sentences. Best. Supratik


in between (posted on: 14-09-15)
The drama in the poem is more in the hallucination of looking at a waterfall as a fountain, where the source and the destiny become dim and seem to lose their relevance; much like ours. In the triangular relationship of source-journey-destiny, it is also trying to talk about the visible and the non-visible, sound and silence. What appears to stay has the demeanour of 'not staying', and what doesn't appear to stay, stays. In this light, it has also questioned whether hallucination is the only truth, and whether the truth we know as truth is an illusion. The question or the inquiry is nothing new, yet the perception of looking at something from a different direction and then to inquire perhaps is ... or so I think. At the end of it all, it's a thought, nothing else.

I was looking at a waterfall Ceaselessly, at the white Falling and falling Oneness in the action... So near was I, Fresh! I could smell the flow, Feel the force. After a while my eyes and ears focused the fall dressed as a fountain rising and rising... spreading its freshness in the air as its sole offer... beyond a point nothing! Did I not look-see? Yes, I did! Then how did they marry! in this blissful bridal symphony The movement only the movement stayed, as a unique sound, a forbearance the source and the destiny in silence alighted from the journey Life! I sensed moving in between hidden birth and death
Archived comments for in between
sweetwater on 15-09-2015
in between
I really enjoyed this poem, waterfalls do tend to do this. They hypnotise and draw you in until you are almost falling with them. Sue 🙂

Author's Reply:
Sue! I am so so glad you enjoyed it. Yes, I agree, they do! Best. Supratik


Relinquished (posted on: 14-09-15)
🙂

A year has gone by I did nothing My life went unsung With it still, In your trees Birds chirped Flowers bloomed Said a charming hi How kind is your world In which this fallen tune Is a part How warm Greif! For what I know not I rejoice in the space! Moments welcome, Pour in my flute, Your sweetness
Archived comments for Relinquished
sweetwater on 15-09-2015
Relinquished
Beautiful. Very wistful and loving. Sue 🙂

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue for commenting so beautifully. Yes, it is a kind of self-imposed indolence. 🙂 Supratik


Twins (posted on: 11-09-15)
not look-alikes though

The golden lock Peace is not your whiskey It is not either your sex It is that one little key For most challenges complex! You have a way with those pretty words, For them, you end up in petty wars, No matter how mighty you think you are You kill your selves like powerful cowards! Pray you sit with your selves and think, So your willies and lusts are over for good Peace as it were, is waiting to unlock and blink, Winsome words tarrying to charm, just as they should! The silver key Moonlight unlocks Embraces trees, grasses Brooks, waterfalls, fountains Unabated, illogical romance In the music and the dance Intoxication and love-making Spreads through the leaves Smiles, and flirts with the breeze. The troubled world overlooks, blocks Eye for an eye, its words, proverbs Live in the dark, Its frozen ears don't listen Cold eyes hiss, don't see The warmth in the air kissing The quiet so clear, unworried and free Missing it is for long, the silver key.
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Survivor (posted on: 11-09-15)
🙂

Survivor I am a survivor in the ways I float and meander life is what I marry and choose I am not dying to win, nor succumb do I if I lose. I have no worth, no shame saying that aloud away from the wing of words a plastic arena that's bold and proud, beholds my wind as meek lapidates it with every unwilling brick a game that clouds the unsure and the weak. love's alive in my trip in my warm world, it would forever garland my ring, without feud, skirmish while people will kill for people's sake with anger, rage, revenge I deem as far too fake, borders, fences, minds will never cease to please glooms in the brain, never to heave a sigh... yet peace is just as much at ease, never to perish lost or won, with or without worth as it might be me and my journey, relaxed and breezy will live through the knot, forever bond and tie.
Archived comments for Survivor
sweetwater on 13-09-2015
Survivor
If I have understood this correctly, you are saying you are happy with yourself, do not wish for greatness and content with your whole world? If so I can completely empathise. If not it's still a very fine poem and I enjoyed it very much. Sue 🙂

Author's Reply:
Sue! Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes, it does talk about that... but there's this never that comes too often in the poem... this absolute term could be a trap you know! I am glad you liked reading it. Best. Supratik


Irrelevant (posted on: 31-08-15)
what is uncommon, remains

Words nest inside, yearning for wings. The sky invites, provokes from within. From the den, eyes behold the blue so many times, yet so new, what words want to write ruffle, ripple, rewind. No point, coming out in the air to show, what the spread had not yet seen! The simmer's on as it were while words can imagine.
Archived comments for Irrelevant
Mikeverdi on 01-09-2015
Irrelevant
Always something different from you, keeps me guessing HaHa! I like this, the other one you've posted this week was too deep for me; well I am a bit of an old fart. 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Aw Mike! Sorry for the indigestion. 🙂

gwirionedd on 02-09-2015
Irrelevant
I really like this:

"Words nest inside,
yearning for wings."

Good use of metaphor.



Author's Reply:
Thank you so much!


The womb (posted on: 31-08-15)
the most comfortable, non-judgemental place

World is but a womb Sentient beings travel deep inside In comfort, born, only born, with pride Begin, only begin to blossom This unending journey, is a mystery to learn That it is one; it cannot be lost or won That lives in this space, can never make it a tomb.
Archived comments for The womb
THEGOLDENEGG on 01-09-2015
The womb
please could you send me your real name and short bio for the anthology to anthed2016@aol.com

You will find details in the forum /anthology - contents list and 'important information' threads ..

JohnG

Author's Reply:
Sure will do... thank you... Supratik (this is my real name!)

e-griff on 01-09-2015
The womb
sorry - that was from me this time - forgot to change back from weekly challenge mode 🙂

Author's Reply:
I did not understand... 🙁 Best. Supratik

Now I understand! So you are the devil ! I have always been like this...completely ill-informed about people in position and power... no wonder I never made it... but it doesn't matter now, as long as I am connected to good people... Thank you John!


birth (posted on: 21-08-15)
...birth...I wrote this on my birthday, 18 August...:D... you could wish me if you want... I am quite shameless with cyber-hugs and virtual cakes! for the French version, the link is as follows: http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2015/08/naissance.html

seeds are born to give birth to seeds in the dance of the universe its master, ceaselessly choreographing birth on this earth as his counterparts in shapes, sizes visible and beyond vision in the lakes and brooks rivers, oceans mountains, deserts in the skies the deepest bed of the earth freezing and burning points in bits and bounds millions of moments with dots of silence and sound travelling everywhere within and beyond human hands echoing the director's existence rollicking days and nights birth, birth and birth everywhere thus love is born, to breed love deaths reborn in the ballet there's no loss in the wondrous air birth rejoices in constant and stable transience in the sole wandering song that's played on the stage
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heart (posted on: 21-08-15)
eartHeart for the French version, the link is as follows: http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2015/08/cur.html

heart sounds like hymn same flow, same rhythm earth throbs inside it constantly glows, without limit earth is the heart, simple and clear warmth of wisdom whispers in the air As long as Knowledge knocks and dies in the wing for life they'd beat, for love they'd sing
Archived comments for heart
sweetwater on 22-08-2015
heart
Very interesting, I especially enjoyed the last two lines. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you. It's the lovetoop of the eartHeart... ha ha ha! Best. Supratik


The tree (posted on: 17-08-15)
just another poem over a cup of tea/coffee maybe! ... if you'd like to read the french version: http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2015/08/larbre.html

I am a tree, with a name My flowers, fruits Never approved of your taste Strange they seemed I lay fixed on the ground My branches though travel in the air It has a known map in your world Yet you sit in my shade Nameless darkness Drooling out of light My enlightenment Falls With everything I am, I have Gives you a familiar comfort Like any other tree Whose everything Fits your sense
Archived comments for The tree
Mikeverdi on 17-08-2015
The tree
I think it's a good one, is it a guessing game? 🙂 I would have liked a bit of punctuation...but that's just me.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks Mike for stopping by! I have been niggardly with the punctuation bit so it could fit readers' moods at the time of reading. I am sorry for the inconvenience though!
The poem is existential and I tried some games within it. Don't know if it has fallen flat, but I am kind of ready with my justifications, if required. Best. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 17-08-2015
The tree
Justifications? Never 🙂 I was just curious is all. As always, it's your poetry... and write as you will. I really did like it 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike for liking it! Supratik

Bozzz on 18-08-2015
The tree
I like trees, I like this poem, I like your move from obscure to nature - but may be that is because of my mental thickness. Yours David

Author's Reply:
David!
O names, names names... our mind is lost in the jungle of names, and with names what we do you and I know. Fruits, flowers signify here many things...(allow me to hide please, I am too shy...) o my conventional belief of enlightenment...what is it...a bundle of light, is that it?...but here's a tree whose enlightenment from the light, with all it is, has, is the shadow...would you dare, at least once to call it darkness?
Best. Supratik

Pronto on 18-08-2015
The tree
I enjoyed this and, I suspect, so would Isaac Newton!!
great word picture and much to be admired.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much for passing by! Best. Supratik

sweetwater on 22-08-2015
The tree
I can't even pretend to understand the meaning within this poem, but that doesn't matter as it really delighted me, and I love trees too, so all good :-)) Sue.

Author's Reply:
Sue! Thank you for such a sweet comment. The meaning is hidden, and I guess it's my failing. I got a very good interpretation of this poem in my blog. But I am glad that it delighted you, and it is no surprise that you love trees, so loving that you are. Best. Supratik

Supratik on 22-08-2015
The tree
For Sue... when you find time, take a look at L3 again... maybe you will get some clue. But don't bother much please!

Author's Reply:

sweetwater on 23-08-2015
The tree
Nope, I'm none the wiser but the more I read it the more I love it, I'm putting it into favourites so I can continue to puzzle over it, just for my own enjoyment. Sue xx

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue! I am honored!Supratik


Times, with daughter (posted on: 14-08-15)
Tuesday 11 August, 2015...lol!!!

Good morning to you all, hey! I am thrilled, excited I am going on a date With my daughter today I have never felt so complete and rich All knotty, gloomy clouds gushing out from within She asked me out; with me she'd spend some time I'm in seventh heaven now, aren't I in cloud nine I saw her up, through time through the years Sleeping on my lap, easing out her fears We sang, played and danced, we talked high and low Times in my eyes had seen her bloom and grow I asked her, why date with baba*, hey you pretty miss? My witty child replied, so you chime a rhyme on this Note: *baba in benglai, baba means father
Archived comments for Times, with daughter
sweetwater on 15-08-2015
Times, with daughter
Haha she obviously knows her dad very well and I love the ' chime a rhyme '. That's the trouble with poets we'll turn anything into a poem and bring our family into the spotlight :-)) Sue

Author's Reply:
Ha ha! You bet she does! Thank you Sue for stopping by! Best. Supratik


There were these people (posted on: 07-08-15)
boom

There were these people In the marketplace, malls, multiplex Sitting, chatting, binging, boozing, talking about sex Some bitching about their mothers-in-law, bosses The arena was filled with fun, chatter, and blabber Adorned with smirks, grins, groans, laughter... Dancing with the chirps, in the actions and the art I was there in every mouth, in every heart In every sense, in every nerve and vein I watched deceit, generosity, Friendship, glamour, fraternity, In the busyness, laziness of the place If there were conceits and fights, too there was warmth and grace. Boom! In a minute everything changed In all the organs and feelings, where I dwelt A strange bright colour flowing from them, amazed All dreams, poems are suddenly put to rest. If I reside in this abrupt blue, I dwell in the boom too! Let me watch now, how this is dealt Angry, horrified brains are now sitting, discussing How to commit a crime like the actors To show them how creative intellects are I tried to whisper in them, in vain That's a hurricane with a different name Your angers won't dump the storm dear women and men. My people, my world shuns the criminals, not the crime Both immortal become, through the passage of time Killing the act has no place in the room Actors on the ground survive through the boom. I am watching this without guilt or shame How tomorrows present this move on game There were these people...
Archived comments for There were these people
Bozzz on 09-08-2015
There were these people
Supratik, your piece is both joyful then terrifying - to live through the scene would be a miracle so I imagine, indeed hope it was of your mind and not of reality. Brilliant nonetheless.... deserves a nib.

Author's Reply:
David! Thank you for reading and commenting. I am glad you liked it and thought it deserved a nib! Yes you guessed it right, the I is ubiquitous... it exists in the blue and in the boom. And thanks also for the rating! Best. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 09-08-2015
There were these people
This is excellent in my opinion, I would ask of your knowledge if you could tell. I assume it's not a Japan thing as it sounds more resent.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Mike! Thank you so much for stopping by and finding it good enough. The incident has happened in the world under the same sky, that's all. It will continue to happen, unless...
Best. Supratik


Hats off (posted on: 07-08-15)
🙂

Hats off Hats off to humankind Intelligent and powerful, if you please Invented conflict into the world But is yet to discover peace Civilisations replete with wealth, wherewithal Flawless, thronged with luscious charms Crops here stack, blight and crawl, Treasured weapons fly, empower tense arms Friendship bounces back, on every Samaritan's walls Enamour the ears and the eyes Delightful and pleasing aesthetics Entertainment and condolence here lie In selective, deaf and dumb gimmicks Poverty of a kind, forever feeds the rich Pockets overflow with slaphappy contests Who has it the most, who is the best Colourful thinking hats subdue fresh efforts futile Hysteric people gunned their own simple smile Blindness is the vision, armistice; put anew to rest Cheers to growth and development Networks, sky-ways, and freeways concur to connect Yet hearts off and on, chime a harrowing piece For the paths appear to be strong, but unstable and weak History meets in time, as the ignored witness meek Hats off to humankind Intelligent and powerful, if you please Invented conflict into the world But is yet to discover peace
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Reminder (posted on: 03-08-15)
...

Reminder Inside the box, a pathway a dream lies hands that wrote and sang myriad stories from the waves on the sands from the flowers to the brooks eyes looked for colours scarlet and gray united as one beyond black and white reality ears heard the tune from a distant land an aria that thrilled the heart waiting to be devoured in time. It once looked for mangoes in October coloured the dove, caressed by the few hummed a tune that sounded like the dew the bird tried to flutter its wings inspirited song did the heart sing reveries from within in requiems died now in deep slumber, a silent world inside. In this silence freshly deceased dream gleaming in flame-like waves with flower-like warmth, essence through the dispossessed organs a keepsake exuding through a stream in quiet footsteps
Archived comments for Reminder
Bozzz on 03-08-2015
Reminder
I like your passion for lyrical poetry - something I find it very hard to do and for me, I find often hard to understand the full meanings when I read that of others. Something missing in my soul? Please forgive me for asking this time...David

Author's Reply:
David! Let me begin by imagining your comment not as a euphemism to say that the poem's a little all over the place, but to really understand what's happening here! There is a coffin in which a dreamer is waiting to be buried or burnt. However, the object 'funerary box' is depicted here as a pathway, a passage... whether it's to another world is not known, but through this passage the dreamer leaves the legacy behind. This is the main theme.
I am charmed at the way you craft your poems, the last one was excellent. Our styles are different; no matter how hard I try, my poems seem to hide behind you-never-know-what. I am working on a poem called 'Hats off', where I have been fairly clear, clearer no, clear yes. Thank you for your patience. Best. Supratik

sweetwater on 04-08-2015
Reminder
I read your words, liking them but not understanding them until I read your explanation to David, then I read again and WOW yes every word every line spoke to me and I completely understood. ' hands that wrote and sang' ' eyes looked for colours ...beyond reality' and ' ears heard the tune from a distant land ' and that's just the first stanza. This is to me the essence of being, this is a world poets know. ( having said all that I truly hope I haven't got it wrong, if I have I apologise, but that is what I heard and loved. ) Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Sue! What is there to understand? A table is a table because it is not a chair! We have done that for a long long time, now let's understand the essence, the overall, 'le tout' without understanding every little word and every little meaning. Meaning doesn't have sense, does it? I don't think I am talking sense now, ha ha ha!
On a serious note, you have understood the essence. I am really touched with the favs bit Sue.
Best. Supratik


Unmoved (posted on: 03-08-15)
...

Sedentary sun has made the moon to take a round not from his ribs or bones flesh or blood words insensate on the numinous pages but from his ardor to watch day and night with the luminous stars the world is in the dark searching for light
Archived comments for Unmoved
Supratik on 03-08-2015
Unmoved
I am not sure whether it will help, but let me try to explain what's happening here. The poem has a hint of religion and religiosity (ref. ribs, bones, flesh, pages), although it doesn't clearly say if it's Christianity or Pegan... the poem refuses to criticize, it engages to accept. The theme of the poem is to talk about a) the creator (sun) and the creation (moon) and b) light. Since the creator cannot move, it has created a moving star...the creation has something which the creator doesn't have! The unique purpose of both the creator and the creation is to serve, by watching and by giving light. Just as Adam couldn't procreate, Eve emerged, but from then on, the debate began on a number of things... let me skip that. By this the poem doesn't intend to compare sun as adam and moon as eve, but it draws out some similarity between the mundane and the celestial.
The poem wants to show the relationship between the creator and the creation; that in the creation, the creator rests, resides, stays and it is futile to know who is greater, it's more to complete than compete! [complete/compete... this has become a cliche in many books on management, ha ha ha!!]
Despite being in the company of light, the world is sadly in the dark. The poem decided on the word 'searching' from a string of contenders like 'groping' 'starving' 'craving' 'yearning'. The name unmoved also has multiple meanings.

Author's Reply:

chant_z on 05-08-2015
Unmoved
The dichotomy seems clear (although without your description I wouldn't have seen it ... :)). A beautiful piece of writing.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. Best. Supratik


Reflections of the world (posted on: 31-07-15)
Performers dies in the hands of audiences

Curtain unwilling to fall, it drops Time waits inside the minds Of surprise-less spectators What they're going to see is seen Thousands of times before Curtain raises, theatre begins. Obstinate insanity Irritation without provocation Pelting heart-shaped stones here and there to hurt Incoherent cruel words pop from the brain Masked in kindness on the dais Notorious show of power, violence These are reflections of the world. It is inflicted with ulcer Doesn't want to visit a doctor Recognizes the disease as remedy Wants to keep the other wanting For more With names of disarmament, Sensitizes people starving for food On global warming To safeguard the endangered environment Where sentient beings are never its part Teachers have failed in their breaths Gallons of wealth bleeding out To mobilise arms, weapons instead of crops. Stop! Stop, stop... lame words beat the eardrums non-stop But congealed organs are fixed at one point Incapable to learn and cure The power to live in peace freezes inside Smiling with unease to meet death There's no bewilderment, no awe, no astonishment Teachers, doctors have left the premises long ago They lost their roles in the hands of eccentric deliberations Living in false admiration to build and heal They see like us, without any shout, appeal. Mirrors have broken in the dressing room Stage refusing to support, but willy-nilly performs its role With popcorn words For the spectators and the actors Lunacy is ecstasy Powerless performers die in the hands of audiences They mimic our thoughts Conflict is the reason to live Peace the reason to die These are the reflections of the world. Unwilling curtain drops Time waits in the minds of surprise-less audience For the next episode, for the next generation With unmistakable prediction of the same bitterness Until the fire burns the uneasy organs Reflects light through its own reflection Cries, howls, destroys the thoughts dead and blind Caressing with warmth those ignorant minds Ignites them to life, burns those insecure weapons Pounding heavy in the hearts Commands the curtain to drop The useless histrionics To stop! Stop, stop.
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Written world (posted on: 31-07-15)
🙂

When the popper sings and begs When the monger calls and sells When the bombs blast to kill When the flowers bloom to heal When with differences countries fight On horizon-stages that unite In the presence or absence Of the sun and the moon As a curse or as a boon With my folly and my sense In dullness or delight I write. In everything I feel, see or hear I find my poems hidden or clear My words beyond successes failures They come from the mind gushing through the nerves Seldom would they be in the wrong or in the right They'd just write. I have volumes of leaves In those branches of trees They don't have names are hanging to fall Come back they'd again and rise without a call Observant with acceptance, always feather light They'd simply write. Yet there's one hope in the words! That drizzles on the page! That peace rains in my world! Released, from the cloudy cage Sometimes words rhyme, sometimes they don't At times they're read at times left alone Like the flower in a corner noticed or unheard I rewrite like I breathe in my wonderful world.
Archived comments for Written world
Bozzz on 31-07-2015
Written world
Hi Supratik, I like this piece because it reminds me of my many days in industry when top management floundered and wrote random solutions. My conclusion was that random policies, like random writing, need risk management. That said, it is just how I write poetry myself and one just hopes that it works out. Risk management is commercial baloney ! Yours aye, David
Cheers, David

Author's Reply:
David! I am not able to understand if I'd laugh at this or with this! Thanks for stopping by! Best. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 01-08-2015
Written world
It was three reads before the brain kicked in, excellent description of how it all works. I have pages and pages I've printed, looking to see if it works better off the screen.... Why do I do that? It seems we're all the same; we write.

Author's Reply:
Mike! Sorry and thank you! Sorry because I made you read three times! And thanks for stopping by! Throughout my tenure as a conscious writer, mediocre or otherwise, I try to look around all forms of existence to find poésie in it.
Yes of course...'we're all the same; we write' wonderfully put.


The night that slept well (posted on: 27-07-15)
...

Night has slept well it seems After a series of terror, tremor There was a hiatus Peaceful, deep was her sleep Now The first streak of light Soft world takes a shower Colors haven't met yet Unabated encouragement and push Pouring in From the chirps, from the breeze and the brooks From the mountains and forests From cities with high-rises From sound and silence An ease that seemed so strange even a day ago There's plenty of life to be born today Everywhere, within, without There's no death, no loss Nothing is far, from anywhere Close, well-knit, comfortable Like the night that slept well yesterday
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For the News (posted on: 27-07-15)
we are all waiting, aren't we

For the News For the News, we're all waiting To hear instead of bad, something good Our ears deafened with cruelty and snatching Our eyes blinded by the rude. Horrors of wars, divides and differences Bleed through the channels and the holes Our mind awaits peace and Intelligence For the news to break and energise our souls Terrors of all kinds are out on the street To kill, slay, butcher and slaughter In the flesh and blood our hearts beat For the news of love, bliss and laughter Every day we open those pages and boxes They bark and bite through the space Our organs are fatigued with the losses For the news of truth, we all yearn to surface In every corner of the world, from mountain tops and seas In every work we do, for our loving families Let's tune in all our hearts in every song we could For the news we'd love to get, that wars have gone for good Someday not so far away, let us pray my friends A distinct picture would appear through the hues That false colour of hatred and war ends That happiness prevails; we'd sit up and stay for the News.
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The actor (posted on: 24-07-15)
It's a common scene in many parts of the world

A hungry child on the street Thinks of food Sees a friend in the car Going to school, crying The tears wash the smiling urchin Whose legs will act weak and limp Face to be made up effortlessly with dust He thanks his trainer Rains of coins will shower In his noisy tin He'd buy something to eat To feed the weeping stomach He'd better start his day Thinks and leaves for the green room Full of flowers, birds and grasses Takes some mud, softens it with water Pulls some hair from his head Gets a moustache like chaplin or hitler he doesn't care to know Hides for sometimes and appears on the stage Unrecognisable! He knows poverty doesn't sell anymore He knows to sing and dance To entertain, not bore The first coin drops He looks up at the face Surrounded by the blue sky another stage, he thinks smiles and thanks...
Archived comments for The actor
deadpoet on 24-07-2015
The actor
I think this was very good - the end didn't quite fit- but I enjoyed it.

Author's Reply:
Pia! Thank you. I am glad you liked it.About the end, I call it disconnected joints. Poppers are great philosophers! If you paint the picture of what's happening on the stage, you might get the link without the poet intervening to paraphrase. However, even the thought 'it didn't fit' fits for the poem because it depicts the disconnection through its form.


Here's to losers (posted on: 24-07-15)
The refrain in this poem has a pedestrian style and is a mix of Hindi (Indian language) and English. Therefore, the note.

Everywhere we exist Yet you've written nothing about us How unfair it is, isn't it By now, you should have written our omnibus Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya Everywhere we fail and we lose In everything we do or we choose Minding the Ps and Qs we could never cope Yet we are undaunted, we never stop to hope Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya Some lose out on their age yet they don't sulk and sigh Some lose their loves, their possession and work Yet the spirit is always up and high From their duties they never run and shirk Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya The world writes for winning and winners No one pens for the won Losing in the game we are the givers Of their wealth, worth and position Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya Write about us O writer Give us some space in your book We are also the winners How could you us overlook Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya We lose in every moment of the day Yet we are full of hope, with endless fun Include us in the books if you may We are replete with stories unsung Hum to losers hai bhaiya N manzil n chandi n rupaiya Note: The refrain means we are losers o brothers, no goals, no silver/coins, no money.
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I am in love (posted on: 20-07-15)
in love

I was conscious of my skin, my flesh, my origin. Was proud of my blood, my bones, and my tongue. Breed, of every little kind worried organs made noise in my mind. With these possessions, I set out for love... eyes, tired with judgement ears lost the balance. I could never forgive the love, at times there, at times elusive. Now, with sky as my skin, brooks and the mud my flesh and my blood the sun and the moon are in my bones, in the tongue, through the leaves and those grasses I see and I hear my sense awakes, arouses a rhythm in the organs, conscious and clear unreal it might sound, but I am out of my cocoon I am in love, will never be out of tune.
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Bozzz on 22-07-2015
I am in love
Supratik, this is a fine poem that describes some of the varied emotions that love generates. Bravo and worthy of a nib in my opinion. Some tidying up of punctuation my make it slightly easier to read... Yours David.

Have read your story and the rest. Will reply soon.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much David! I am working on the punctuations to edit the poem. Your suggestions solicited. Best. Supratik


The journey of a poet (posted on: 17-07-15)
This poem can also be read from bottom to top. In case you'd like to read the French version, it's available in the following link http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2015/07/letrajet-dun-poete-jecomprends-qui-suis.html

I understand who I am through the records of my life I land in sound, silence some heard, some felt I write my lines through the pleasures and pains, I look at the world, my world, I overcome intolerance stories I lose, restore in the choice of possibilities capture in words, in the comfort, agony of the sailing times I ooze energy from within; to the smiling, smirking I witness my boat moves, stops with the mild, wailing waves I discover myself also as a cloud in the midst of a constant journey with the patient presence of sky in my demeanour my determined, humble steps to push and survive turn the earth on I procreate lives with love as I scribble along with experience, I turn every leaf with care; some gained, some left in all my relentless, transient, windy, gained, annulled moments I come ashore as a common man, a preferred poet
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sweetwater on 17-07-2015
The journey of a poet
I do enjoy this reversible verse style of poetry it's very clever. And also a very good poem. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Sue for reading and commenting! I am glad you liked this reversible style. Best. Supratik

Bozzz on 18-07-2015
The journey of a poet
There are some elegant and philosophical lines in this piece. Actually I found the reverse read the best. My best David

Author's Reply:
David! Thank you so much! I am glad you found the reverse read better. Best. Supratik


Clarity (posted on: 13-07-15)
Clarity, throughout history, has divided and disunited people from people. However, in nature, clarity unites. I have also written a French version with the name Clart. If you want you can check this url please http://supratiksen.blogspot.in/2015/07/clarte-dansles-mots-les-images-tenues.html

Clarity In words, images In meanings, contents Of what relevance? In numbers, in faiths In beliefs, in games Of what relevance! The clarity in me Wants to lose in nature, in unity In haziness, in ecstasy, agony In acceptance, all as part of eternity; My eyes tired of difference, My ears fatigued with intolerance. Of what relevance is this mask The clarity between a dawn and a dusk Of what meaning is this pumping heart Which aligns only with this specific art Of what significance is this mind Which chooses but to be blind? Where's is the liberty on the stage When a prison has to differ from a cage, When a black has to differ from a brown, A head has no color without a crown, A nightingale sings but a crow has to cry Beauty can never with ugly fly! Clarity creates walls that divide It's against nature that shares and divides Resources endless with crops and food The sheltering sky skips the evil and the good. Clarity a human error that prevents and blocks Out in the air, my mind unlocks! From the bars, my heart is free My eyes don't hurt, my ears don't shock Overwhelmed in the realm of charming clarity
Archived comments for Clarity
Supratik on 20-07-2015
Clarity
This poem was posted in Poets, a group in LinkedIn. Robert Hayes, a researcher, poet, editor, currently in TechLit, Robquill has commented on the poem thus:
“You make a mute point, rather loudly, to say the least, SupratiK SEN. You covered quite a lump of social interaction in your first verse, which I think is vital to your theme. Several phrases of that first verse are purposefully contradictory. As they are nestled in the same lines, they appear to echo the poems destination. "Mask" and "relevance" are props used by the same character Clarity, in the drama of defining life and the apparent opposing forces. You also speak a poetic truth, in that, "Clarity" is in the eye of the beholder. It appears, for the poet "clarity" is a connection that rather enlightens, makes certain aspects of life more intelligible. Like the mathematician, that finds order in chaos. Layered second verse is with no carelessness of producing two meanings; nor comparisons made to confuse the reader with divisible rhetoric. Yet, in desperation, it seems, the personal outcry in that verse leaves a trail of suppositions aching for transparency. This is a good move on behalf of the poet. It creates the right tension so that the poem becomes critical of divisibility the bane of society, so to speak, and a side effect of the clarifying process. I love "the sheltering sky skips the evil and the good." It becomes a device of acceptance, but fails to give definition. Clarity, when thought of as "human error" clashes with the precision and preciseness; they become two antecedents of simplicity. The human and spiritual complexity is rooted in the notion that clarity is a transforming enigma working to free the heart and allay any fears of entrapment brought about by conforming to any defined differences, which lead to disunity. I like to read more of your work.”
I thought it was relevant to post his comments here, because it felt as if I was reading my poem in the form of a prose!

Author's Reply:


image (posted on: 26-06-15)
.. tried something crazy here...ha ha ha!!

Impaired self, a bonsai Marred in the muddy humdrum Arms controlled, roots ordered to fit the criteria Growth innate shouts within for the flowering Eager to widen beyond the prescribed range 1. The first and the last letters of every line make the word 'image' 2. You could also read from bottom to top to experience something different about cause andeffect!
Archived comments for image
sweetwater on 26-06-2015
image
Very clever idea works extremely well. I could really relate to the desire to free roots and roam further afield , plus I'm about the height of a bonsai tree! 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Dear Sue, Thank you very much. Apart from the jugglery, I wanted the content to work above everything else. I am so glad to know that it works. About the bonsai bit Sue, I see your sense of English humor! Best. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 28-06-2015
image
Clever stuff again, well done.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks Mike! I am glad you liked it!
Supratik


imagination (posted on: 26-06-15)
...

imagination is another world infinite, inclusive, unbound with melody still undiscovered magical, magnanimous, not for mundane muggles to comprehend assuring, accepting, contained, content, all within genuine, gregarious, without guilt, in symphony waiting to begin innocent, instinctive in instants and moments non-existent negation that melts into nothingness alert, aware yet often insinuated, ostracised, alienated tranquil, transient, teeming and transparent intelligent, replete with stories untold, with ignorance ignored omnipotent with possibilities manifold nature's gift to humankind present in a humming tune heard, unheard imagination is another world
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Mikeverdi on 28-06-2015
imagination
Surprisingly there are no comments as yet. If I have this right your poetry spells out the word; I call that clever.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks many times Mike! Yes I have!
Supratik


impermanence (posted on: 22-06-15)
🙂

Clouds, In my sky, A bliss! Travellers, nomads Everywhere In my eyes, hands and ears In my feet In my smiles dormant for years I feel light Full of possibilities, hopes In this vagueness I want to remain Fresh, aware with matters contain In what I can't clearly see I can clearly see Clarity the only felony Just a moment Hold on please I am so much me, so much at ease Let me be with these transient beings I see infinite shades of whites and blacks With you there are only two! You are so heavy, so much in blue I see countless drops of efforts from my relentless sea What you ignored overlooked as destiny I hear a string of things In the realm of nameless nothings Clarity the only felony Lower your pace Hold on... For a moment Please? Let me float in this height... For some more time In crowds of words so proud with fame I know with them I will fall again To flourish nurture and nourish your name
Archived comments for impermanence
chant_z on 24-06-2015
impermanence
A bit disjoint piece but it's beautiful.

Author's Reply:
In your own words, any interpretation goes I guess! Thanks!

Bozzz on 24-06-2015
impermanence
They say that transient self-elevation comes to all who seek meditation. I intend to try. Bravo Supratik.

Author's Reply:
I welcome your decision David! Thank you for stopping by.


Chairship zone (posted on: 19-06-15)
some of you might enjoy...others might not... life has many voices, but the one that's within matters because that's what genuinely is, that's what you have and that's what you can offer, even if it sounds strange, erratic, out of place:-)

No appetite. Knock, knock Hello, who is this It's me (the door opens) O you Come, sit I have no track of time You could have come just a while ago But moments seem years to me Ah yes, I know you've done horrible things To merit this seat, This sailing seat, on fire, is yours! How many times have I told you Not to come when I am alone? (smiles) You seem to find me in my time! Are you addicted to me? Am I your grass? Okay, since you've come Let us see the home... I know we've seen this many times Still, many times is first time Now, please hold the chair You'll fall otherwise Hold it tight else you will fall into the mundane Now see! Can you smell her in the kitchen? Her apron smells like the food Orange with happiness, She talks to the vegetables When they float in heated oil Do you see? Yes! Go on... When she was preparing the food Your aroused hands snatched her From the kitchen, You went here and there with her To those shelves, those walls Made love... You held her Just after she'd picked the cauliflower From her organic kitchen garden You arrived at more or less the same time A thousand fold times, In thousand old ways Happy? Now, go, leave I don't want you anymore For you'll remind me of the library... Whilst I could smell the books You wretch! You cheated on her For the one who came mopping your floor? You were talking to those pages To those shelves, to those walls You heard those frying sounds still You smelt that engaged apron, Preparing a romantic meal for you? You remember? Right in the middle of those authors Who wrote about this, through time, many fold times In many old ways Those books have seen the act Your art of concealing fact You read them all, and yet you dared... But hang on, we never had a help I had that one pair of hands She was my maid And I never confabulate with inanimate objects You know that (smiles) You are a wretch, planting cauliflowers in me You pervert reader Go burn in the seat O sanity, the only adultery Why do you appear in my zone? And to you, thanks for coming You can leave Let the chair loose... Now I am hungry. (the door closes)
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Food for thought: 11 steps to stop wastage of food at our workplaces (posted on: 19-06-15)
The only place for food is stomach, nowhere else.

Without even getting into numbers and statistic, one can figure out the huge amounts of food that go wasted every day at our respective workplaces. I had been thinking of sharing ways to prevent wastage of food. I finally decided to share upon seeing a message on LinkedIn which went somewhat like this: Don't waste food, I can afford, you can afford, but the nation can't afford. It's a very powerful message indeed. Come let's find out ways in which we can prevent wastage of food! It is an engaging work indeed! Please understand that these eleven steps are more relevant in the APAC region, where people's index on collectivism is higher than individualism [Individualism (IDV) vs. Collectivism]*. 1. Do not blame the employees. In fact, do not blame anyone, it doesn't help. If I am blaming my employees who waste food on a regular basis, it only means I am accepting this as a phenomenon. Your employees are sweet and harmless; however, they are unconscious. The strategy would be to make them conscious. 2. If you are really serious to put this behind you, first make a list of people who waste out of habit and those who waste because of the system! System? Yes. Your vendors give a specific amount of veg/egg noodles for Rs.25. If I am not able to eat the whole amount, there will be wastage of food for sure. Similarly, for chapatti thali, allow people to choose the number of chapattis they want to have; those who cannot have four chapattis invariably waste. 3. Form a team which is engaged in finding out from which career level, foods are getting wasted the most, the results could be interesting, and organize intermittent training on the importance of saving food. If required, build this into your induction module. 4. Introduce buffet instead of banquet, if possible. 5. Encourage employees to use condiments and tissue papers diligently. 6. Develop a packaging system which allows the wasted food (not rotten) to be channeled to those who starve for a whole square meal. Don't think twice as to how you can give somebody's wasted food to someone else, that you are abusing poverty....no, you are not because food is food, and if those eager mouths get healthy food from you on a regular basis, what more can you ask for! 7. Please do not penalise anyone for wasting food... this is ineffective and generates negative feeling and eventually leads onto a lose-lose scenario. 8. Introduce black tea/coffee with separate sugar and milk. Diabetic patients are obliged to take tea/coffee with milk and sugar because in most offices, beverages are not served separately, and most of them, take just a sip or two and throw the rest of it in the nearest litter. You can't blame them, can you because their malady doesn't allow them to have the full cup, but they do so because all they want is a sip. So please train the vendors to check on the quantity required. This can also happen for people without sugar; introduce half-cup tea or coffee. 9. Train the vendors and the employees separately and note down their concerns. Please note down their concerns because you are determined to save food, so it is your business to have all kinds of information concerning food and its wastage. 10. Allow employees to share one meal. This can be really handy... I have seen vendors not allowing people to share one meal because of obvious reasons. 11. There could be some who waste food simply because they don't like the taste. Educate the vendors to accommodate people's taste, those who like spicy food and those who do not. In Hyderabad, I had difficulties in requesting the vendors not to put red chilly in omelettes, and whenever they did I had to gulp it down with regrets. The onus is on both sides, please educate the vendors to ask simple questions like 'with or without red chilly'. There needs to be a repository of questions that need to be asked to employees who come to eat. It is a fascinating and a challenging process to save food and your only incentive is that you are saving your nation from wasting food every day! However, this needs research and an engaging team committed to innovating newer and doable ways to not let foods go down the drain. These eleven steps are not sacrosanct, I am sure you and your research team can find out better and more innovative ways to do something our nation can ill afford. The sole objective of this article is to say that a) it is possible to let the litters go light and b) blaming your employees will not help. Train all the stakeholders go up the ladder, from unconscious incompetence to unconscious competence, and in this effort, never give up, never be fed up! All the best! Note: *Individualism (IDV) vs. collectivism: "The degree to which individuals are integrated into groups". In individualistic societies, the stress is put on personal achievements and individual rights. People are expected to stand up for themselves and their immediate family, and to choose their own affiliations. In contrast, in collectivist societies, individuals act predominantly as members of a lifelong and cohesive group or organization (note: "The word collectivism in this sense has no political meaning: it refers to the group, not to the state"). People have large extended families, which are used as a protection in exchange for unquestioning loyalty. [Source: Geert Hofstede's Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind] P.S The reason I say research is important is because of inputs that you will get about wastage of food. In many offices, I have seen that genuine wastes get merged with recyclable waste. 'We have wasted (this much) food today is good, but it doesn't say much. Innovate a method which enables you to say, we have wasted 32 chapattis, 2.5 kilos of rice, 13 boiled eggs, 9 pieces of chicken...and so on' Where is the team which can do that! This might ring a bell somewhere, those foods could have gone to stomachs that are starving? I have also seen people wasting chapattis because of their size. In some offices, the size is too big. There are people who systematically take one or two bites and then throw them away. In some office chapattis are not so soft. That's why research is needed. In such offices, two/three types of sizes can be introduced with interesting names, viz. cute chapatti, jumbo chapatti, mumbo chapatti.. or soft chapatti, super-soft chapatti; who knows, this can also avoid waste. Whatever you do, be prepared to fail...this is very important. Every day try new ways, and every day you might see the litters are failing you..don't give up...please..because you are on a mission here...you are not just satisfied with the salary you get at the end of every month, but you are working for a much larger cause... surely you will one day find your feather-light litters dancing in ecstasy, and the nation (world) replete and smiling. Remember wasting food is snatching food...don't let this happen..so pull in your socks and get, set and go!
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Choice (posted on: 12-06-15)
some couplets or micro-poems, or whatever you call it...what's in a name!

Prosperity without peace Midas golden touch, ill at ease Education without awareness and bliss Plastic flowers, a decoration piece Growth without empowerment Bonsai trees, slaves of predicament Winning without compassion Deforestation in action Money machine markets Still born triplets Technologies without care Butterfingers playing overture Power without thoughts to cure Continues to be more insecure Knowledge without sense Blocks enlightenment, affluence
These are micro-poems, two-liners or couplets, each holding a thought that readers can interpret in their own ways. The one objective of these poems is to make the readers think. The position of these poems is at the bottom, the poems are lying on the grasses and the readers are placed on a higher platform so they have a bird's eye view. There are eight poems here which can be read in isolation, however, it is also possible to find a link with each of these; as though they (the eight short poems) are sub-sets to the super-set, Choice.
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Three aspects of organisational behaviour might need change (posted on: 08-06-15)
some thoughts on OB

By definition, organisational behaviour is "the study of human behaviour in organizational settings, the interface between human behaviour and the organization, and the organization itself." I have spent 27 years in the corporate, and my article here is based on my experiences, and in my own interest, on some genuine discussions I had had with some of my colleagues. At the outset, I must say that good and heart-warming experiences galore, and I was fortunate to have colleagues who were such good friends that even today when they call me, I feel an instant connect with them. They were the ones who had pushed me to take up things I never thought I could, because I was from a different background. In my effort to being a meaningful trainer, these friends went out of their ways to coach me into highly specialised subjects like Systems Thinking, Conflict Management; a gatecrasher that I was, I fondly recall that during my first session, some of them were outside the class just to come in for help if required; luckily, thanks to their indefatigable efforts, I did not disappoint them, but I would always keep this as my mark of respect to what organisations can do by cascading down the right culture of camaraderie and professionalism. The three important aspects 1. Colleagues are not friends Sad but true, and why so I wonder. Most of us are groomed into thinking that colleagues cannot be friends, and it is because of our thoughts, this becomes true. I have often wondered how all mothers are good, but all mothers-in-law are you-know-what! Even before meeting them, we have an opinion of them... can this be based on logic? This mindset needs to change. How can we see peace in this world if we do not have peace at our workplace? Peace, for quite selfish reasons has a less priority over growth. This is sad. The world outside, the real world, is full of insecurities; especially now, because we are not sure if we'd return home, safe and sound from work. However, inside the organisation, we constantly fight with a win-lose approach. Look at our appraisal model and you will understand what I mean. In my brief interaction for 25 days in an organisation, I met one person who would warn me to be careful because he thought there were enemies all around. Think! Is this person alone needs to be blamed? No. If we need to change this mindset, organisations need to come forth and develop a solid and in-depth mechanism to ensure we can also see a friend in our colleagues instead of only those team-outings and events. Colleagues are made to fight because organisations think they cannot control the workforce otherwise, and per the top notch executives all of this animosity needs to be alive to ensure growth. This logic is not sound enough because if growth were so important, Peter Senge wouldn't alert us on the limits to growth. And who says growth cannot be achieved with friendship? If this is the organisation's mindset, then it needs to change; otherwise, every day we'd need to go to work, and every day, we'd hate to go. 2. Competition means growth There's another important aspect that the organisations need to focus on, competition! Throughout history, as old as time, if we have seen anything horrendous, it is competition! Competition fosters growth without understanding what true competition is, is a wrong mindset. According to the Brahmakumaris (BKs), Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, human beings haven't learnt to compete; the most fascinating competition something that really fosters growth and spreads bonhomie, is competition with Self, with none else. Our entire model, from induction to promotion to attrition happens because of and despite competition. Please do not categorize me as oh he's one of those followers of BKs or some such spiritual organisations and discard saying it is not applicable in the real world, it is very much applicable. If you have never tried anything, from the bottom of your heart, how can you say it is not...otherwise we wouldn't have the digital world today! Organisations market competition as healthy, but according to many social behaviourists, healthy competition is an oxymoron. The expression cut-throat seems more appropriate. 3. Peace, the poor cousin In our pursuit to achievement and growth, peace often takes a backseat. It wouldn't be inappropriate to say that it is shelved as the poor cousin or even the black Peter. As part of OB, we need to factor in peace as an important aspect that can build relationship between people in an organisation as also between organisations. It is sad to see how organisations compete against each other and expect a peaceful world in which they inhabit. Our businesses would have a far more meaningful growth, if peace became our raison d'tre! If profit and money were to be the only cornerstones for success, then there is little wonder to have surprises, sometimes from food products and sometimes from pharmaceutical products. It is this mindless and mechanically driven mindset of wanting more profit and more growth anyhow that put people's lives at stake, killing people or back-stabbing them is fair because that's what we have learnt, and with 'enemies all around' peace indeed is that weak and the poor cousin! People's person, caught in between the devil and the deep sea On this, I have spoken at length to not less than 100 people across levels, and all of them, without exception, have told me how bitter their stress is and how insecure they feel because of competition. I guess they were voicing hundreds of them out there! Some of them have also used the word cul-de-sac to define this model which fosters animosity and mistrust among people. And yet we talk about being a people's person! My sincere appeal to people who matter would be to understand, through meaningful huddles, as to how to bring about a model where individuals can be evaluated in a much more creative way, rather than the traditional win-lose approach. This is a creative, engaging and a daunting task indeed, which can only come about through conviction and meaningful discussions! Else we could just be happy with growth and unhappy with the lack of it, and in both, peace will escape for sure! In between competition and growth, with their respective price, good and bad, organisations and their workforce are perpetually in between the devil and the deep sea. Notes and references: 1. Moorhead, G., & Griffin, R. W. (1995). Organizational behavior: Managing people and organizations (5th edition). Boston. Houghton Mifflin, (p.4) 2. Peter Michael Senge is an American systems scientist who is a senior lecturer at the MIT Sloan School of Management, co-faculty at the New England Complex Systems Institute, and the founder of the Society for Organizational Learning; author of The fifth discipline 3. Brahmakumaris, a spiritual organisation 4. Deepak Chopra is an Indian-born American author and public speaker. He is an alternative medicine advocate and a promoter of popular forms of spirituality 5. Wayne Walter Dyer is an American self-help author and a motivational speaker; his first book Your Erroneous Zones is one of the best-selling books of all time
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Loner the loser, a food for thought (posted on: 08-06-15)
do we need to be more inclusive?

The single-seat Have you noticed that some restaurants have started making room for customers who come alone to eat? They come without any friends, or relatives! Strange as it may sound, but they too like to eat out, go to movies and have fun, albeit alone. Social behaviorists have noticed this sudden change as a growing phenomenon; they opine that very soon the number of lone visitors is growing to increase. I am not going into the reasons here, because the objective of this article is to show how loners are treated at work, even in organisations that claim to be inclusive. The socially challenged with their common needs Broadly speaking, they are defined as socially challenged people hereinafter referred to as 'subject'. They have all other common emotions, like the need to have fun, have a good life, and obviously the need to work; however, they do not have inter-personal skills, also known as soft skills! Studies show that there could be many reasons behind this self-abandonment, one of which could be the so-called superiority complex, or simply the inability to continue with repetitive and meaningless small-talk. The boss maybe an engineer and an MBA from leading institutes, but it doesn't matter to the subject because the boss doesn't know anything about Kafka, or Baudelaire, hasn't read Harry Potter or Marx; therefore, for these subjects, the boss and every member of their team would seem to be a misfit. The subject doesn't socialize with the team because of a probable mismatch in common interest; doesn't accept anybody's friendship on FB; comes and does the work and leaves. The only exchange is a hello, and a warm one, or a bye, or a happy weekend, or even an all the best, as the case may be! The subjects may be even turning down their invitations for the fear of being misunderstood; but do any of these warrant a termination! Organisations can perhaps do little Inclusiveness, by definition, means ''the fact or policy of not excluding members or participants on grounds of gender, race, class, sexuality, disability. In this definition, our society is yet to establish the inability to socialize as a disability. However, atrocities of various kinds loom large in society and organisations. They can range from work getting off your belt orchestrating your low performance to staging allegations of harassment to people not eating, not going out with the subject to people not talking, even to criminalizing the subject. Therefore, at a time when the subject needs help, the door is shown. Until the time there is some kind of remedial help received from within the organisation to recognise the inability to socialize as a disability, organisations can do very little. It is spreading in society at an alarming rate now, and families of the subjects suffer because organisations are unwilling to carry on with them. The consequences for silence As a consequence, these people lose their jobs on various grounds; rude behavior, lack of performance, insubordination, or even worse. Why should they lose their jobs is what I am trying to look at, don't they have a family, don't they have the same needs as other normal people. Then how are the organisations inclusive! Organisations have included the LGBT, the SC, ST, OBC, but are unwilling to include people who prefer to work in silo? What if I labelled them as SCP (socially challenged people), would you accept them then! Is this inclusiveness only at the physical level? Interestingly, it is also observed that the normal colleagues manage to find out horrible stories about subjects; some even insult them as harbingers of negative energy, or find them malicious, they are these black Peters or the Rudolphs! However, they also have the potential to bring the team closer!! It doesn't make their colleagues bad because they manage to find stories, they do so because they are untrained and hence apathetic towards people who don't prefer to socialize and talk. Choice between convenience and inclusiveness Organisations find it convenient to go with the crowd; instead, if they gave the subjects their little space, a little corner to work, developed a mechanism to let them be as they are, it would enable the subjects to continue with their solo fun and entertainment, run their families as their normal counterparts. They may be incapable of small talks, but can achieve big things for the organisations, if only we made room for them? With insecurities growing by the day, the number of Rudolphs is on the high for sure! Whether to go with the crowd or to train the crowd accept the subjects as they are so they fit in the crowd is a choice between convenience and inclusiveness that learning organisations might consider. Otherwise, the single-seats will increase, not in restaurants alone! It's time organisations looked at this important aspect of human relations.
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Servant leadership, imprisoned (posted on: 05-06-15)
On leadership

In my bid to understand leadership and its necessity to change, if at all, I came across an interesting book which answered nearly all my questions; it is The Servant as Leader by Robert K. Greenleaf, a must-read for those who want to re-define leadership and bring about the change it truly needs! In view of the growing intricacies between a variety of variables, traditional leadership for sure needs to liberate its demeanor! With servant leadership applied, organisations, especially the learning organisations, can truly create faith, love and trust among its people than the so-called insecure fear-induced respect. By definition What is servant leadership? As the definition goes, ''Servant leadership is a philosophy and set of practices that enriches the lives of individuals, builds better organizations and ultimately creates a more just and caring world''. Then how does it differ from traditional leadership? ''While traditional leadership generally involves the accumulation and exercise of power by one at the ''top of the pyramid,'' servant leadership is different. The servant-leader shares power, puts the needs of others first and helps people develop and perform as highly as possible''. Leadership, as we see it Unfortunately, what we see is more of traditional leadership. In India and in the APAC region, syndicates are prohibited, aping the west doesn't seem to apply here; however, we can see an un-written union among leaders when it comes to controlling people. Those who work do not seem to have any voice and power why! Those who are led are always ruled, not served why! If I ever bring out a book on leadership as we see, I would quote case-studies to show how leaders have failed from their true leadership, how insecure they were to form unions and work in tandem with HR to throw their weights around, like the muscled 'goons' of the panchayats! Human resource? Interestingly, I recall from one of my mentors who'd asked me to write down the first verb that came to my mind when I thought of the word 'resource', and I wrote exploit. Where are those euphemisms now! There are great leaders too! However, they are few and far between! Most of them are frustrated for sure, fighting day in and day out with mediocrity, and trying to write books on leadership, why not I wonder! The mediocre leaders, on the other hand, with their pathetically frozen understanding of people, shield growth as their showcase; all of which ironically have been delivered by people who are monitored than discussed, instructed than empowered! Most discussions in meetings turn into monologues thanks to the inflated egos of the traditional leaders! To top it all, they insist on a hundred percent participation on their so-called fun-filled events to score points as a great place to work, not attending which are threatened and meted with dire consequences; even fun is fearsome, a show of power, where are we heading I wonder! About leadership, from the voice of a client Traditional leadership needs a thorough change. I wonder when servant leadership is going to be delivered from the confines of a book! Note: 1. Goons - a hired hoodlum 2. Panchayat - a village council
Archived comments for Servant leadership, imprisoned
ifyouplease on 06-06-2015
Servant leadership, imprisoned
leaders are parasites on the body of any society but what's worse is that leaders have parasitical servants on their leadership.

Author's Reply:
Yes! Thanks for stopping by! Supratik

ifyouplease on 06-06-2015
Servant leadership, imprisoned
these are difficult and strange times for Greece, so i am really interested in "leadership" and what it does to people, and i think it always contaminates the masses. (in companies an employer contaminates the employees etc)

the hypothetical question "what if i became leader of the Greek people" has acquired a different quality than i expected as soon as i understood my hypothetically new nature, that of a parasite.


so basically what we see now in the world -- globally i.e. -- and on all levels is an outbreak of surreptitious contamination.

i promoted it because i think it's probably one of the most important issues that must be discussed.

Author's Reply:
Thank you! There's a kind of addiction in the comment...I read it countless times. Yours, Supratik


moments to eternity (posted on: 05-06-15)
...I continue to confuse, but refuse to be not me...let the eyes emerge which tear me down into comprehension...i will giggle like the grasses...

infant night just born a beam of light, like a gush of water that broke from the sky thousands of births the twinkling onlookers gleam is it the same world, one wonders but who cares, as long as there's no tomorrow the overwhelmed sky is relieved takes the night on its lap and smiles limitless moments to eternity
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ifyouplease on 08-06-2015
moments to eternity
i know what you mean - very special poem, probably for few. people are focused on sunrise and forget it's always night in the universe. but the universe shouldn't also be so focused on eternity, rumor has it there are limitless moments beyond, offering beams of light.

Author's Reply:
Yes! Thanks so much for the rating!


clouds (posted on: 22-05-15)
knowledge that is not experiential is cerebral indeed; it brings with it a sense of pride...we miss the fun, unending fun of being in water...just floating..

Let the clouds float... Go soft, don't blow them away O wind The sailor-boats up in the head Will move when it's time to leave. I can feel a sense of warmth, In the cold, thick and thin of thoughts, Let the wind take its time For it's to clear them all at once Will I then not see water as water? Ponds, lakes and oceans will soak in the brain I'd wait for the clouds to rain and wander With winds, without names they'd come again
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sweetwater on 24-05-2015
clouds
This is lovely, especially like the 'Sailor-boats ' line, the 'thick and thin of thoughts' and '. Winds without names' really nice images. Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue! I am glad you liked it. Supratik


Some couplets (posted on: 22-05-15)
these couplets don't rhyme and are not of the same length... they're just thoughts

Whole night, a man slept with a snake When he knew he did, he died Smoking is injurious to health Gun is not, no gun free zones A child, born out of rape Can also breathe Neighboring countries can go to hell Patriots parrot, the village cries People with weapons and arms Search for peace

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Mikeverdi on 22-05-2015
Some couplets
There you go again....:-)
Mike

Author's Reply:
:-))


Clearing (posted on: 18-05-15)
The leaf, which could be a part of a book, or a tree does not really understand what it stands for until it comes face to face with reality, through either a certain kind of abandonment, or neglect... society's perception changes when it throws you out, either because of age, or because of non-compliance; it receives the judgement as long as it is tied, but when it loosens out, it senses freedom and discovers that all those neglects and judgements are trivial; something that had clouded its being as though in a jungle, the fall and the flying away from the shade here is like a clearing... out in the vastness there is no necessity to conform to any prescription or proscription; it takes a leap through the fall.

For a long time, The leaf was with the book. Yearning to be in, Just in... It spoke of many tales Of the jungle! With its wings tied It hung there, unfrequented... For its own words searched for the dew That came from the brooks Slowly, it became illegible It loosened and fell off From the tree, full of stories Told, understood before they're heard Just by their names! Light as a feather, It will soon fly beyond the shade. In the failing, in the losing Blurred vision popped up! A clearing at last
Archived comments for Clearing
Mikeverdi on 21-05-2015
Clearing
Its taken me a while but, I think I get this now. I went back and re read your intro, then the poem again. Pushed or left behind on the fringe of life etc.. I think the metaphor works, but it is deep, and you need a torch to find the end. But as I've said before...that's you. I like your work, it makes me think. 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! Thank you so much Mike!


Outcast (posted on: 18-05-15)
out in the open!!!

Ah The stone is in love now Thrown out from work Outcast from engagements, Disengaged from togetherness, Delivered from involvement, Severed from its seat All work that make the legs fly It has nothing to flaunt Away from words clouding the sky Stitched away from the building blocks Yet With nature as family With an outfit of peace within It has nothing more to lose Nothing to moan Nothing amiss Out in the open, The rock is so much at ease At a stone's throw from its throne
Archived comments for Outcast
Mikeverdi on 18-05-2015
Outcast
So many clues to draw conclusions from, almost like a riddle 🙂 I'm just a 'stones throw' from the answer.
Mike

Author's Reply:
It is perhaps you are thinking like an intelligent person...not like a half-wit...:-)

stormwolf on 18-05-2015
Outcast
Hi Supratik

I am maybe getting this wrong but I am sensing someone who has decided to opt out of the straight jacket of convention and found great contentment amongst nature. I may be wrong if course 😜

Still think you can ditch the exclamation marks !!! Lol

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Why do you think you might be wrong...why! This is exactly what it is...and much more. There is a social networking site called LinkedIn...it is actually for professionals, however there are groups like poetry and literature, poetry, where people like us post poems. One of the remarks I got for 'history wants to be free' was this:
"Well, Ive NO idea what all this collection of words means, and I dont intend to spend a second even trying! You've written a "poem" and feel the need to explain it at the bottom? UNReallll!
And one would think that the snake - the eternal symbol of Evil and Satanism and Man's Disobedience- would be referencing the Garden and Good and Evil and all that that entails! All of a sudden, theres a snake! And its just suspended in midair without connections.....
You wont get many (if ANY at all) comments on this Supratik! Its incomprehensible and simply isnt good poetry (I would argue even Poetry!)- no Creative Energy nor Force nor Cohesiveness or Flow whatsoever!
WHAT were you THINKING?!!"
My knee-jerk reaction to that was to point out where the remarks went terribly wrong... then I thought it was pointless...I kept on telling myself she was right, until I really thought she was; I prayed for her because she is a teacher by profession, and her frankness could be killing, if it were to be received by her student, if you go through the comments, you'd get the vocal clues too, from mixed cases; how excited, disgusted she was with what I had to offer.
There was this painter from Belgium, called René Margitte, in the twentieth century, who, in 'la trahison des images' (treachery of images) painted a picture of a pipe and wrote 'ceci n'est pas une pipe' (this is not a pipe), which created a storm in the literary world at that time. Then it became very famous...in the series 'ceci n'est pas' (this is not), because what was written was also true...it's a bloody image of a pipe, you can't use it as a pipe what have you...so it is not pipe!
So, if and when you are reading anything, you are essentially trying to look beyond the words, albeit through the words...it is readers who make the writers, listeners make speakers...so please feel free to interpret the way you want...the creator is callous, it doesn't even know how to defend itself, it just creates and pro-creates...look at nature Alison! btw, I did ditch those exclamation marks!!!
Supratik

stormwolf on 18-05-2015
Outcast
Hurray!!!

Author's Reply:
:-)))


Peace is not a word (posted on: 15-05-15)
it is not a word

Peace A word lost in the world... Yet Floating in the mind Always, In many ways Within you and me, Is it not? O it's got to be! We're scared to bring it out, It'll ruin all the fun The divides, borders will melt And so would arms and guns. Peace A word hiding in the world... Yet Peeks in every sentient mind In bits we feel and see Wandering through the yearns In momentous epiphany! O moment of peace, O the silent stable sea, In death alone you come, Like a friend winsome! But Why! Why! Why! What's with birth amiss? Can't you fill the sky? When all we want is peace! Tell me With a hand on your heart Peace is not a word In an instant you'll see Me in your charming living world!
Archived comments for Peace is not a word
Mikeverdi on 15-05-2015
Peace is not a word
This I get instantly, great stuff. Some lines I've never read before 'wandering through the yearns' love it.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike! I am glad you like it! Yearn is verb and the nominative is yearning, so it's little wonder you haven't read it before...but if you love that... it's wonderful! Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 16-05-2015
Peace is not a word
Hi Supratik,
I like this poem much more. I feel you overdo the exclamation marks as the poem should hold the passion or the emotion in the words rather than in excess punctuation;-)

I used to have exclamation marks all over my work like confetti but it almost robs the reader of making their own mind up where the strong feeling lies.
I resonate with the sentiments though.
Alison x


Author's Reply:
Yes I do...I need to balance it... please suggest the places...or let me re-do the exclamations and then we can discuss. Thank you so very much Alison!
Supratik


The last wish (posted on: 15-05-15)
I think it will still take some time for the Intelligent people, engaged in diverse activities, like rocket science and weapons for mass destruction, to understand this simple unimpressive fact. But once they do...Oh! The magic will happen. Vol de mort will befriend Dumbledore! And the spell for the transformation could be....Voldoreus!

Again When I woke up today, It was less than dawn. My dream was strange, Patriotism took a leap From my country to my world I viewed myself standing, Like Vitruvian! So diverse my body Yet so one! I could clearly see all the continents The oceans and the seas With their functions and their looks With those mountains and those brooks! I stamped on my foot It hurt I slapped my left hand with my right It hurt Frenzied, I pulled my hair It hurt So silly, I thought, and started caressing My fingers travelled through my world! Everywhere, is it me? Me! And me?! Then where is the real I O, and my country, where is she! O god, do I not have the guilt Am I not a traitor! Am I not a fraud! The calming went on in quiet ecstasy Vitruvian smiles, strong, arms stretched Shamelessly uncovered, an open page I wake up! Last wish told... The painter has come He will place all the parts of my world onto Vitruvian And bury it with me. Tomorrow, they will hang me to death Yes I admit I am guilty. Note 1. *Vitruvian - Da Vinci's Vitruvian* Man .. that depicts a man in two superimposed positions with his arms and legs apart and inscribed in a circle and square. 2. About the poem Vol de Mort and Dumbledore are two main characters in Harry Potter; both equally powerful in the magic art. While the former is known for evil, the latter, also the headmaster of Hogwarts during Harry Potter's tenure is known for good. The poem imagines a marriage between the two's thoughts who are equally powerful and intelligent to bring about a real change in society. Since J.K.Rowling, the author of Harry Potter series has used many spells in her novels that have out-of-the-world experience, the poet, in his utter ignorance, as a mark of respect to the spells that held the world spellbound, had also imagined a spell 'Voldoreus', a combination of the good and the evil (with Vol+dore+us) to transform the troubled world into real peace and prosperity.
Archived comments for The last wish
Mikeverdi on 15-05-2015
The last wish
I'm sure I've said this before but...you can be so weird.
Never boring, but really weird.
Doesn't mean I don't like it 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! I know! I am sorry...but thank you! Supratik

stormwolf on 16-05-2015
The last wish
Hi Supratik,

I have to be honest here and ask you for whom do you write? For if you write with a desire for others to understand, then I am afraid you are not getting it right IMHO 😉

I had to Google the names in your 'about the poem section' as not everyone is familiar with Harry Potter (nor wishes to be);-)

If you write to simply express yourself with no care either way whether others can understand, then that is fair enough. Poetry is so subjective and many times the reader can get a certain feeling, emotion or even really enjoy the imagery without the need to really understand. I can think of some poems I have enjoyed in this category.

However, a mistake many make (again simply my opinion) is to write expecting others to be privy to the writer's innermost thoughts... while if they could stand objectively as a reader and read their poem, they may see that what seemed blatantly obvious to the writer is totally lost to the reader. ;-(



I hope you can see what I am saying. I make a real effort to read and understand poems I read but if I feel that they are almost abstract and therefore have no obvious meaning apart from to their author...then it gets to be too hard work.

I found this and your last poem to be in this category. This is honest feedback with a desire to show how it comes accross to me as an individual.So maybe a tweak here would open up the poem to more people.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Your opinion certainly counts! I am deeply sorry. I find the disappointment as genuine, but cannot not see this as an honour, shocking as it might seem. I will come back with a proper response very soon accepting every word in the response as true and with a reason. I will clarify soon which would include the reason behind the vagueness in the 'about the poem' I promise! I can anticipate your response for the two that are hanging in the submission section!

Have come back - I thought, and thought, and I thought. Let this poem be as it is Alison. Your feedback is definitely going to help me going forward. I have added two notes, regretted it thoroughly, but I did it because you are damn right, a writer should not take things for granted, and it is acerbating indeed if one were to google to find things out. I make a note of this for my future postings!
What the poem is trying to imagine, with its imperfections notwithstanding, is that it's conceptualising, or painting the world as a body, the writer goes through an experience of looking at the world as one; despite being diverse externally and internally, it is connected; and a tension in China (right hand) may cause a tension in Tibet (left hand) depicted through actions like slap, pulling the hair, and without euphemism, just as we don't have any for a bomb blast; likewise caressing the parts of a body is like taking care of the world as a whole. The writer is going through this experience as well. I would remain silent on why the poem chose Vitruvian as the man, because it was tempted to use the posture of Jesus, but it didn't; I would also choose to keep quiet on the dream and the hanging bit. Like you and Mike, I too think that the poem is weird, and since I am the one who created it, I too am...the poem is abstract, confusing... but let it remain, please.
Supratik

deadpoet on 17-05-2015
The last wish
Now someone has opened the egg I will add that I rarely understand a word of your poetry Supratik- it is weird- and as Alison says I also feel you are writing for yourself- I know a bit about it as I did it for a while-what I wrote was absolutely incomprehensible- mostly a lot of words and images, metaphors etc- all jumbled together.

This keeps people away- and therefore I am wary of reading your poetry. Alison coins it well. I am afraid the notes didn't shine a light on this poem for me.



I know your intentions are honest but you might need to rethink what and how you will get your message across. Do you want to write about the near things? Or do you want to take a broad view? You need to communicate it so we understand. Perhaps reading others poetry may help to get some tips ??



All this is said in the best meaning. Good luck.

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!!! Thank you Pia. Good to know this from you. Since you have taken Alison's support to justify your feedback, let me tell you that it wasn't necessary! Good luck to you too! But please drop in and read when you want to get disappointed...ha ha ha, even if you find some of my over-rated poems here! Please keep writing more and more to hone your skills and get more of editor's pick in the days to come. Warm regards, Supratik


history wants to be free (posted on: 11-05-15)
the garden is right here...on the earth... to outwit history seems to be the key... in this new era of technology, everything external changes, from versions, to looks, to its features; yet the beautiful mind that creates all these from behind doesn't...voil le mystre

history hisses horrors the dead is scared of death times frozen in the corridor of minds fluttering flags throw up in the same blue sky colourful reminders of dead streets loyal animosity deceives all external changes no new thoughts outwit the eraser standing as a bodyguard in borders yet new days and fresh nights peek offer new jiffs new waves new darkness new light in this momentous world just born, today, now, here ... but from the leaves of the past crawls the snake its venom becomes the nectar the beautiful creature cries trapped climbs up and down but fails the eraser walls block the roads it wants to be free
Archived comments for history wants to be free
sweetwater on 13-05-2015
history wants to be free
I really like the way you have started this poem, ' history hisses horrors' catches the eye very well, and leads you in. I have to confess the meaning is a little too deep for me but it's a fascinating poem and I have returned to read it several times. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue! Thank you so much! And I admit I wasn't clear enough! Sorry!
The poem travels around three major objects, things, or states of mind, whatever you call it, viz. snake, eraser, history; the name of the poem takes the first and the last four words. Snake is a beautiful, harmless creature, however, our scriptures mark it as a sinful object, an object of disobedience. That's why, perhaps it opens with the conventional image and hisses horrors. History hisses horrors? How can such a beautiful subject have anything to do with horror, if you really love history, you can never destroy a monument, you will only restore it. However, we seem to have taken only one thing from history, that is animosity, it is this loyal animosity that is carried forward year after year, thoughtlessly, which creates horrors. My being an Indian is not complete and authentic enough with the love for my country, it also has to come with my ability to not love Pakistan. India and Pakistan are just one example; you could connect with your own example and realise how dead we are in continuing with this animosity. Eraser, whose function is to erase functions as a wall, inert borders. And our Intelligence does nothing to start afresh, a new beginning is just an expression. Every country's national flags are a matter of pride and why not; yet they come with a lot of hatred, oppression that are now dead, but are scared to die. We cannot take the sacrifice of the freedom fighters alone, it comes with a package; of not forgetting facts and figures that are dead.
For a new beginning, we need to re-look at a lot of things that nurse the conventional image of the object snake, and if need be, sit and discuss as to how we could bring in some changes in the way we think, including our scriptures; we need to consider the world as one entity, else global village is just a fashionable expression! The Intelligence has to think of ways to let the eraser function as an eraser, not as a wall; to treat borders as an administrative necessity, to not let the physical borders put a scratch in our minds. Otherwise changes would only be external.

sweetwater on 13-05-2015
history wants to be free
Wow thank you, think I understand a lot more now. I am not sure it would be easy to rid countries of their barriers, centuries of fighting to stop invasion from those wishing to take over are deeply ingrained. Only if everyone considers all are equal could we become one entity, personally I love the the diversity of different cultures, ideas and histories and if we all become globalised we'll all converge and blend together and lose our individuality and uniqueness. I remember my deep and lasting disappointment when I went on an educational school cruise aged 12. We were in Tel Aviv and I was amazed to be in an exciting land I had read so much about, suddenly among all the history and old shops etc., we came across several British chain stores like M&S, Woolworth's. I could have been in any town over here. It completely destroyed my desire to ever travel abroad again ( and I never have ) it took away all the wonder and mystery of different worlds for me. If I have completely misunderstood your whole point I apologise. Sue.x

Author's Reply:
Sue! I completely understand what you have said so beautifully because I love diversity too, and in no way am I advocating everyone to turn into one rhinoceros, for then China would look like Sweden! If I am really saying that, then I am also suggesting that my elbow look and function like my knee. We can understand nearly everything from the diversity the human body offers. It is ingrained in nature too! I can completely understand your frustration and your disillusionment that stopped you from travelling! Today, everything is available everywhere thanks to the internationalisation. What I am suggesting is to accept diversity as natural and look at the world as a whole and not destroy it, to have a weaponless society! Can we ever see the US resolving their issues with Russia and Ukraine, or China with Tibet. This is where we need the help of Intelligence, my relentless effort will continue to tap the Intelligence to look at possibilities of having a peaceful world, of empowering the poor to become rich, and not keep on helping them from the conventional white man's burden or Big brother's standpoints. Yes it is a daunting task, and that's why we need the help of Intelligence; else yesterdays will continue to be tomorrows.
If you took the political hat off from the poem, you could see the same thing happening between friends, colleagues, and family members. If I fought with my mother 15 years ago, I would continue to do so... and not think of resolving it... it is the same history that troubles, that is otherwise so beautiful. Let Peace be our topmost priority, it is beneficial for humankind in every possible sense, and if I were to speak in a specific jargon, it is also cost effective! Re-consider travelling, mysteries are waiting for you for sure! Thanks a ton!


Witness (posted on: 08-05-15)
don't worry i wash all my handkerchiefs manually, i don't trust the washing machine, ha ha ha!!!

Witness I have an ocean in my handkerchief, Of stories untold Hidden in the dark pocket, The cotton skeleton A rubbernecker of insolence, of cruelty and deforested thoughts! You are telling me to wash it dry, to make it shine again? I'd hold it against the wind and let the tales go Of no use at all, to none of those blinded ears; Yet it had spots bolder than words, Footprints more telling than the ink, What it did; died... Empty winds! With you take them all Let it live with me, I would wash it clean.
Archived comments for Witness
stormwolf on 08-05-2015
Witness
Hi Supratik,
I get the gist of it but you lost me on some bits. Don't know if I care for the analogy of an ocean in your hanky. ;-)Makes me think of someone with a cold lol
I did love the cotton skeleton though!

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! That's why the need to wash them manually!!! But like all the perfumes of Arabia couldn't sweeten those little hands, even my hands fail to wash the kerchiefs clean...maybe because I don't clean them at all...'would' wash you know!! I agree this is a physically challenged poem, but dear to me!! Thanks a ton Alison for stopping by and commenting so affectionately. Supratik

Mikeverdi on 10-05-2015
Witness
Great depth of feeling in your work, I don't always get the full import, that doesn't stop my enjoyment.
'I'd hold it against the wind,and let the tales go' 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Mike! It's embarrassingly stunning when the central line is picked up in the air to batter the stony walls! I am touched! I have this enormous guilt of not spending enough time as a reader now....may be very soon, because I don't want to stop learning and growing up. Best. Supratik


Pillory (posted on: 08-05-15)
In the stangest part of the world, where power of every kind is snatched from the active population, death seems to be the safest refuge.

Cannot keep afloat, not anymore, Prepare for quietus, in the letters that made you speak For bigotry has overwhelmed the catty collars now, For overconfidence had overlooked the frozen horrors. Give your words to them, for you hold no rights, Inexcusable show of smutty heights, Smirking dentures, right through those failing ghettos of humanity In miming games of brinkmanship Overmuch benefaction, a win-lose rope to hang. You are wrecked and sunk, Yet no rats leave the deck, none at all Afraid of safety, being guillotined in foams is safer still For nature holds no charity In the land, cacophony of sacred puffy cats will stone you, Until you sound deaf.
Archived comments for Pillory
deadpoet on 08-05-2015
Pillory
I'm not sure of what you are trying to say here? There is a sad, dark streak throughout and some violence.

Author's Reply:
Yes 'there is a sad, dark streak throughout', and it is also possible to find violence in the poem, if you please. The poem essentially is not talking about those who inflict violence, but the position is for those who are subjected to it! In certain parts of the world, where lands, fortunes, and even the power to speak (words) is snatched from the active population, death seems to be the only refuge. This is on one level, on another level, it is also talking about something I would urge the readers to interpret. Thank you for taking the time to read. Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 08-05-2015
Pillory
Hi Supratik

I get the feeling very clearly here although I am not sure what part of the world you are writing about. It seems that so many countries now have populations that are reduced to poverty and virtual slavery in spite of organisations with their big talk such as the UN who seem to be loud in their condemnation then do bugger all!
I think you are speaking about the boat loads of refugees that have paid all the money they could raise to be exploited by greedy unscrupulous individuals.
For them nature does indeed hold no charity.

Cannot keep afloat, not anymore,
Prepare for quietus,

Of course, you are maybe speaking metaphorically here but it really does not matter for the rage and despair shines through.

What a sad indictment on mankind that so many live thier lives almost yearning for death's escape, when the Vatican has enough money to feed the world and so have a few at the top of the pyramid.
We 'feeling' people look on and experience pain that has to be expressed in poetry.
Many very original and desriptive lines and words. There is anger towards the 'smirking dentures' that I surely share.

You are wrecked and sunk,
Yet no rats leave the deck, none at all
Afraid of safety, being guillotined in foams is safer still
For nature holds no charity
In the land, cacophony of sacred puffy cats will stone you,
Until you sound deaf.

Powerful wring my dear Supratik, powerful and riven with emotion.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Thank you! I don't think I have ever been read so carefully! But from a person who's happy seeing her grandchildren play in the park and yet troubled knowing that in other parts of the world, they are buried, it is no surprise. Yes, this other part of the world is not specific in the poem, for a purpose! Prepare for quietus is, as you rightly pointed out, metaphorical because from here the poem, quite dubiously if I may use the word, is talking about a new beginning through death of frozen beliefs.There are UN and many organisations and countries who have failed us in more ways than one, which, according to me, has happened because of an overlooked fallacy; the poor are always asking for help, and the rich are always trying to help. This model cannot work beyond a point Alison! When I look at organisations flaunting their charitable contributions to society to score some points, I respect that... however, this will not work; not because people are bad, you know we have this belief that the rich are bad and cunning and the poor are honest and kind, noh! The rich and the poor have all of these qualities, in abundance ha ha ha!
In my view, the miseries will be here until we (people with power) do not empower the poor...to the point of making ourselves redundant. This needs awareness, discipline and an understanding that this will not reduce our importance! Empower the poor so they don't need us, but can help us as equals. This needs awareness, and I am sure if human intelligence is tapped, it could connect with nature's. And a BIG thank you for the rating! Supratik

Mikeverdi on 10-05-2015
Pillory
I find your writing is always intriguing, at times disturbing, even unfathomable.... But never boring. This is excellent.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha! I am touched Mike! Thank you so much! Supratik


living-room (posted on: 24-04-15)
To read the note as an extension of the poem!

Living-room Cold-warm afternoon, Lay on my living-room Pigeons warm up the windowsill, There's wooing in the coo, I guess Winds embrace my windows, Flirt with the leaves of Tobu,* A tree I named after my cousin, who died for a cause When I was thirteen! Tobu has grown up to cover my balcony, Comfort my house, with freshness Of unmatched smell and nestling sound Real and natural! Can hear the stable clock, Down somewhere, cows graze The caressed meadow moos in delightful tunes I can feel the oil and the sun Making love to hatch the pickles in those age-old jars On the terrace, love a necklace, all around Far, far away, distinct whistles of the train and its wheels Penetrate in my ears with a travel dwindle; When I was young, I'd pack those bags and hold alls For that one month of relief From work, household chores! Then, I had a family, who, later, for no reason at all, had to join Tobu Stayed alive in the headlines, in candles for some days Now, no vocation, other than reading news that talks of bloodshed Of horror and terror, still loveless neck-less and processed, The greed of good governance waters them with honor, Like I water the plant , With every killing in the unreal world, Tobu stands tall, nourished and nurtured Represents the fallen stars through its leaves and its parts Those bulletins tell me though the world is not livable any more, No room for peace Asks me to believe in this! Despite the overwhelming calm in my world An unending supply of bliss! In a while, familiar faces will come, do their work, and leave Some wouldn't show up I know, With their reasons I'd willingly accept, in a tomorrow, For I know, even if they didn't come, grasses will grow All of us work here with mistakes lost and won, sans stress For reasons good or bad, a mess here, is not in mess I'd have to attend to calls offering personal loans and jobs No I am not interested, I'd say to them, politely though I'd wait for them to hang up, for they made the call Work of other nature, will be done, some undone, with no fuss at all And then, the ball of light will fade from the sky, will be gone To brighten up another part, lit up with love, those pages to be sung With birth of earthly inexhaustible love, to seldom bereave, or leave Sky! O sky! This love you see with all your eyes, But O heavens, the loved look for paradise? My palace of peace, in this I believe Here, darkness switches on remotes, from all around To fill the vacuum, with uncontrolled traffic of sounds The errors make up for entertainment An escapade from the dreadful day spent Unnatural and unreal! I am in my living-room, With those pigeons The whistles and the wheels The clock The cows The meadow The employees The calls The soft, steady and stable birth of the pickles on the terrace The winds smiling through the leaves of Tobu Note *Tobu a Bengali word that means 'still', 'yet'; the /t/ is soft, like French. It is to be pronounced as /to/ as in 'toast' and /bu/ as in 'boulevard'. Why was he named thus! The story goes that his parents were always seen fighting with each other in public, and just when their relatives believed the marriage was heading for a divorce, Tobu's mom couldn't hide the love-bag anymore! In time, when he was born, those loving relatives sent his parents a beautiful card with a couplet inside, that went like this: We wonder how, despite the fury and the fight A son was born out of love, smiling so bright! It was his relatives who named him thus! Later the couple confessed that the fight wasn't real, it was just a show they'd put up on purpose to escape jealousy! This type of fake fights is pretty common among couples expecting a child, whose main purpose is to have a safe birth!
Archived comments for living-room
Mikeverdi on 26-04-2015
living-room
Its an interesting piece of writing, I think I will read it a few more times; there's a lot to take in 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike for reading and commenting! It's about a strange co-existence of disparate worlds feeding from one another notions of reality, truth, which are relative in nature. The writer here, whose age, gender, and also the three units (time, place, action) can be either seen as hidden or could be interpreted as universal in nature seems to be relating to or connecting with a path which is presumed to be on the tracks of peace, comfort, acceptance and devoid of the so-called growth and competitiveness. The poem has many questions and answers, it extends to the note to trigger those questions in the minds of the readers. I am deeply touched and honored with your consideration of coming back to it some time later. Best. Supratik


Falling from the indomitable freshness (posted on: 06-04-15)
A fall that spreads

Falling from the indomitable freshness Brown days, tired and sleepy, Destined to fall free As autumn leaves, Or a brewing steam that went wrong Waiting in the cold... Yet Days gray, yellow and white Appear anew, stretching for colours! It's a merging, in the midst of things. For the rising child, The relentless brush pokes Needless needles, Until with softness, the brightness The freshness of imagenie* It appears smoky in the shelves. There is a wind that begs, blooms, flourishes Still The most fearsome storm With the green bomb, Incapable Leaves, grasses Ready to spring, splurge Falls in the silent woods With a spread, unnoticed, All around, The earth gets it all! In the new forest-fresh world The blind sun is born, crying Undressed, unwilling, drained Staging a bed, in time Prepared to pounce on the pounding Pumping heart Faking to be child's own blending Mellows, Yet set to be brown. The fertile waters chirp through the wind Soften the ear melt the pride of the crown. *Imagenie A word that is left to be interpreted by readers
Archived comments for Falling from the indomitable freshness
sweetwater on 06-04-2015
Falling from the indomitable freshness
Loved every second of reading this, the ' green bomb ' analysis is terrific, such fascinating images really bringing the whole new birth of spring alive.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Sue for your kind words and the rating. It is heartening to see the way you have interpreted the poem! I am touched! Best. Supratik

Supratik on 27-04-2015
Falling from the indomitable freshness
The poem is about letting go of the self, from the conditioning; self, which has the potential to be free! Our teachings do not necessarily allow the self be free from the mind; if the sky is blue, it has to be painted blue. While it is safe and secure to be within these margins and boundaries, it often kills our imagination, our imagenie [something that has a genie like magic]. The poem says that we'd probably be able to achieve that state of liberty if we are prepared to listen in to the freshness that nature offers in every minute of the day, and if we drop your ego (melt the pride of the crown) to become really 'responsive'; it is then that our genie (imagenie) flourishes, else it can be just an entertaining story dusting (smoky) or getting brown in the shelves. While most lines in the poem can be interpreted in two ways, the essential bit talks about the blindness that kills our true self, our originality. The indomitable freshness indeed refers to a particular season, the spring!

Also, if you observe the fall here, it is not necessarily a fall, as in a fall from virtue or value so to speak; it is something that spreads on the earth, as a gift from the source! So freshness is indomitable, inexhaustible, it is always ready to shower...only if one is ready to receive!

Author's Reply:

stormwolf on 06-05-2015
Falling from the indomitable freshness
OMG Supratik
This brought tears to my eyes. You have excelled yourself here.
You are indeed a spiritual poet with a voice that needs to be heard!
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison...and can I thank you enough for the rating, ha ha ha! I am glad you liked this one!


Visio infectum (posted on: 27-03-15)
somewhere in between (so naive huh this in between!) the mind and the world, life wills for a space

Visio infectum I have scratches in the mind, My mind. Pages blot. Forms, shapes, impaired in letters; Halted interactions Mimic on a shining surface. Glassy waters, dressed as mirror-pieces Screech in lines; black, In blocks of silence, I was drawing in the world, My world. Withdrawn, yet reborn; Willingness, its helplessness Despite aphorisms, In the juicy-leafy semiotics of life
Archived comments for Visio infectum
stormwolf on 06-05-2015
Visio infectum
Hi Supratik
Another deep poem that deserves to be read and read again. Many of us are struggling to make sense of this world we find ourselves in.
You are correct in that the source wants to bring green and rejuvenation always but mankind is standing in the way...or should I say, a corrupt minority.
This poem highlights how I often feel.

My world.
Withdrawn, yet reborn;


Alison x

Author's Reply:
Hi Alison
I am deeply touched by your comment. Yes, I know you feel that way, I can say this with authenticity because I read Stormwolf. That mankind is standing in the way is not only a beautiful expression, it is also a fact! This our 'intelligence' (the powerful) needs to understand and give way. The Intelligence that offers nature and the one we do are in opposite directions. Mankind uses intelligence to protect, to defend, to safeguard, to profit, to be more and more powerful; hence it is little wonder that we produce arms, we generate wealth as a show of power; and not look at the other Intelligence... it is always giving, giving and shamelessly aimlessly giving..ha ha ha!!! If one day our intelligence is able to plug in to nature's intelligence, the magic will happen... just imagine a day when the US and Russia would become best of friends...like really, really best of friends... and the UK, France and Ukraine would rejoice and celebrate that union, that friendship... because they realise that the need to use intelligence for exuding negative energy has ceased to exist between these two countries...all the lovely souls of the US and Russia would be relieved beyond imagination; so let's imagine that Obama and Putin are playing tennis together. Does this mean that the problem of the world is because of these two countries, no! It means that resolving the problem has evolved from the understanding of the problem as affecting both the countries and the world, and has been addressed in a manner (not with a moist vision, but with a clear one!) from which the whole world has benefited. It's a creative, an involving, and an engaging work that is no less interesting and intellectually stimulating than understanding the outer world, the Space! And if you thought it could never happen, look at Germany... look what the country has done to break those walls and re-unite... at a time when the world is dividing and sub-dividing, the country willed to forget its past and start anew...just 25 odd years ago...look at how they train their kids from school, by taking them to the concentration camp and telling them what they should never do. So, it is possible to re-direct our intelligence in the nature's way.
Of course I did not think of these while writing the poem, but they keep floating in my mind all the time. Thank you for picking those lines!

Supratik


Insane ecstasy (posted on: 16-03-15)
The world belongs to me. It is my property. I will put hatred, anger, killings of all kinds behind me. There will come a day, not so far away, when we'd get back to our natural self; Peace. I will erase war, terror, horror from the face of the world; my world.

Insane ecstasy Another day of thoughts, to kill again, Never spare to kill, Black choice, white bargain To let it go, no effort no skill; In the living, divides in scores and tons In the killing, there is none! Guilty is my world lying deep in me Can I clear it all with insane ecstasy! The will to kill, the wire's everywhere, My ribs are stunned with shocks and trapped in the air, Guns in those arms, they're deaf still and stiff Beings a while ago are bodies in just a whiff; Death takes the breath away from the dead Scarlet news that purple, no step to stop the dread! Guilty is my world lying deep in me Can I clear it all with insane ecstasy! My thoughts are in the woods, and I am taciturn, Raging thoughts I kill, so they'd never return I have the world with me, in the little big I do I will nil the germs, in me brewing anew Pictures paint in spasm, in chapters closed for sure Stillness alone will stay in pages strong and pure! Guilty is but a word living dead in me! Without it in view, is the insane ecstasy
Archived comments for Insane ecstasy
stormwolf on 06-05-2015
Insane ecstasy
I would conjecture that insane ecstacy will lift us up and in doing so affect the status quo for humanity.

My thoughts are in the woods, and I am taciturn,
Raging thoughts I kill, so they’d never return
I have the world with me, in the little big I do

exactly!

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison! Yes let's hope so and let's not get deluded by the reality that the tension across the world forces us to believe as real...it is not...let's look at what nature offers, let's look at the peaceful world we as individuals create around us, and consider that as real! Thank you for reading and commenting so beautifully! Supratik


And buried underneath (posted on: 06-02-15)
who are these

Under the earth, They lie in muddy albums Burnt, buried, rotten! Who are these? Poor cousins! Far, far off my lands Their nourished thoughts Woke up from the same bed Sounding strange in disfigured ribs! They froze and shivered for a quilt But I thought they were dancing And gave them ghoongroos⃰ They died with them, tied in their bones. I wouldn't dig them out, For there's more to come To sleep under the bed of coloured tears The earth prepared to take some more... I am busy making ornaments, I will ignore the tremor Behold the dance. When they'd shiver in their imprisoned frames! I am keeping the berth soggy enough, Not to struggle too hard to scoop the concrete For some more needs to be burnt, And buried underneath Note: Ghoongroos: also known as Ghunghroo or Ghunghru or Ghungur (Bengali) or Salangai (Tamil) is one of many small metallic bells strung together to form Ghungroos, a musical anklet tied to the feet of classical dancers. 03 February 2015
Archived comments for And buried underneath
Bozzz on 07-02-2015
And buried underneath
Are these the demons of young sleep? A bit hard to understand the context, but beautifully worded descriptions. tell me more.....Yours, David in thicko mood today. Sorry.

Author's Reply:
David! Thanks!

The poem is essentially about a voluntary shift of focus. The desperate movements for survival appear as something else... so the need is not understood... as a result there does not seem to be any change... the world around the poem continues as it is... however, in the end, there is some kind of consciousness to keep the ground soggy, because interpreting apples (ghungroos) for oranges (could be anything here, shivering for a quilt is just one way of looking at it) will not help. 'Expressions like 'bed', 'berth' have some images that talk about the origin, but they are not clear, more of a sketch of impressionism, if I may say so! This is on one level.
On another level, the poem is about understanding and accepting 'self'.

Cheers! Yours, Supratik

Nemo on 08-02-2015
And buried underneath
Puzzled from the start - are you writing about the dead? Why are the burnt and then buried? Is this the custom? Are they in photograph albums? Penultimate line - shouldn't 'needs' be 'need'? The two conditionals 'I wouldn't dig' and 'they'd shiver' don't fit in the the main tense. Sorry, struggling but I had a try.
Gerald.

Author's Reply:
Gerald! Interesting! Some more is used as a singular number here... the poem is not looking at the dead individually...if 59 people die, it is a number... I am not talking about any particular custom here, burnt in some cultures, buried in some, therefore a comma, I spared myself from using the conjunction of coordination on purpose, yes it is talking about mass killing, innocent-killing, lying on the streets, which are not given importance... the poem does not carry any grudge, it is not complaining at all...hey but this is just on one level...
I wouldn't dig and they would shiver [they'd] do fit in some way... some of my poems do not speak with clarity as I do have problems with it... what is clarity Gerald, what is it? The idea of something as this and not that is a bondage don't you think... take a close look ... you might find a different interpretation. Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 08-02-2015
And buried underneath
Hi Supratik
A poem that was not fully understood on first reading but the feeling comes over nevertheless.
I particularly liked this
They froze and shivered for a quilt
But I thought they were dancing
And gave them ghoongroos⃰
They died with them, tied in their bones.

I appreciated the translation of the word but the imagery is stark and uncompromising,.
A feeling of menace approaching

I wouldn't dig them out,
For there’s more to come

then

I am busy making ornaments,
I will ignore the tremor
Behold the dance.
When they’d shiver in their imprisoned frames!


I can really tune in for I feel it too. Many of us do, the whole world round but difficult to know what to do.
There is also a feeling to me at least of a sense of being almost overwhelmed. Again I can relate. Your poems are deep and deserve to be read many times.

Alison x


Author's Reply:
Alison! I am speechless! You have used three significant words on which stands the poem, viz. uncompromising, overwhelmed and feeling. Situations that surround us now are beyond discussions and debates, and yet there is a need to discuss, to talk about the real purpose of our existence. Yes, what appears as 'shiver' can also be interpreted as 'dance'...it's only when you come close you see, or 'feel'...the poem urges one to feel the tremor...there's a difference drawn between an I and a they here, however, that's an illusion... there is no they...only I...only me... so the trick that is voluntarily overlooked by many, just for the sake of convenience and simplicity, is to find the non-dual self acting in all situations that surround the I.
I am deeply touched. Yours, Supratik


Hello hi (posted on: 23-01-15)
hello hi

With a hello that is hollow, Or a hi that is low, Nothing will mellow, Nothing will follow. With a hello that is high, And a hi that is warm, Nothing will lie, Nothing will harm.
Archived comments for Hello hi
stormwolf on 24-01-2015
Hello hi
A very interesting little poem that says so much in so few words. I really love poems with a message
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison for reading and commenting so beautifully! I am glad you liked it!!! Best. Supratik

Bozzz on 24-01-2015
Hello hi
There is a need for another word - you are the right man to plant one - perhaps a competition in UKA for the best one with a 100 word reasoning allowed for the choice. Fame at last!
Well done Supratik.....Seriously, I am not joking. Yours David

Author's Reply:
David! it's a Sunday morning here in India now, and I wake up to read such a warm comment!! Thank you so very much! I am humbled. Yours, Supratik

Mikeverdi on 25-01-2015
Hello hi
Excellent! Agree with the others. Well done with this one.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Mike! Thank you very much for reading and commenting. Cheers! Supratik


Unprepared (posted on: 19-01-15)
preparedness

Screening the clouds, in the sky, bound to fall as blue horror. Used with series of grief, nothing happens, only preparedness, for the next waters of shame bound to flow inside the veins. Today, I decide to walk under the sun, darkness inside falls on the indomitable grasses. Such is the truth. There is no relief. Masks prepared. Unprepared stage.
Archived comments for Unprepared
Mikeverdi on 19-01-2015
Unprepared
I think I need to read this a few more times as I'm not getting it. My fault I'm sure, I can be a bit thick at times 🙂 I'll get back to you HaHa!
Mike

Author's Reply:
There are many things that happen around us we don't understand. Screening or otherwise, something that's bound to fall or flow will, no matter what. From concerns to successes to failures to horrors, they come in masks...else how does one understand something as beauty, right, correct which the other doesn't. We resist what is clear, we resist what is natural... this is the best I could do as explanation; the poem is bound to delve under confusion, even with the Intelligent mind; so it is little wonder you did not understand. But thanks Mike for considering reading it again. Yours, Supratik

Bozzz on 20-01-2015
Unprepared
Yes, Lady Luck - the future is a deceptive being - try sun and you get clouds - love this poem. Would Sod's Law be an English alternative comment? Good write Sir....David.

Author's Reply:
David! I love this comment...if anything has to go bad, it will...spear of destiny!!! Your interpretation is very interesting... you know what..in India people are very 'touchy' (this term is used in India more frequently, and most always in the wrong context) about Sir! I hope I got it right Sir! Yours, Supratik

Nemo on 22-01-2015
Unprepared
A poem which is a wee bit of a challenge. It reads like a pessimist's piece and I'm all in favour of that but from my perspective I find the pessimist is well prepared so he can't be caught out by the whims of fate. (I said that would happen...) Therefore I find the title contrary. Line 5 'used with' - I'm thinking would be better as 'used to'? There is hinted at in this poem a store of unhappiness which could be a source of further creativity. I'm all in favour of letting it all hang out.
Cheers, Gerald.

Author's Reply:
Gerald! A notorious reader that you are is a pleasure to have the poem caught at more or less the right spot, not a red spot though! Your observation is valid of course. But no, it is used with says the final version of the poem! Thanks a ton for repeating 'I am all in favour', which going by your erudite standards would mean you are not, but I would be simple and naive enough to accept it. Reading your comments is always interesting! Yours, Supratik

P.S. Ye editors and managers!!!
1. Can't we add some smiley here! Why is this place so you-know-what!
2. Why should I get a red underline for spelling favour with a 'u'... I don't have anything against American English, but I am just curious to know why!


Move on! (posted on: 16-01-15)
Cannot peace be a deliverable!

The path towards peace is a daunting one, Needs merciless shredding of thoughts, Admittance of mistakes, Relentless and passionate re-work of Words, Books, Actions, One, one, one to focus on the One! This battle has to be won and delivered to the World, When an American or a Mexican is killed I am killed, A Pakistani, an Indian, a Bangladeshi killed I am killed, A French or English killed I am killed. A myriad of times with bullets and guns, To focus on the one, to focus on the One! The world belongs to me and me to the World, Without visas and passports full of inert words! For the passion for horror I have passion for peace, I am not meek to accept you at ease, I am talking to you, to you if you please! Searching for shades of sameness is a shame, Looks of a pet and a child are not taught. Different and incorrect are not twins, Yet roots are born in the veins of brains, Brought into us through ages with a designed thoroughfare, Everybody has a logic by which they act as if to care; Those in bikinis and those with guns, To focus on the one, to focus on the One! Those who terrorize and those who harmonize This reason needs acceptance not to jeopardize. Rejection is the root that ransacks the calm, Their smiles and their barks have the magic and the charm! We need the table to understand the game, Searching for shades of sameness is so much of a shame. My hidden world of peace tell me when you'd come! How we'd like to sing that we have overcome If we make peace our priority, a measure for growth and development, our only raison d'tre, then it is no rocket science, paths will show up. However, I know it's never going to happen so let's move on!
Archived comments for Move on!
Mikeverdi on 16-01-2015
Move on!
Your last line..if we made peace etc. said it all. Short of a new (and very real Messiah) arriving on a cloud telling us to sort ourselves out or else...we are stuck with an endless succession of wars.
I enjoyed the read for all that 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Mike! Thank you very much for reading and commenting! Best. Supratik


Black Peter (posted on: 12-01-15)
Oh everybody!!!! This machinery can also be cruel and even go wrong at times, don't you think?

Peter for god-knows-what was proud, Never got along well with the innocuous crowd, Was rude with everyone including his boss, His team thought his mind was pretty little cross. When you spoke with him he went all so tan, He'd whisper with a few, as if crafting a plan, He wrote his senseless lines and thought of them as poems, Then texted his colleagues to read; only to those he thought were friends. The team and the boss got their life of a chance, To uproot this Peter with his obnoxious stance. A lady in the team made a strong written complaint A text sent at night? O this is harassment! But wait! This wasn't just enough, Peter also performed way below his peers. Faults here and there, said the trusted reviewer. Now he'd be out for sure, it's clear without a bluff. The bad apple's out, the triumphant team was glad, Good riddance from the con that made them always sad, With him in the team no one was ever safe, But Peter per the doctor was myopic and deaf. But listen to this my friends! Peter says, victims are always cruel, That he's still a victor who'd survive in the hell. He worries on the Peter who'd appear next on stage, The play is waiting there to replay without a change! I am glad I wrote this. The poem tries to see how group judgement can sometimes go wrong. We seem to depend too much on the machinery called 'everybody' but at times it can be cruel and even wrong! A group of people, in victim mode, inflicting inexplicable pain on one individual is no less than a gang rape or a terror attack. All of this happens in the name of justice.... if you asked those men who are gunning down innocent people, as to why they are doing what they are doing, they'd have something to say, so where is the difference?
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Above mediocrity (posted on: 12-01-15)
it's a discovery quite ordinary?!...that for being kind and peace-loving, you need to be beautiful, have a beautiful childhood, and not be deserted by your spouse...our mythology had it long ago...oops...by our mythology, i don't mean indian...but it's mine.. for the world belongs to me!

I will rise above mediocrity, And with me will raise a race, Where do I see you and not see me? In clouds without mirth and grace! You who do not respect elders, neighbours, Have taught me self-respect; You who worked up the workers, Have taught me to be honest; You who were afraid of death, bred terror Have taught me fearlessness, About love and peace; You who nurtured hatred and anger, Didn't you teach me about bliss? But this is not what I see Mount Olympus! I know what you have hidden from above, The child, who was ugly, I learn, Embodied kindness and peace! Rejected by parents, Deceived by his wife A Goddess of love With war in her brain, His seat rived to the lowest abyss, The smith weaved through the deserted life. I forgive my teachers and guardians on this day, For the same song they heard, The same verse did they nurse! I will rise above mediocrity come what may. With me I will follow my herd; How can in my universe, Be anything other than me? Finished now my ignoble blaming hearse, Learning drizzles ceaseless for free! Note: Hephaestus is the son of Zeus and Hera. He is the only god who is ugly. As a child, he was rejected by his parents. His wife, Aphrodite, goddess of love was in love with Ares, god of war. Hephaestus was kind and peace-loving.
Archived comments for Above mediocrity
Bozzz on 14-01-2015
Above mediocrity
As you so rightly point out, real beauty is in the mind and actions of a person, but in much of today's superficial media-driven life, hair, skin and body shape are worshipped in their own right. As we age, we see these things more clearly. Asking pertinent questions, an excellent poem Supratik - despite one minor grammatically uncharted leap in V2 L1, but well within licence In friendship, David


Author's Reply:
David! Thank you for stopping by! When readers, who are excellent writers themselves, point out something they consider as mistakes, or a leap, they are actually trying to help...that's what I believe in... I get upset when changes are suggested, like move this from here to there and so on; I get upset because I consider this as my limitation...especially when I am unable to accommodate! I am glad you liked it... Supratik.


Gothicman on 15-01-2015
Above mediocrity
Cannot say why in descriptive terms, Supratik, but enjoyed the read, and no suggestions, one way or the other! Hahaha! Contained some form of mystique and of course, "a beautiful childhood", who could wish for more as a foundation for a long and harmonious life?
Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor! If I am polite with you, I'd say you are a responsive reader, but if I am affectionate with you, I'd say you are a notorious reader! Does that reflect how much I appreciate your pointing-outs? I said in my earlier communication with you that I am not so open when it comes to changing this to that, which I recognize as my challenge, and I guess this is to stay merely because the positioning of my words is interdependent. But this should not make me defensive, especially when it comes from good writers like you. However, when you say that there are no suggestions for improvement, is it not a BIG relief...like ah!
I am glad you liked this one! Yours, Supratik


Behind the screen (posted on: 09-01-15)
O thoughts! But behind the screen is also another screen...no? yes? what!

Decked-up words, Colorful, beautiful, Catapulted with smiles, Hand-to-hand touch; Selling the world, to the world! Buyers are tired with the sellers, Pretense glows the figure, Killing the words by kissing them good, Thoughts, the grandma of red riding hood! Blaming the innocuous wolf! Balance complains against the fulcrum The world of disputes shows on the humdrum. Silence cries in the crowd Of buyers and sellers, Tired words go back into the greenroom To rest, for a while Write some lines in open space To meet the feelings, Their mothers, in age-old homes With and without a shake and a smile! Ready again for the go Onto the plastic stage for the tiptop show, With thoughts untrained, But words all decked. With multiple organisations engaged in World Peace, why doesn't it happen I wonder! Where is the gap. Farmers are born in debt, live in debt and die in debt is true for most third-world countries! But what is true for the all the first, second, third and fourth (is there one?!) worlds is that we are all born listening about Peace, live and die in it! Well, but this poem is not only about that...it's much more, if you please.
Archived comments for Behind the screen
Mikeverdi on 09-01-2015
Behind the screen
Answer....I please and am pleased. Good stuff 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you Mike for reading and for leaving behind such a lovely note! Best. Supratik


Take a way (posted on: 09-01-15)
I struggled hard on the title...among the short-listed were take a way and inside is the room...i don't know if take a way or taking a way justifies the content of this poem, but i thought of keeping take a way....

Take a way, Into the woods; Times don't stay. Inside the room. Take a way, Empty streets; Roads of mind, Paths will find. Take a way, Leavers,lovers; Smile on the lane, Rocks can't block. Take a way, The lost and the found Are engrossed in love, Just the same! Take a way, Onto the sky; Thoughts will bloom, Inside is the room.
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Trapped in between always and never (posted on: 29-12-14)
Being trapped in the absolute is okay I guess, but realising it can be stressful!

People trapped in their temple of always and never, I love them not because they're wise and clever; They are these people, who tell me from close, To be not as firm and as rigid like those.
Archived comments for Trapped in between always and never
Nemo on 31-12-2014
Trapped in between always and never
Perhaps take the 'the' out of line 1 and say 'Try to' in line 4. Perhaps remove the comma after 'these people.' Not many subscribers are commenting these days. Maybe in the case of this poem the message is a bit puzzling. Also the phrase 'from close' seems odd and perhaps there to rhyme with 'those.'
Regards, Gerald

Author's Reply:
Thanks Nemo for reading and commenting... your observations are great...thanks for that...I wrote this long ago...re-posted it here just to connect...wish you a very happy new year!!! Cheers! Supratik

Bozzz on 31-12-2014
Trapped in between always and never
I think we need to appreciate the Asian rhyming couplet approach to understand this short poem - in those terms maybe "from close" can make perfect sense. The whisper of advice perhaps?. Good write SupratiK...My best to you for New Year...David

Author's Reply:
David, thank you for reading and commenting. I have changed the last line. Readers are not obliged to comment, however, if they do, it's great! Poems for me are a compulsion, I don't know if I need to say more!
And here's wishing you a great 2015! This year, the world will not witness any horror, any terror, it's the unbelievably peaceful world that will appear before us I promise. Yours, Supratik

P.S Does it sound like a new year resolution! 🙂


restoration (posted on: 26-12-14)
restoration could be a new ball-game, but can the mind that history has hurt be restored!

From the mountain of papers, An old map peaked. Unbelievable that the countries looked Like a bundle, a ball of love so inviting! No time to look at these playthings now! I have come here for a purpose, I have to go. But why was the map disfigured? Heaps of thoughts, Scratched, unstructured, unattended Now need to be scrapped, trashed. The sun outside Shining just as it did, years ago What if we had to restore the sun! These papers in which I stand surrounded, Look like a scattered map, Or so thinks my playful mind!
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Simple (posted on: 26-12-14)
A wish on Christmas

What is the glowing sun doing? The moon, the river, the wind, The flowers and fruits, Caste-less, without layers, No track of the sinner and the sinned, Giving without correcting and guiding others! Amidst all of this circus of giving, There comes a dais of beings, Power to forget, in human attire, Acting to fit unfit misfit rules and laws, Of revenge and vengeance for flaws without Error, Hurting the mirror in the guise of others! Words are pills that fill in the hole, Names are roles to damage the Whole, What we see on stage we do not see, What we hear on the Page we do not hear, How did it start I wonder I wonder! The bothers that block from the one to another! Simple, simple, simple, so simple is the world! The mind cannot grasp this silly little Word! Relentless are those stars that pour into the pot! Lightly overlooked by the clever, Intelligent lot! Yet cry so alive for Peace, Wealth and Power! With thoughts that kill but are meant to flower
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The shameless (posted on: 19-12-14)
clumsy

Perhaps poems would never be ever sung, Exams would never be ever written, When power is on fire, and humanity hung, With children butchered by the nerves not shaken! They were shot with all those inert guns The sounds didn't move those hooligans! What a shame, a display of weak cowardice, Let us walk all uncovered right on the streets, Our fingers on earth let write defeats, How horrid is the purpose of living here! Where poems are crushed with lethal care, Clumsy, clumsy, clumsy are those adult minds Who want to ruin and jeopardize, They cleared those pupils from the earth To prove their point of shameless worth! December 16 will be remembered as the black day for humanity. On this day 135 children lost their lives while writing their exams. I heard a distinct voice telling me last night (20 December) that I need to change a word in this poem, that if I have to bring in peace, I cannot be unkind to an entire race because of some, the voice went on saying that my poems are written to re-establish the true nature of humankind; peace and love and friendliness to all. Therefore, I changed that word, and for the period it got a place in the poem I seek my readers' pardon.
Archived comments for The shameless
Bozzz on 20-12-2014
The shameless
A very moving poem with some adjectives that perhaps are too kind to the ignorant mentally deranged seven. Excellent writing Supratik.....Youurs aye, David

Author's Reply:
What should we do! Thank you so much David for passing by and leaving a comment. Yours, Supratik

Bozzz on 20-12-2014
The shameless
A very moving poem with some adjectives that perhaps are too kind to the ignorant mentally deranged seven. Excellent writing Supratik.....Yours aye, David

Author's Reply:


Ode to being (posted on: 19-12-14)
why does the intelligent mind overlook this

Amidst all the wars and divides, All the worries and unrest, All the bitterness and strides, All the masks that manifest, Love is the only force, Light the only source. Amidst all the powers and plights, All the snatching and fights, All the words untrue, unkind, All the thoughts without mind, Love is the only force, Light the only source. Amidst all the blunders and borders, All the bloodshed and orders, All the hatred and hungers, All the poverty of mongers, Love is the only force, Light the only source. Amidst all the blinding differences, All the known unknown fences, All offences and defenses, All brackets of nonsense, Love and light exist as the only living, The force and the source of the lovely being
Archived comments for Ode to being
ValDohren on 21-12-2014
Ode to being
Quite agree Supratik, but there's not much of it about in this god-awful world.
Seasonal best wishes.
Val

Author's Reply:
Val, Thank you for stopping by and commenting. Yes I agree. Best wishes to you too! Yours, Supratik


Morning story (posted on: 12-12-14)
a morning

A lady, old and wrinkled Silently sips coffee from her cup, She seems to be waiting for something What is it her call? Her lower lip touched the European dragon's blurred head Painted in gold, its serpentine tail still shining Thanks to years of monitored washing. The trembling hand places it on the table mat. Eiffel tower! Painstakingly cross-stitched to perfection that'd put Gustave to shame With her needle eyes, at a time She went on for the honeymoon with her mate, Now hanging on the wall; And the mat! It lay on the gleaming table, expensively carved, Connected with stories of trees, forests, fruits, birds and bees! The newspaper comes with the calling bell, Sailing from her servant's folded hands to hers; She smells, then smiles and opens it up! Her morning story is complete with The touch of a brewing coffee, Adorned with sonorous sips!
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A Christmas orange (posted on: 12-12-14)
it is of living

An orange is on a December table The Sun from the French window Has come with a birthday card, From my daughter, on my 102nd birthday; I was born on a Sunday at 10 a.m. on the 25th, My parents were happy to call me Lady Christ I recall The Sun now is comforting a big balcony Where I sit looking focused at the fresh glowing orange. Dear Mom, Me, Marta, Stephane, Kurt, Dave, John We miss you. My second granddaughter, Lucille says A big hello, thank you, and same to you on your birthday When she'll also be two, like you! Love you. The halo around the orange is a little less than soft, But the warmth has become more charming. Much like Dorothy, Smith, and other inmates of this stable, moving graveyard; I hear faintly the morning news of war and other familiar developments, It's strange they want to die at an age they should live. The TV howls a 'we shall overcome' song Not sung, but played around, and known as background music. As I start peeling the orange; the smell of the juice Pours into my fragile and outlived hands all its freshness! When apples have become hard for me, This belladonna warms up my overestimated life. Something tells me I will surely get another card very soon, Another orange in the midst of the morning sun on my veranda May be tomorrow! My maids tell me that every day is Christmas for me!
Archived comments for A Christmas orange
sweetwater on 13-12-2014
A Christmas orange
A very atmospheric, and reflective poem, I didn't know whether to feel sad, or envious of this lady, she was obviously mourning the loss of her abilities, due to her great years. Or to be envious of the warm sunny balcony where she sits with her oranges brought by her maid. I thoroughly enjoyed spending a few minutes with her anyway. Lovely poem Sue .

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue... I am really glad you liked the poem; it went a little long because it is a note from a lady who has been here for quite some time, and is still enjoying in her own capacity. 🙂 Best. Supratik


Birds teach (posted on: 07-11-14)
If one is willing to learn, birds can also teach.

Where pigeons glide and go, peacocks don't dare, The former though in ways, a pretty miniature; If one's a bit of a postman, for friendship and for peace, The other's all for colour, for pride and expertise! They are so complete, in their own different ways, A classroom opens wide, with wings in their plays; If these teachers ever knew, how priceless is their worth, Would they start fighting, for their place and their hearth? Where peacocks dance and run, pigeons don't dare, The latter though in ways, a pretty miniature; If one's all for colour, for pride and expertise, The other's a bit of a postman, for friendship and for peace!
Archived comments for Birds teach
Bozzz on 07-11-2014
Birds teach
I like this one Supratik - very much. Pigeons are highly intelligent among the bird population, wily, cautious, superb fliers. Yes and peacocks are like butterflies, all show and no sense. Free Rhyme and asymptotics to the fore - Bravo !

Author's Reply:
Thank you David! I am glad you liked it...and also the rhyme! Best. Supratik

Savvi on 07-11-2014
Birds teach
Nice one Supratik, enjoyed the inversion in the last stanza. Best Keith

Author's Reply:
Keith! Thank you for reading and commenting! Great to know you enjoyed the inversion! Best. Supratik


some couplets (posted on: 03-11-14)
Some couplets that capture feelings we often ignore or overlook.

Origin Coal and diamond have the same womb Children with different looks and worth Still movement Light comes from darkness, sound from silence The movement is in the illusion of the organs The immeasurable A mango, an apple; both are sweet, says the tongue The difference cannot be written in words Foolhardy PowerPoint presentation has neither power nor any point Only bullets with skill that kill the powerful mind Elements Anger has no range Yet they are anagrams, strange! Connection Feelings matter, as the basis of connect Else warm words can be cold, disconnect power on one side is power everything is fair
Archived comments for some couplets
Bozzz on 04-11-2014
some couplets
Very interesting Supratik. You mentioned the style earlier and your examples here are very similar to what we call paraprosdokians, but more brief, in rhyme and more subtle. I will try some myself if I may. Best wishes, David

Author's Reply:
David, Thank you for reading and commenting! That's very interesting... will know more about paraprosdokians. These couplets are just reminders, not so subtle I agree. While the other series, which I called as Doha, was on thought-process, this one is on feelings. I will look forward to reading your couplets. Yours, Supratik


Endless (posted on: 27-10-14)
The endlessness is a discovery in itself.

The moon is not able to control Its own overflowing light, In shame or delight, it hides behind A vagabond cloud From inside, it sees its light! Down there, Travellers move from place to place. The journey rejuvenates the luminous energy, Overpowers the source, From where it came; They reach a point, not an end, That becomes the course.
Archived comments for Endless
Kipper on 27-10-2014
Endless
Hi Supratik
This is very intriguing. I enjoyed reading this poem (quite a few times in fact) and feel that I want to get into it, to fully understand - but I can't find the door. A secret door perhaps?
Michael

Author's Reply:
Michael! Thank you for reading and commenting! If you have enjoyed reading, that should be enough, trust me! However, if you want to know the meaning, it talks about the relationship between the creator and the creation. Not saying its creation here for a reason. 'Down there' is sort of talking about us, where it is a little opposite; the creator is always proud of its creation. Let me deviate and confuse you a little more (look how presumptuous I can be!), our scientists and intelligent people are so busy studying the extra terrestrial, the grammar, the reasons are so clear to them, but one emotional factor, the essence, we cannot understand, that there is no conflict in the outer world! Now, creator there doesn't even know what it is creating, down here, oh! how proud we are... only the human species is an exception, any other part of nature creates ceaselessly and unconsciously, then why does the poem talk about the journey! Guess!
I am so thankful Michael that you have taken so much interest in the poem. Tell me when, when can a poet, of whatever kind and degree be unconscious of what it creates, tell me when can we un-proud ourselves of our creation, and tell me when can we really really understand that any conflict we create in this world is unnatural; understanding the outer world doesn't mean we go there and hoist our flag, or does it...I wonder! Endless, endless...truly...Best. Supratik

Kipper on 27-10-2014
Endless
Hi Supratik


Well I asked for that didn't I?


But in truth I found your explanation quite fascinating (as apposed to quite interesting) and while some aspects of it will require further consideration I found a degree of mutuality in our thinking.


Perhaps the link between creator and creation was disguised a little too well in your poem but the use of the moon image enables us to make the link to 'creation' in it's widest sense.


Now I suspect other readers may think we have taken the theme of 'Endless' a little too far, perhaps?


Best wishes Michael

Author's Reply:
Ha ha ha!!! You bet!

stormwolf on 30-10-2014
Endless
You are a deep thinker Supratik.
I really liked the lines

Down there
Travellers move from place to place

As a life-long moon watcher and lunatic haha...I could see this very clearly from the perspective you were promoting...that of this magnificent celestial orb half way between heaven and earth ...both giving and receiving. I see her that way too.

Alison xx

Author's Reply:
It is often said that listeners make speakers and readers poets. It is all the more rewarding if readers are also writers. Both Michael and you prove this so wonderfully. Yes you have handpicked 'the' lines! Thank you so much Alison! Respects. Supratik

Bozzz on 31-10-2014
Endless
I had never thought of the moon as being introspective, though its watchers may be. Sadly many see it as a potential colony for mankind and plant the flags of lunacy. To get inside its brain - if there be one - better you than me for you are the philosopher and can guide it to friendly emotions towards it parent. The text flows elegantly and the meaning stays deep. Yours, David.


Author's Reply:
Thank you David! You have said everything that the poem wanted to say! Who is you! Is it an indefinite pronoun or is it addressed to me! I have to be blunt enough to thank you for that...but yes, blunt I am ...no problem...and thanks you liked the flow! Yours, Supratik


Imperfection (posted on: 20-10-14)
everything comes with a price-tag; however how clever is it to canonise everything

True, some images are in the middle of a blue Nothing might sell as a colourful bluff But the shades of sadness lie in the moist canvas anew Imperfection buys the right to laugh
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DOHA (posted on: 20-10-14)
Doha [normally in Hindi and Urdu], is a couplet with 24 instants (Matras) [13+11]. The rules for distinguishing light and heavy syllables are different in Sanskrit; In the Doha [English] I am trying to write, more than the rules, the message is important; couplet form is the only rule followed here. This is because, I am not a man of strict rules, I like rules when they function as banks of a river to mobilise its flow, nothing more and nothing less. Anybody can come and join in the river of Doha!

State of work Everyone is working, laughing, playing Boss, not proud, but worried about the job Voice Whenever the energy bundle's voice rings It sounds like a child, always, why Yes, you are right God is angry, revengeful; up in his arms to see you unsuccessful Oh! Let me drink my coffee! Please? Success We are successful. Wars belong to the museums now. Borders are protected [from] by the neighbours. in the original text, I managed a strike-through in the word 'from'looking as a fence, couldn't do it here, so I bordered that in parentheses. Personal I kiss my lady. Onlookers pelt stones. I burn her to death. Onlookers smell a personal choice.
Archived comments for DOHA
Bozzz on 20-10-2014
DOHA
Thought for a moment I was in a near slave labour factory making clothes for UK high street shops, but the poor stoned lady upset that thought. Missed that connection. Interesting because it gives guidance to meaning, but this thicko did not get it all ! Cheers friend.... David

Author's Reply:
David, thank you for reading and commenting! This is what you sometimes get as a shock for being inclusive. We speak the same language, but we do not have the same historicity. However, it is one world we live in. Doha, poems in couplets, was popularised by Kabir, a spiritual leader, who didn’t even know if he was leading or following. Men and women as we are, there was a dispute on whether he was a muslim or a hindu, but that is not the point here. So let’s focus on the couplets.
Please see the couplets in isolation. They are separate dohas; they come under the same heading because they have one thing in common; thoughts, how we think. They are sub-sets of the super-set!
It is quite obvious that you got confused with the stoned lady, as you don’t get to see/hear this, unless you switched on to some specific channels, and why would you even want to do that, for heaven’s sake... for all you know, the soul in me is thinking of a strategy so in its next life it gets into an English tummy!!! Out here, when I kiss someone in the open, it is considered obscene, but when I kill someone in the open, it is considered personal. There are husbands who have the right to do so in broad daylight. This doha 'Personal' is inspired by John Lennon’s thought on violence; that we have to hide when we make love, but violence is practised in broad daylight. And I guess when he wrote it, he would have taken his country into consideration as well! So you see, when violence and love are considered as two variables, there is not much of a difference between various parts of the world! Remember the moment when Joan of Arc was burnt to death under the behest of you-know-who. These Voldemorts, years later, some 300 odd, had beatified her as a saint, what have you! So the age-old story is re-told to help us think as to how really we are growing, or developing. Our intelligence is busy with the outer world, while in this world... that Intelligence needs to be channelled much more, where ‘santolan’ (balance) should be the only measure for growth and development. More than wealth, we need to re-define success, the doha on success talks about that. Now you could discard this as something romantic, or a bin-worthy too-good-to-be-true thing; but hey it is not, here’s how our intelligence can really help; into thinking how we can bring back the equilibrium; peace needs to be treated as a deliverable, not as a spiritual nothing; intelligence that’s taking us places, can help us see there is zero tension in the borders; are we willing to come up with a robust strategy to ensure this?
The doha on status of work is more on superfluous tension we choose to buy at heavy price.
I am not sure if I confused or clarified. Yours...Supratik

Bonnie on 20-10-2014
DOHA
This is an interesting poetic form, and I hadn't heard of it before. Thank you for introducing me!


Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting...I am so glad you liked it. Best. Supratik

Gothicman on 22-10-2014
DOHA
Yes, an interesting poetry form, Supratik, and good to get the full explanation in your replies. I read it the same as David at first, as on this site one has a natural tendency to both read something topical or well-known into the added meanings, but also to connect them to form some type of contextual whole, especially if included together in a piece. Although appearing cryptic, which normally would allow for different interpretations, here, being strongly culturally conditioned doesn't seem to allow personal takes on things. To get your original intentions, it needs long break-down explanations either placed after or before, which is not very satisfying for you or the reader? Thanks for teaching a little about Doha couplets though...Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor, Thank you for taking the time to read and then comment. It is always satisfying for me to clarify, I do not know about the reader. The form might be new, but not the content, I hope so. These days, very short poems are kind of taking over, e.g. haiku, senryu, tanka are all Japanese forms that are catching up more and more. Irrespective of any site, one needs to open to newer forms as well as traditional forms of poetry. As a matter of fact, no explanation is required because all these couplets are open to interpretations. Good to know you liked the form. Cheers! Supratik


sky (posted on: 17-10-14)
nothingness

I must have a place. Somewhere! For here, I have lost the sky. Doors shut. Windows closed. I am not looking for light. The indomitable, unstoppable Light Effortlessly pierces through the holes, Like water I stop my breath. Yet through other holes life enters. In these little streaks of leftovers, Water that I cannot see, but hear Moon is dead, Sun dying Air floating, Light is not enough to form my shadow. I had a table where I read and wrote, It has gone into the woods. I am in a room, with no ceiling Without a floor, with colourless air That I figure as my sky.
Archived comments for sky
Bozzz on 18-10-2014
sky
Oh Supratik, you must be a fellow vacuum physicist. Yours in awe, David

Author's Reply:
You bet! Thanks much David for taking the time to read and commenting! Best. Supratik

stormwolf on 19-10-2014
sky
A very intricate depiction of a particular state of mind. Some great lines and deserves to be read many times.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Alison for reading and commenting. I am glad you liked it. The poem is about coping mechanism, in the midst of acute depression. In fact, there is a feeling that depression itself is a coping mechanism. Strange, but true don't you think! When there is this light, air, water, the raw-materials of our existence, slipping away, because of your own situation, the coping mechanism does manage with the littlest of things available. If the table has gone into the woods, it could mean it has died and gone back to nature, it could also mean the table has gone into the woods intact, to re-create, and the table might just represent the writer as well! Among other things, it could also mean that the table is just re-thinking! 🙂 Respects. Supratik

stormwolf on 19-10-2014
sky
A very intricate depiction of a particular state of mind. Some great lines and deserves to be read many times.
Alison x

Author's Reply:


Pardon-garden (posted on: 17-10-14)
forgiveness is running the show

In the zone of icy thoughts, Gatecrashers trying to break the berg, In the game, they are swallowed in Like the quicksand. Mediocre thoughts of reactions, Dominate the insipid mind. Through the ages, Blindness looks at the white shivering mirror, How horrid that the word comes from the pen, Forgiveness! But yes, it is also forgiven, You are a thirteen-year old, Playing the role of a hero, Without your muscles of sadness; Flowers and fruits are hatching in the space, Birds and bees are preparing to play, Audience is horrified to see you kiss A lady's fun-balls, So inappropriately out of place. But like the spectators, Swallow the word, And the frozen waters, as you break open the gate. You will also find your way Into the overwhelming pardon-garden!
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I am his pet (posted on: 10-10-14)
This was long overdue. A lab born and raised in India. How far can he go in his etiquette, but in love he is not behind! 🙂

Come! Bring the leash, quick! Handle it properly I am taking you out! Sorry? Who's taking whom! That's for the world to know, huh? I really pity you, With all the running around, You have to do! Look! You told me not to pee here! You will scream now, there you go!!! Simba! Simba! Not here! You! Please don't embarrass me! And then To creatures like you, Sorry! Extremely sorry for this! Of all the fun I have, this I never miss! To you I have nothing to say, With our foreheads kissing, you'd say! And then, to the muck, to the drains So much work to do, can't you see!! Dusts waiting to be kicked, All other poop talking to me, staring to be licked, No Simba! No, don't, this I told you not to do Oho ho, you think I have this tongue only for you? One hour!! Just for one hour let me be free My tongue is tired of chapatti and pedigree I litter, you clean the dirt You wait patiently when with friends I flirt I poop, you flush From you, I have a lovely wash I puke, on the couch, in the bed, and you clean I growl at you, bite you, but you say nothing? You never take me to a show to win a prize for fun You know I'd fail for I limp when I run! You couldn't train me for nuts I know that hey! With me you'd do nothing other than run and play! Are you consoling me because in life I always fail? You don't give a damn; huh you lick and wag your tail! 'Why do you not judge, love me no matter what, There's no one like you' here I borrow your words. Now enough of brooding get up and start your day I'd wait for you my pet, until you come and play!
Archived comments for I am his pet
Savvi on 11-10-2014
I am his pet
Pets ey, can't live with em can't live without em. I found myself smiling with many of these lines but my favorite is

'To you I have nothing to say,
With our foreheads kissing, you’d say!

I can really relate to this, thanks for the read best Keith

Author's Reply:
Keith, Wonderful to have your feedback on a poem which is so openly close to my heart! I am so happy you liked it! Best. Supratik


Oh mouse! (posted on: 10-10-14)
Oh mouse!

Mouse stopped working. Cursor is playing hide and seek Sad-happy thoughts roaring away In this game, the world stops. Page has a blank look.

Archived comments for Oh mouse!
Supratik on 10-10-2014
Oh mouse!

I dedicate this to Trevor who may tell me, if the form is somewhat looking like a mouse!

Author's Reply:

Gothicman on 12-10-2014
Oh mouse!

Supratik, positon changes like centering and left-margining should not be used on titles and descriptions, only bold and italics can be used there (I usually do the description in italics). You should only use position changers for the main text. It creates all sorts of problems for the front page list of poems and stops linking direct to the work in "just published. You can go in the work and start the centering from the text to resolve this problem. Not sure if this represents a mouse, looks more like the mouse's or pilgrim's drinking bowl, too regular (perhaps the middle line extended to create snout and tail like "< Sad-happy thoughts roaring away..................". I'm not sure in the world of mice and men, I'd be considered a mouse who roared ......those indoctrinated with rapturous thoughts are usually not going to get on with me, that's true! Hahahaha! Good try...but, can do better!...Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor! Thank you! Will take care of the title! Thank you for reading and commenting! 🙂 Supratik

Bozzz on 16-10-2014
Oh mouse!
Cheese in a trap is the usual remedy for missing mice. But if it is a field mouse than corn is better. Avoid sweet talk.
Hard luck....David

Author's Reply:
David, thanks for reading and commenting.
Ha ha ha!!! I could see a desperate attempt!!! Well tried. Good luck! Supratik


Between Vagueness and Precision (posted on: 06-10-14)
In the clouds of endless affection.

Vagueness Vagueness! Come, come unto me! For I differ loud and clear in what I hear and see! Oh Intelligence You have gone to the Stars, you sure need a clap! Your Intelligence doesn't see the silent Power trap! This world needs you most, your wit and acumen, Hundreds of crises for its men and women! The giving High-rise says to sunrise, you have to have some sense, You need to shine more to those who deserve the most, Sunrise says to High-rise, no harm, no offence, Giving are those stars that do not judge and boast. Respect This year again, you paid respect to me. I saw you through your pride that kept me way too far. I am just as you, can't you at all see? Drop your pride in days, you'll be my star! Work like me in you, till the year that comes in next, Through action and your deed, I need your love, respect. Disrespect This year again, you burnt me down as sin, For years you're doing the same! I wonder what you do in between! That I re-appear in the flame? Revolt Revolt! I have lost interest in you. With no anger, you bid me adieu! Now I am new and strong. I never knew I could heal the scars within, resting but a few! Precision Precision! Go, go away! For I unite in the haze, in the roles I play
Archived comments for Between Vagueness and Precision
Gothicman on 07-10-2014
Between Vagueness and Precision
A well-written and interesting piece, Supratik, and I particularly like the opening and closing couplets. It might work better without the sub-headings, as the subject matter for each stanza comes over clearly in the text. I would prefer these headings left out, but I know you like opinions being given, but never act on them, as you prefer to maintain originality as just your creation. An enjoyable read.....Gothicman (Is Supratik your real name or a user-name?)

Author's Reply:
Gothicman!! Thank you! I cannot tell you how much I laughed at your pointing out my drawback so affectionately; yes I never act on the changes suggested. I am just taking time, please stay-put. I have accepted one change suggested by Alison. I really congratulated myself on that. Some day maybe! As of now, let me justify why this cannot be done. I went through several options, eight on naming the poem, which is the super-set. Between Vagueness and Precision's greatest contender was Some poems in between vagueness and precision. Each poem, including the opening and closing ones has an entity of their own, can be read and understood in isolation. However, they are enriched (or so I think, ha ha) when they come in contact with others because they can also be linked. It's like naming each city, and also the country, naming each street and also the city, naming each house and also the street. What the poems are talking about is breaking away from fix mindsets, but without causing disequilibrium, disharmony, staying within the boundaries, norms, and yet talking about the worthlessness of thinking of thoughts that are there since you-know-when. Interestingly, names are important, Supratik is my real name. I am from Bengal, and we have two names, one is a pet name which grows up at home, with parents and relatives, and the other is for the world outside. My pet name is Unto, previously written as Anto, a short form of Antony (there was a very famous film called Antony firangi, firangi means saheb, a Brit; the film was a super-hit when I was born, so my mom would call me Anto, a short form of Antony; later I changed it into Unto, told her either you tell me Antony, or accept me as Unto, because Anto doesn't have a meaning; however, my relatives still write Anto, much to my chagrin!). Look at me, going on and on; please let me know more about you.
I am so glad that you liked the poem(s).

Gothicman on 07-10-2014
Between Vagueness and Precision
I'm sorry I said anything now! You're almost worse than me with the generosity of your answers Hahahaja! No, only joking. (Okej, perhaps then you could have these subheadings all in lower case and in italics, and without the space down to the text? Vagueness and Precision could be left as they are?) I asked about your signature because I usually answer comments using real names with my real name, and user names with my user name, it seems only polite. I remain anonymous otherwise as I'm a marked man, waiting for the sharp umbrella jab, or the two on a Lambretta alongside, but they'd better be good, for I'm ready for them! Hahahaha! Yes, Supratik, I liked this collection of linked, stand alone poems.....Trevor

Author's Reply:
Trevor! I absolutely like the italics part. I tried doing this immediately, but it didn't work. If you could tell me how I should get those tilted! I spent hours with it, and it didn't come to me! O yes Trevor, I could be worse or as bad!!! Thank you once again. I have incorporated that in my blog, but couldn't do it here. If you could please help me close this. Supratik

stormwolf on 07-10-2014
Between Vagueness and Precision
Well dear Supratik,
You have spoiled me for the interpretation haha. I can cheat now. I see you put so much thought into your work and that's a great thing IMHO.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Then I will also have to reveal a lot on that Alison! Voler in French, is to cheat and to fly!
Cheers!

Gothicman on 08-10-2014
Between Vagueness and Precision
Okej, Supratik, this is how you do Italics and get a
Left Margin


or
Centered Work
like this

which makes everything look so much better!


When giving commands here, they start with a < and end with a >.
To stop a command you place a / after the < of the second, or final command.
I cannot write the command as it should be written exactly here, otherwise it just obeys the command and leaves the instructions as it does it.
So I have to add "thens" and "spaces" between the command elements so you see what's needed.
When you apply these commands yourself on your work, you simply use the command elements as given leaving out the "thens" and ""followed by" and "finish with" and "spaces" etc. etc.
Here is the command for italics:
First command at beginning of the work or word:
One of these < then lowercase i the finish with one of these >
To end the command at the end of the work or word:
One of these < then one of these / then lower case i then finish with a >
(Small case i stands for italics)
To center your work, as above but use center instead of the i.
To get a left margin:
At the beginning of your work:
One of these < followed by BLOCKQUOTE in capitals then one of these >
To end Left Margin at the end of your work including signature if used:
One of these < followed by one of these / then BLOCKQUOTE and then a >
Don't include the instruction words given here only < and > and the command i.e. BLOCKQUOTE and the forward slash /

You can use this on old work already submitted on your accounts page by clicking on "Edit" and then applying them in the edit box where the writing is, and by doing so won't affect the comments already made.
If it doesn't work as intended or you will change anything just go in the piece via "Edit" and do the adjustments.
(Just the BLOCKQUOTE to get left margin is in Capitals)
I hope this helps. If in doubt you can practice with a new submission, which you can always delete and try again until right. As always, once you've done it a few times it becomes easy.
Hope this helps....Trevor

Author's Reply:
Thank you so very much Trevor! It looks so much better now! Thanks for the suggestion and then the learning! Supratik

Bozzz on 09-10-2014
Between Vagueness and Precision
I found this both delightful in both the idea and execution - a format for all poets to fulfil on entry to our world. Bravo...David

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much David for reading and commenting! I am glad you liked it. Coming from an expert poet like you, this Bravo means a lot to me. Best. Supratik


In an attempt (posted on: 03-10-14)
"Let's start at the very beginning, a very nice place to start!"

Alice and John Yes papa! Eating sugar? No papa! Have these apples Yes papa! Love you children Ha! ha! ha! [I wonder on the need to teach children lie [being smart] to their parents!] Humpty dumpty sat on a chair, Humpty dumpty sang with love and care. All the king's forces all the king's men, Learned to sing with him over and again!! [Children laugh at the fall of Humpty dumpty and also at the fact that he couldn't be put together againwhy!] Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water, Jack came down when he was done And Jill came dancing after. With them they bring a bird that sings, It fell off from a tree, They cared for it to cure its wings, Until it flew, was free. [Is it fair to expect children not to laugh at other's miseries if they are taught to enjoy Jack's breaking his crown, and Jill's tumbling after!]. While I respect the popularity of these rhymes, I have questions on their relevance in times where there is no dearth of torture. Children are disproportionately exposed to a lot of violence and chicaneries. I feel it is necessary to re-tell these otherwise beautiful nursery rhymes in a constructive way. This is just a modest step.
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Yellow sun in the blue (posted on: 26-09-14)
Yellow sun in the blue

Yellow sun in the blue sea Green trees on the meadows, Without images in the sky! Are these good enough reasons? For a text to begin! Tune is locked up in the shelf Beautiful picture dates with the livid word, Crazy colour falls on a blank face and flirts, Both focused more or less on the alternative. Someone, from perhaps a corner of a dais hears. Something resembling a voice, or just gibberish Heard,unclear, yet drumming some sense A moaning that could have some meaning of pretense. Who'll go in search for the magic to work? For words to come to terms with the real avid self Untouched, uncontaminated, What could have been different? In other words, sounds as windy, breezy, and vague Nothing is the same. Let it go back Yellow sun in the blue sky Green trees on the meadows, Nothing remains the same.
Archived comments for Yellow sun in the blue
stormwolf on 05-10-2014
Yellow sun in the blue
Hi there,
You are asking questions here.I am not sure I am getting it correctly but for me comes over as the stimulation to write or see meaning in the mundane

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison for taking the time to read and commenting. Yes, you could say that. Writing could just be a metaphor. The action is more towards understanding. There is also a sudden 'refus' towards the fact that if the sky doesn't reflect the world, why should the world reflect it?! That's why in the last stanza the world gives back the image to the sky, it does not will to be a mere reflection. The poem also says, in the middle, where the climax is built, how we understand mysteries and wonders through sounds that may not be clear and precise. The deepest of understanding often comes from a sort of vagueness, like here nothing is the same (affirmative and negative). The poem settles therefore with the sun in the blue, whether in the sky or in the sea, peu importe! Supratik


I have something to say (posted on: 26-09-14)
pointless

Days that have left long ago, Come back as waves, and wet my feet. Don't leave us, is what I hear from them, I have a cave of thoughts, On the beach; I throw them onto the sea, Off and on; They come back with the same tune, As habits of moments, Pleading and lamenting, I see them as sands. They were rocks of the yore. I get onto my boat. Wear the mask to breathe and take a deep dive, The rock starts dropping down and down I am deep inside, Hear no noise now Fellow creatures floating; Deeper I dive Farther I move from the noisy surface. There is silence Absolute, immeasurable in time and days I have come to the bed now And in this liquid stability, I see me settling down I see my home, like my mom's womb, From where I came when the waters broke, Though I wonder on the need, Moments pass, in floating admiration. Time to return now, like the waves on the shore I move up, and up, and up I get onto the boat and see the land afar. I have something to say to those pleading days, I take off my mask to breathe again.
Archived comments for I have something to say
stormwolf on 26-09-2014
I have something to say
Hello Supratik
I thought this was a beautiful poem. To me it spoke of experiences in meditation...or maybe life?
For there comes a time for all of us when we need to leave the comfort and safety of the boat and dive deep.
I really resonated with the whole analogy of the whispering waves and the cave of thoughts.
The feeling as the diver descended deeper and deeper still, was to me at least one of bliss.
The poem speaks of diving so deep as to be almost in a primordial state of awareness....basking in the love and acceptance of the universal mother, then, knowing one cannot tarry in such a place while being in the physical...so the choice is to return but this time with the wisdom and knowledge..the 'pearl in the oyster' so to speak.
You have now indeed 'something to say to those pleading days'

Lovely poem. One I can totally relate to and so into favs for me.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Thank you! I am speechless at the way you behold the poem. Yes it is meditation in medias res, in the midst of life. Normally the transcendence comes when you feel lighter and move up, against gravity. Here tried to do the opposite. "The poem speaks of diving so deep as to be almost in a primordial state of awareness....basking in the love and acceptance of the universal mother, then, knowing one cannot tarry in such a place while being in the physical...so the choice is to return but this time with the wisdom and knowledge..the 'pearl in the oyster' so to speak." This says everything about the poem.
Thank you for keeping this in your favs.

Supratik


Laughing gun (posted on: 19-09-14)
The world is in need of thinking differently. It needs drama of the highest order, not a melodrama. If you find some holes in the poem, take those as shots from the laughing gun.

This scientist you see Almost got a Nobel Prize She invented a laughing gun for free Took everyone by surprise... Carrying, she claims if you shoot the gun Everyone will laugh, love and only have fun She asks us to try, in neighbouring countries of the world, She is sure the gun, with an angry mob, would work. It has to be first approved by all clever men What a silly gun this is, before our wit and acumen! Counter-attacked the wise, try it must we should Let us see her craft if it's of any good. If so much was invested inventing tear gun That had over the years, made people flee and cry. Why don't we give this d*mn just a little try? Okayed was it for some willy-nilly fun. There's running there a bitter angry mob She shot just once, that crafty little knob. Grounded and stunned to see what they saw It turned into a stage with everyone in awe! Their anger ran away they were laughing all in one The silenced audience saw the drama with the gun. All were shaking hands, the mob and the cop Happy were they all from the bottom to the top. Days passed. The lab where she invented the gun? No trace. No mark. All over, all were done. She was tried in court as the story goes. Fled and went on the run. Her tears kept rolling on and on, without a tear gun. Hush! She's now not alone, is with her little child Trying laugh guns in the wind; are out in the wild.
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Death of an artist (posted on: 19-09-14)
death of an artist

Eyes and ears busy Writing scripts, Stories of delusion Taking the artist away from the creative space There's this freshness of time, In a splash No clue, none at all of the text Peeking at times at the slightest pretext The stage, placed inside Lost in rattling dialogues, Like old beginners, singing in pain, With disengaged organs
Archived comments for Death of an artist
stormwolf on 26-09-2014
Death of an artist
Hi Supratik
I caught the feeling of feverish activity...then this "freshness of time, in a splash" such an original expression and so true.
I would ditch the exclamation mark at the end of the final line.
I used to use them all over my work, willy-nilly but found that the non-use can actually add more intensity to the meaning, almost a paradox I know.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison! Yes the ditch makes absolute sense here! I have never ended any poem without a punctuation; but I do think this poem is a good place to start and I am proud it happened because of your suggestion. Thank you a myriad times for liking the poem, and for taking that line out!

Supratik


Defeat (posted on: 15-09-14)
It's about a defeat.

My life is dead; dull, dim monotonous in its repetition. Every minute and hour spent, to second without option. From the time I wake up to the time I sleep, Rigorous, onerous routine takes me on its grip. I talk and walk, eat and greet, work and rarely play, Sameness orders justice, to an object of clay. I see me dead, sung and read in what I do repeat Life like this is meaningless, with so much of defeat. I look outside without a pride to find a falling deed, Seed which made the leaf in time, to free it back as seed! Days and nights, weeks and years, seasons come and go, Flowers and fruits grow the roots without feeling low! I came to me and looked within and heavens what I found, Organs singing do, re, me without a single sound! The voice in me now starts to live, with an aware defeat, Life's alive out in the air because I repeat.
Archived comments for Defeat
Bozzz on 16-09-2014
Defeat
If liked this clever poem for its realism and truth to lives of many. But surely disappointment is not always defeat - many times it is the spur to try something else. "Organs sounding do re me without a sound" - brilliant, loved that....David

Author's Reply:

Bozzz on 16-09-2014
Defeat
I liked this clever poem for its realism and truth to lives of many. But surely disappointment is not always defeat - many times it is the spur to try something else. "Organs sounding do re me without a sound" - brilliant, loved that....David

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much David for reading and commenting so correctly, as it were. Yes indeed, defeat, which is the central theme here, is not that of disappointment, but to look at the same things, outside and inside of us, in a different perspective....Supratik

ifyouplease on 18-09-2014
Defeat
defeating and being defeated by the same external and internal things (pragmata the Greek word) - what we experience is the living death of the ego which will wish to repeat his/her vita and we should not allow that to happen again. life is elsewhere.

clever poem.

Author's Reply:
I apologise for this inordinate delay in replying to your very apt response. Was away attending a poetry festival. I am glad that you ike the poem Nik. ...Supratik


A union (posted on: 15-09-14)
Let them unite

Your hands, a hanging necklace, Surround me Your face a pendant; You are raining smiles from the earth, My sky now green, quenched, a tad thirsty still, Your self has gone into mine, We are drowned in us. Horizon has given up on stretching A flower is blooming on the leaf, A handful of fragrance, its only existence A dollop of air, like a forest Is playing in between! My head and my hands Now your garland! Breaths outside, Gliding a merry-go-round Tickling the throats, A wish bounces from us, From the mountain of moments That showers the blue Until eternity! Let the earth sleep with the sky.
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Lure failure (posted on: 15-09-14)
Failure a frequenter... but so what?

I have failed in many of my tries Hope is a burnt toast, faith here dries. Suddenly O suddenly I see a seed sown I cover, uncover, recover - to discover my own. Failures have failed to keep me mighty low I gained again the energy, the journey starts to glow.
Archived comments for Lure failure
sweetwater on 15-09-2014
Lure failure
Lovely, uplifting and inspiring, all posted in a tightly packaged parcel 🙂 Sue x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Sue for reading and commenting...I am so glad you liked it! Supratik

Pilgermann on 17-09-2014
Lure failure
This is a fine poem. Just one slight observation: if you omitted "mighty" the stress then falls on "low" and the reader pauses to take that in. Just a suggestion.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. Your suggestion is excellent to keep a hollowness (a gap) in between...I tried doing that but it's falling out of rhythm. Besides I think the epithet mighty is creating a drama by magnifying the abyss which the reader might consider.

ifyouplease on 18-09-2014
Lure failure
reminded me of this very nice video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvvGvdAOzI0
hope you like it too.
uplifting indeed.

Author's Reply:


You in I (posted on: 08-09-14)
rhythm... syncopated at times; thoughts... hmm let me learn from the readers...

You got me an elephant when I wanted a horse. You took me to Paris when I was to be in Corse. You drew me a picture I never wanted to see, You left me in those chains when I wanted to be free! I wanted a dip, so dear and clear, you never gave it to me, The swimming game is sailing away in the ocean of sea. When peace is what I want in here, why do you show me war? Is it true I hid from you my treasured little scar? Who is you and who is I O heavens tell me please, All I want is be with you in a friendly ease! The gap is there perhaps to show that listen has gone away, When you and I are in the noise the silence how would stay! Garbage of war in everywhere there's poison in the air. The horse gallops in land of Corse with sounds of peace so rare.
Archived comments for You in I
Pilgermann on 11-09-2014
You in I
The rhythm is broken in places such as this:
"The gap is there perhaps to show that listen has gone away,
When you and I are in the noise the silence how would stay!"

Its the use of language which is fragmented and the sequencing. Maybe that's how the intention was with you.

Author's Reply:
First of all, thank you for reading and commenting Pilgermann. Yes, you are right. The rhythm of life is fragmented, disconnected because of our inability to listen. I will reply in detail on this! Thanks much!

This is the explanation of the content.
There's this garbage that the poem wants to clear....the war that we see outside happens because of the uncontrolled war refusing to leave from the inside. War seems to be our only raison d’être! It starts at an early age and stays like a faithful friend throughout an individual’s life.
The first three stanzas talk about objects, images and actions respectively. While the second couplet talks about an image which is not to one's liking, the third talks about engaging in an action (shallowness here), which is definitely not what the person in question wants. Every time, we are condemned into getting something else!
Elephant and horse are objects symbolizing war, one in the east and the other in the west. Strange as it might sound, but there is no animosity between an elephant and a horse; like there is no animosity between Paris and Corse; like the animals co-exist in the same forest, the places are also parts of a same country. If we look at it as a metaphor ‘transfer of image’, we could understand how futile and unnatural war is, something that we fondly compare with love (remember Aphrodite, the Goddess of love falling in love with Ares, the god of war!), and also refer to it as a historic and a trans-historic reality!
From the fourth stanza, the realization comes and ends with an understanding that can be interpreted in more than one ways. I leave it open.
However, I cannot resist saying that the poem uses horse as an object of peace. I had difficulty in picking up these two objects that are ingrained in our belief system as objects of war; but I discovered that the difficulty was because every time I was imagining a horse, it was always with someone riding on it, either a warrior, or a jockey. Then there was this turmoil, a tug of war where the horse won on sympathetic grounds and the warrior lost! I was angry with the warrior! At the third stage, when I was able to look at both as victims of circumstances, that I was able to dissociate one from the other, and the poem liberated both of them as winners. I could imagine the horse galloping with its mane dancing in the victory, his eyes not straightened. I imagined the sound of the gallop; it was different, because he was not wearing his shoes! There is no poison in the air, it is only in the thought.
The name You in I might also sound as You and I.


Inviting metanoia (posted on: 08-09-14)
Metanoia means a change in our mental model - a shift in the way we think.

Inviting metanoia Disgusted with the world; What intelligence cannot turn the salty water sweet? The liquid crisis will melt at ease. Agonies of salt occupy the disbelief of sweetness. No, say those prophets, please do not respect us And keep us grounded in those walls, Worship and chain those you replicate and emulate. Wars in to time will cease. Weapons scared of betraying bitterness. Ah! How horrible those excess of food fed in the oceans, Our guts do not put them into the mouths starving. Hungers will freeze. Poverty insists on feeding pockets of darkness. I wish I had a lab where I'd invent air, water, light, A meaningful machine that'd turn war into peace; Would I be called intelligent if I didn't enter into a fight? Would the world cure with a whole lot of bliss!
Archived comments for Inviting metanoia
Supratik on 12-09-2014
Inviting metanoia
From the number of hits, and one comment posted and then deleted, I think I was late in coming back with an explanation. While I apologise for this inordinate delay, I must also quickly add that perhaps bad poems need explanations!

The first stanza talks about doing something that we are yet to try, or to re-try what we’d been trying to do! It makes business sense to do that. I am stunned to discover that the earth which is floating in two-third of water has water crisis. This explains why we see scarcity all the time. This scarcity’s brainchild is insecurity, mistrust, and the famous win-lose model with which we have trained our brains.

And I am at a loss in trying to explain the second stanza! Throughout history, we have seen that those who are respected and worshipped are kept inside boundaries, either in churches, or in temples, or in synagogues. The moment a person is beatified, we tell ourselves, hey look, from this day we are going to keep you at a distance, so much far that you will be beyond reach. ‘Hate the sin, not the sinner’ O Jesus, that’s not applicable! On the contrary, if you are disrespected, you will be replicated. We do know what happened with Poland in the Second World War, don’t we? Brilliant concept! Now this has been emulated in many wars that were to follow post Hitler. We emulate Hitler, but we don’t emulate Jesus and other prophets from around the world. The poem wishes that the prophets be a little disrespected to come closer to us, so we do not chain them with garlands and other ingredients they never longed for.

The third stanza is a repetition of the first with another example to show how we are bound by our own processes.

The poem tries to summarise the thought in the last stanza.



Author's Reply:

ParsonThru on 12-09-2014
Inviting metanoia
I like at least one of the sentiments shown in this piece Supratik (give me time, I'm slow). At least I'm in good company (second stanza). My approach is to write what comes and let the reader work out what it means for them. Maybe if it becomes a science it ceases to be as spiritually satisfying. Just my view and, hey, what's that worth anywhere? Enjoyed reading your poem.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes I agree!!! Glad you enjoyed reading!

Gothicman on 13-09-2014
Inviting metanoia
Hello Supratik, yes, I left some comments then binned them as I felt my own views on religion that I read into your work had already been adequately explained and addressed earlier, especially the part where those most already indoctrinated would offer the most resistance to neutralized secular thinking. Unlike ParsonThru, I think that science can be based on or written about with enormous sensuality and spiritual feeling, more in fact than belief-based spiritual creations. But that it preferably should be explained to some extent during presentation as info, or when explaining inspirational sources beforehand. I think any poems concerned with mental health should be concluded with clearly explained intended messaging and meaning as they can have quite strong influences and negative emotional consequences for some if misunderstood. But, with established religion having been around since time immemorial, I myself have little interest in reading any more about it, especially when extremely cryptic and/or in its defense, that's why I binned my comments, to avoid meaningless discussion ad nauseam. I hope binning them didn't come over as disrespectful. Gothicman

Author's Reply:
I will start from the end Gothicman! No, it did not come over as disrespectful. I hope you would have understood that I am, like most of you, into extreme poésie, where poem is used as an instrument to bring in consciousness into the very thinking process. I wonder if this will ever come about by criticising, or by blaming any object, situation, person, community, or a country. So, there is nothing 'anti-religion' as such. If poems are supposedly the produce of the poet, then I, as a poet, of whatever kind and degree, cannot and will not reflect on anything that is 'anti' per se. I will like to go the church and the mosque and try and remind things, if at all. Religion, discipline, ritualisation also have things that are worth the try. However, when a disciple goes and prays before Jesus, does he ever think of following him? In the real sense of the term! As a matter of fact, I have records of seeing people fighting with the cross, imagine! It's like hitting someone with the cross! And this has happened over religion, you know! My second stanza is a reminder of a model, which is respect v. application/emulation. Yes, I agree that 'science can be based on or written about with enormous sensuality and spiritual feeling, more in fact than belief-based spiritual creations'!
Thank you very much.


A tableau in the making (posted on: 05-09-14)
of this and that in the game of things, between lovers of a kind

A tableau in the making Look at my palm, Solid as a rock, Your softness placed over it, My world; you are leaning on my fingers. The parts of your back stuck in between them, You turn right and look down at me. Smiling, no stress; As if you a feather I'd need soon to pen or fly! But genuflecting, you turn around and look at me, Now holding my fingers as your new-found window I ask you your eyes, those unmistakably yours, What is it that you don't believe! Your lightness or my strength! Watch me write now, On what! You wonder. About you or me! Pause. I could be writing about us!
Archived comments for A tableau in the making
ifyouplease on 05-09-2014
A tableau in the making
a protean poem, very nice

Author's Reply:
Thank you Nik!

stormwolf on 07-09-2014
A tableau in the making
I am not sure why but your poetry always makes me smile. It's more an intuition than being able to express freely but you have a poetic soul that comes across in all your work. Writing in another language ( for you) is not only very clever but gives a sing song quality to it. 😉
Alison x

Author's Reply:
I am so touched to read your comment Alison! Thank you! I am just trying to be somewhere I think I belong. I begin to gather confidence, on reading comments like these, that maybe I also have a place. I have grown up with sounds of literature that came mainly, a whole chunk of it, from the western world, and if anyone spoke or wrote with improper language, like Professor Higgins, I thought they were a disgrace to Milton and Shakespeare, ha ha!! I am so glad you like my poems as from yours I learn.

Bozzz on 14-09-2014
A tableau in the making
To me, this poem is like a weeping willow tree that lives off the river water but is bending as though it would like to be swept away within it. Tempting providence. Enjoyed....David

Author's Reply:
Thank you David for reading and commenting. Glad you enjoyed! Supratik


In love (posted on: 01-09-14)
love is the only source

When it was dark, Crickets were playing with the fireflies, Birds nestled in the trees, Silver rivulets were flowing through the black meadows, Floating a hello, a big one, a hello, to my arteries and veins; A wind inside took birth and gushed out Through my mouth, extending my lips to my ears, And stayed in that obstinate state... Amidst all of those silent movements light and sound, I fell in love! The known moon seemed new to me. In the stars I never saw, In the spread of flowers that never appeared so visible, My hands are confused Between choices of a ring or a pendant, With jewels that are hanging up, With the fragrance that is spreading around, Which one to pick for what! I am waiting for her to wake up to a new light, For now, let me slip into a new dream.
Archived comments for In love
ifyouplease on 01-09-2014
In love
i liked it very much!

Author's Reply:
Thank you for liking it! And thank you for selecting the poem as a favourite!! I just got a congratulations thanks to you. This is encouraging indeed!

Pilgermann on 04-09-2014
In love
Supratik, There is a very oriental - I was going to say Indian - feel to this poem. The images are those that I would associate with Hafiz and reminds me very much of his poetry. I like the image of the "obstinate state"; love should be so, holding itself up for all to savour.

Author's Reply:
Tell me about it!! Yes, it does have an oriental look! Didn't I go through several choices before placing that epithet! In the present age Pilgermann, what you miss out on is manuscripts. We have stopped using the pen, and the keyboard, with all its features and functions, does not allow us to preserve the making of the poem, don't you think!
Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
Warm regards,

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
In love
I like it too, though universal theme, touch of Eastern mystique feel to it. It may be a personal thing, but I prefer free verse to not have Capitals starting each line when not required, feels a bit archaic, and slightly reduces the flow, but only my opinion. Enjoyed the inherent passion and positive vital mood. ...Gothicman

Author's Reply:
Thank you Gothicman for your insight and input.


The guardian angel (posted on: 01-09-14)
guardian of parents, where both are metaphors... the greatest fallacy of history is that we never learn from it, we repeat... a mediocrity par excellence...this one's off the hook.. if you think so

I am the rainbow, Standing as a border in between The rain and the sun, Asking them to stop the fight! To clear their minds from the powerless thought, Of how violent can they get with their flood and their drought! As their child, I am here to tell the kids, Of how they have energized and enlightened the world, With their obscene opulence that only infinity can measure In its brooks and meadows and in most everywhere, As unmatched sources that have helped the world perfect, That unnoticed leaf without care. As a synergy I stand in between them Their emergent property, A colourful reminder, I tell my parents not to be delinquents. There! One power descends willingly from the seat, For the other to recover from the moment of defeat! I am the rainbow, Standing as a border in between The rain and the sun, Asking them to stop the fight!
Archived comments for The guardian angel
ifyouplease on 01-09-2014
The guardian angel
i especially liked this part

As a synergy I stand in between them
Their emergent property,
A colourful reminder,
I tell my parents not to be delinquents.

There! One power descends willingly from the seat,
For the other to recover from the moment of defeat!

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much for your encouragement. You have chosen the part where the poem talks about real power. You would have realised that the poem is trying to look at the rainbow in a new role. Thank you so very much!

ifyouplease on 01-09-2014
The guardian angel
actually i am not the rainbow type, on the contrary i am deeply suspicious of rainbows but your poem showed me that there is something seriously good about them.

Author's Reply:
Ha ha!! That's a good one!

Pilgermann on 02-09-2014
The guardian angel
Supratik, just trying to understand the use of words "obscene opulence". Seems out of place in the flow of the poem.

Author's Reply:
Hello Pilgermann! Thank you for reading and commenting. The adjective has a shocking connotation, especially in front of the created and 'human' poverty. Every cell of the world, if you observed, gives countless and limitless wealth for the inhabitants to satiate their need and greed...it does look obscenely plenty....here the word also means that which can not be counted, measured.
You cannot see me, but I am seeking your pardon holding my ears and genuflecting, so you allow me use the word!
Cheers!

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
The guardian angel
I like this Supratik (why did you choose that name?). The unadulterated child often has a more objective and balanced view of what is right and wrong, compared to parents at war with each other. Just one thing, you end this fine piece with too much explanation as you've explained it all in the first stanza. Better would be to incorporate the "rainbow" metaphor in the third verse: "As a rainbow, a synergy, I stand between them" etc. and delete the last stanza.( Or why not even "Like a bridging arc, a synergy, ..." to avoid repetition?) Good two line ending then as well. But, the last stanza needs to go. Excelleny poem, enjoyed ...Gothicman

Oh, I see you've repeated the first stanza, just deleting the last stanza would make it less precious.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. I like your point of view. Why did I choose that name? I had a list of names for this, some 6 of them. This topped because of a number of reasons. Guardian is the one who guards is just one of them, angel because it is a reminder of 'parikraman' [regression] instead of 'akraman' [agression or fight]. Plus there are other reasons. About rainbow being an unadulterated child is assumed by the reader. Does a child have to be a new-born or of a certain age? Why can't we think of a grown up child, why does the child have to be a new-born, the hint here is the grown-up rainbow that's much older than you and I. Sounds silly? Presumptuous? Think about it..as to how we get trapped into words. We are talking about a new role here! It's suddenly that the grown-up child decides to change its role, from being just a produce of its parents to helping them learn.
Normally I get upset if I am asked to change lines, this is my drawback I admit. However, I will think about it because it makes a lot of sense, but, I cannot promise. Now this is just humour Gothicman!!! I am honoured to read your comments.
Cheers!

Bozzz on 04-09-2014
The guardian angel
I can imagine this poem as the thoughts of an early teenager. At this time parents do suddenly begin to behave in a reprehensible manner, but by the time he/she gets to 23, they will seem to have learned to improve their behaviour considerably - obviously they have grown up a bit too! I liked this piece, despite the occasional rough patch - well done indeed.....David

Author's Reply:
I appreciate your interpretation David. With kids, delinquents sitting on the wrong side, the poem tries to focus more on the relationship than on the age. In the PAC (parent-adult-child) conversation, the transaction between adults never happens. As a consequence, we have divides. About the rough patches, I will let them be because of the web. If I do a ting here I will have do to a tong there, and no, I don't like that. However, I will think about it. This is my challenge I agree. I go through a rigorous exercise of positioning the poem myself, of course with my occi-oriental mix. But I seem to be too rigid. Let me see. Anyway, thanks a myriad times for taking the time to read and comment.

Mikeverdi on 04-09-2014
The guardian angel
Read, and read again. I was still not sure I got the message; reading the comments and your answers was a great help. I have enjoyed your work on UKA...even if I don't always get it first time 🙂
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Mike!


Breaking apart (posted on: 29-08-14)
It is also of liberation.

My mirror has broken. It did not make any sound, as it fell on the grass. My head hung, I could see the broken sky with muddy borders in the grassy background. There are mirrors now; they are mirrors, on the ground. Broken memories smashed onto the field where I stood, without bending. The first drop of rain fell on the glass. The numb drops came softer and light. The parts of my moist mirror were caught into the soggy field that made no sound. There are mirrors now; they are mirrors, on the ground. Came the wind as I stood still in the pin drop game. The sun trespassed and washed me dry, now nothing bent and nothing hung the parts no more mine, that lay on the grass.
Archived comments for Breaking apart
Gothicman on 29-08-2014
Breaking apart
I like this a lot Supratik, You have a tendency to write too stilted and long-drawn, but the potential talent you possess nevertheless always shines through. I studied your submission last time and it was just too hard going and with phrasing that just didn't work, even in context (e.g. ...if you long), but this one I think is very good; I like the subject matter and presentation. It could be a metaphor for any sudden revelation, or realisation that changes your self-image for ever, even the changed self-image with aging for example, which often is not gradual, but a sudden realisation, and it can be painful. I have a feeling you are in India, and bilingual, and that you, like Zoya, have an indigenous knowledge of english and its lyrical use, perhaps a teacher even? Anyway, enjoyed this one, very skillful....Gothicman

P.S: Oh I've just seen your account page, explains it all.

Author's Reply:
Hello Gothicman, Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes, I am from India, did my Masters in French literature from India and then my D.E.A (Eq. M.Phil) in Modern French literature from France. By profession, I have been a teacher, professor at various schools and colleges of India. However, I am now into translation and localisation in a US based MNC (IT) based out of India with English and French as my pair. I write poems in English, Bengali (my mother tongue) and French. I am very impressed with your feedback, especially with if you long (if you so long, in fact). When I get into the exercise of re-writing my rough work in order to finalise, I take care of the form and the content. That is why I appear to be a little inflexible incorporating changes! However, I would want to know from you why you think it 'just didn't work', and if there's any alternative that you could suggest.
Thank you so much!

stormwolf on 30-08-2014
Breaking apart
Hello Supratik
I have such admiration for people who can write poetry that is not their first language. I find Indian poets have a sing-song way of expressing themselves for the want of a better way. It's difficult to describe but I also liked this piece.
I saw the metaphorical shards of mirror on the grass and the reflections that come and go on different levels. In this country we have a superstition that if you smash a mirror you get 7 years bad luck.
There is a feeling of mute dismay and almost disembodied observation if that makes sense.

The repetition worked for me too.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Hello Alison,
Thank you for reading and commenting. I am so happy to receive your appreciation about me as someone who is trying to get somewhere. Your observation on the poem is spot on. I am sure you have realised that there is no mirror in the poem, it is but a metaphor. The physicality of the word 'mirror' is delusive, what it refers to is 'image'. Images that we create about us, others, situations that appear real. With my modest understanding of English literature across the world, I am aware of the superstition!!! I am so happy that you have mentioned about it, and also this priceless observation 'It's difficult to describe but I also liked this piece'.
I am only humbled to receive comments like these from poets of your stature!
Respects.
Supratik


Stories (posted on: 29-08-14)
About stories day and night. Well, not exactly... there is this beyond which is the central theme, or so it seems... we normally tend to write on things we see and hear...that's all... rest is all trapped in between this and that... my stupidity

It's dark now. A little while ago, there was light in the sky. My vision could go till a distance and travel back into the eyes with stories to tell. I saw men, women, boys and girls talking with their teeth and tongues. From a distance I could hear a window playing an instrument. There must have been a person behind, which the eyes could not find. The tune was trying to tell me something the ears Tried to hear all the grammar that poured into them From the window, little far from near. I walked a step or three but went miles away from me lights began to fly, the least of blue to the sky. Now darkness in the trees and blackness in the nests, My sight was off the dogs and frogs, They barked and croaked so clear with crickets beating everywhere. Unknown sounds came to me but were left as they'd be. I could take one step at a time, could even fall, there wasn't a moon, no stars no scratch of light at all; The feet hurt, hands full of mud, I walked on the flat, on the mound, took one step, at a time, from the surface to the ground. There was sometimes rhythm in my step, sometimes none at all. I heard the brooks, the careful fluttering of the wings, the snores of strangers, Smelt the four-legged passengers; on-lookers may be Their eyes shining bright at me, Breeze sometimes smelt fresh, it carried the flowers, the mud, the blood and the flesh. A drop of little sweat came running from the head, ran straight into the groin, I shivered out of cold, and felt the living dread. By then I was set to dark; my mind, now fit to fall and find. The sounds of the dew, dropped countless from a few; Poured music in the ears, that didn't hear for years. It's light now. A little while ago, there was darkness in the sky. My vision could go till a distance and travel back into the eyes with stories to tell.
Archived comments for Stories
sweetwater on 31-08-2014
Stories
Wow, didn't really understand the meaning, but lovely phrasing
so many pictures came and went as I read, loved the " darkness in the trees, and blackness in the nests " and the " no scratch of light" too. I think it will be one of those poems that however many times one reads, it will say something new. Fascinating read. 🙂 Sue.

Author's Reply:
I am touched by your comment. Oftentimes, it happens with stories around us.. they do not come with clarity all the time. However, on the whole, you 'feel' there is an element of story. The poem has a lot of drama in it, but it is not exactly concrete per se. Thank you very much for reading and commenting.


Role to play (posted on: 25-08-14)
The omniscient audience! The quote that appears in the poem is from 'The Tables Truned - an evening scene on the same subject'

You have a role to play if you so long. Puppets are the actors, Frozen white and strong; In silence Audience, Go to alter the authors. Don't sit and see Othello and Meursault Kill Desdemona and the Arab, Reason is out of dais you can't even grab; Don't let the Montague and the Capulet, In the confused and helpless hamlet, Fight for nonsense; Audience! Lovers, innocents kill and strangle to death, Like you they too need their space and their breath, You have watched so far with popcorn and coke Bickering and simmering your bubbles did choke. Hey audience! Are you there? Heard the poet screech? 'Up! Up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely you'll grow double: Up! Up! my Friend and clear your looks; Why all this toil and trouble!' Off your seat-belts now and on to the stage! Written word is here, out and off the page Save the couples now and all those timid players Who kill and breed killers with victimized rage! The curtain falls; the audience sees They are on the stage with countless layers Actors with audience melting at ease Released right inside their same old cage! Go to alter the authors. Audience, In silence Frozen white and strong; Puppets are the actors, You have a role to play if you so long.
Archived comments for Role to play
stormwolf on 27-08-2014
Role to play
Yes, "all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players" as good old Shakespear said.
I think many of us lose ourselves in the acting.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Alison! Thank you for reading and commenting! But Shakespeare is 'only' good. Please let us remember this.

Supratik on 27-08-2014
Role to play
The poem might need an explanation. Yes, it is an allusion as it refers to Shakespeare and Camus. However, it refers to those plays or novels whose characters kill or destroy themselves out of rage or doubt, viz. Meuresault, Othello, Romeo and Juliet. The poem, in its capacity, is urging the audience to think and engage in the actions that happen in the infinite stage ! For there, the seers are also doers, and therefore, they do have a role to play instead of sitting back in inertia and witnessing news of horror, terror and violence as part of their lives. The first and the last stanzas are in reverse order which could mean, a participation, if not a complete role reversal. If we want destruction to cease, we need to actively disengage from all the wars that happen within us. So, in Role to play, audience is very much a part of the super-stage, not apart from it. The poem is not positioned as a preacher, but as a player in the game of things!

Author's Reply:


Just a little away (posted on: 22-08-14)
Being in a state. How can one understand something that which is beyond convention. It's always a little away. But let's not get bothered, let's repeat our thoughts like people eons of years ago...after all, that's also just a little away, ha!

Drowned in the ocean of words, The trained devil lived in me For eons of years. Old stories, flirted with the new An iceberg trained my cotton thoughts, Stuck in the mountain top, each time as clouds Until they tore apart. Lightness masked in light turned into liquid stiffness, In depth and width; Images went into the desert To look for water. Silent nameless objects had to listen To the sandy salty silky mirror Howling into hollowness, Reluctant compulsion to form demons To recognize, recall, Yet surprised, How corpses re-appear on the frozen zone! Loud evil is a live note of being. Now it ventures with a cracking tune. The latent talent of needlessness to shape With ears and eyes alive, Floating in the air Arrive in the clearing. Out from the jungle of weeds, Just a little away, though Neck deep in words.
Archived comments for Just a little away

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Organs (posted on: 22-08-14)
Our organs our programmed to receive negatives more credibly than non-negatives.

Ears were talking to the eyes Of histories, of horrors heard, Broken bones with bodies of hearse, Nothing could be realized except blood. What eyes saw ears played in the see-saw game Repeated blaspheme in the agonies of fame, And the odor they sent, for the nostrils to smell, Smoke from the drains kept stinking as hell. In the scratch of borders with orders of war They damaged, went howling as though fallen for the star, The pairs fell sick still rhymed the grimace face, With blisters of burns that embraced without grace. All the painted drama in the canvas still hissing Echoed just the same for the eraser was missing, Where is the root, in the flesh or in the bone? Thoughts kept singing in the tunes overthrown! Freshness in the light with a palliative sound, Will the organs witness as they wander on the ground.
Archived comments for Organs
stormwolf on 23-08-2014
Organs
Hello there, welcome to UKA.
I thought this was very original. I liked the interplay between the different parts of the body which work like an orchestra really, all with their job to do.
The overlay of war, death and destruction gives it relevance in today's
dreadful world sad to say.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison for reading and commenting. I am so happy to read your observation on the poem.


The Seed (posted on: 22-08-14)
absurdity

Tales of fruitlessness in the eating of fruits, Nothingness in nothing is missing, since stories Started to write in the minds of the bench seated blankly Beside a flowing river; No need is felt for the Seed to produce something, In place of something, The same child, born hundred years ago Is dying in the same parent, From the food to the shoes, Cooked in the kitchen brain, Is visibly mixing, though slow, from the surface; Ketchup and seasonings, excess exercises on the externals, Are matters that mouth-water the gray. The bench in the goings-on of growth-death twins, In the tracks of the parent and the child, Is easily found; Change without a storm remains the form And the noisy course alone brings out the predicted saliva. Hands of the clock in the externally silent mime-show do not move During eating the eaten, Or during the making of a birth, time pretends to stop.
Archived comments for The Seed
Bozzz on 22-08-2014
The Seed
Friend, you are regularly exceeding the four submissions maximum per week. Please play fair, Thank you....David

Author's Reply:
Thank you for your observation. I am a new entrant here and I thought the control for posting was not in the hand of a writer. I will keep this in mind for sure going forward. 'Play fair' is making me collapse. Thanks once again.

stormwolf on 27-08-2014
The Seed
Very deep and philosophical.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison!


Re-creation (posted on: 18-08-14)
Let us do some meaningful research as to how we can make this world worth living. For some time, if we could concentrate less on the world beyond and more on the world in which we live.

Come let us find a new world, A land, where we plough our thoughts, Trees that carry our breaths, A seed that wills on the sand, Just at the drop of a hat. Come let us build a new world, Where rivers border the fields, not our hearts, Mountains stand to give, not to guard, A bird that sails on the sky, Without reason this or that. Come let us create a new world, That helps the blood to air the Source, With a mind that means to mend, Goes distance to see no end, Lands on us, shows what was there, World in its place loving as it were!
Archived comments for Re-creation
ifyouplease on 18-08-2014
Re-creation
positive vibes here, thanks! i especially liked the middle stanza

Author's Reply:

sweetwater on 21-08-2014
Re-creation
I like the sound of this new world, won't be too long before we need one. Great write. Sue.


Author's Reply:
Thank you so much!

Best regards,
Supratik


Reflection (posted on: 18-08-14)
It is about reflection.

I have come to my place! Calm, quiet, serene Full of bliss, all the time, Fruits and flowers, Animals and birds, I call my playmates; Water's so clean, In the ponds where I bathe! Huts that I thatch, Foods that I cook and eat, Cows that I milk and feed, I play when I work, From dawn to dusk, I am ready, always Prepared to take off! Readers might have similar feeling if the poem is read from the last line to the first.
Archived comments for Reflection
PSPaul on 18-08-2014
Reflection
Profound and classy.

Author's Reply:
Hey Partha! Thanks!

ifyouplease on 18-08-2014
Reflection
good dreams reflect our hopes and bad dreams reflect our despair. yours is a good dream and your reflection is hopeful.

Author's Reply:
Thank you!

Gothicman on 18-08-2014
Reflection
Someone, like a winged bird, who appreciates the simple value of everyday situations, tasks, and functions or the hopes and aspirations of someone who wants life to be that way? Either way, this idyllic situation of contentment along with the freedom and ability to try something new when up for a challenge is what most people would consider to be the metaphor of an ideal life, I think so, anyway.. Enjoyed.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are absolutely right. As a matter of fact, when I wrote this, I thought I was being disconnected, for a number of reasons. Interestingly, I let the poem happen! If everybody is in search of an ideal life, why doesn't it happen I wonder! Do our thoughts also contribute in some way or the other? I am glad you enjoyed!

ValDohren on 18-08-2014
Reflection
Beautiful Supratik. I actually preferred it bottom to top, though of course it's just as good read downwards. A poem reflecting contentment and calm, something we all need from time to time I am sure.
Val

Author's Reply:
Thank you Val for commenting so beautifully!

Pilgermann on 21-08-2014
Reflection
You have created a good place for your self..

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting! Yes it seems I have. I am tempted to ask you to come and join if you please.

Best regards,
Supratik

Legion on 21-08-2014
Reflection
Sounds like a reflection on the Garden of Eden, According to Mark Twain, the garden was fine until Eve put up a notice saying 'Keep off the grass'. Nice piece. Took me to a place that I'd want to call home.

Author's Reply:
Thank you!!! It does sound like one!!! I am glad you liked it!!

stormwolf on 23-08-2014
Reflection
A very cleverly written poem with a well chosen title that emphasises the layout.
It does sound idyllic. On the crit side I felt the capital letters at the start of every line hinder the flow for me but I know many chose to use them.
The poem leaves the reader feeling uplifted.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison! I think I need to clarify, especially to a marvellous poet like you. The poem is already struggling to move upwards, against gravity which is against the 'norm'. Therefore, it sticks to the so-called 'convention' of lines beginning with upper-case. I am so thankful for your comment and very rightful observation Alison! Just in case you would want to be sure that I also thought of it many times. Urging readers like you to royally overlook, ignore the impediment.

stormwolf on 23-08-2014
Reflection
A very cleverly written poem with a well chosen title that emphasises the layout.
It does sound idyllic. On the crit side I felt the capital letters at the start of every line hinder the flow for me but I know many chose to use them.
The poem leaves the reader feeling uplifted.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thank you Alison!


In the interest of everything (posted on: 15-08-14)
It is about looking at the outcome in order to prevent it from happening. The examples on the individual level are imaginative, however, war which is the main focus, is not. It is to urge the intelligent mind to concentrate on things that are really important to humankind! Otherwise, this 'Internet of everything' cannot help!

If as a child, I could see me now, I'd eat properly, Study what'd please me dear, Play to keep fit, not fight. If as a teenager, I could see me now, I'd not backchat with my parents, My teachers, my elders, my neighbors, If as a youth I could see me now, I'd focus more on my work. If now I could catch the time of my death I'd do more of service, On love, on a lot of things, Instead of fighting with words, for words With my unconscious breaths, I'd also choose the place of my birth, If I could do that with any of my worth! Hey Science! There's a lot of work to do, Instead of inventing arms of weapons With pounds of dollars, Conquer, connive, concoct and con. If I could invent a machine for good, That'd make people laugh, Create oxygen in the thick air that pollutes and pains, Track people who are starving for food, I'd there with the machine create a rain of drinking water and grain, Connect with children deprived, women violated, Provide what's needed instead of a technological bluff, That which is in the interest of everything without a price inflated. Hey Science! There's a lot of work to do, Instead of inventing arms of weapons With pounds of dollars, Conquer, connive, concoct and con. Think Science think! On something that's worth the link! I know you know the poem of art! Your smart brain's not without a heart!
Archived comments for In the interest of everything
ifyouplease on 16-08-2014
In the interest of everything
this science is too diabolical to listen to you, and (i'm afraid) it's without a heart,

your poem is beautiful. thanks for sharing.





Author's Reply:
Thank you very much for commenting on this poem.

ValDohren on 17-08-2014
In the interest of everything
Well said Supratik, the world would be a better place if everyone could think this way.
Val

Author's Reply:
Thank you Val!


Blinding blues (posted on: 15-08-14)
Letting go of insecurities

Fruits of memories, On the branches, in the trees Morning moon, a reminder Of an unwanted tool, visible afar, Handicapped love has gone to search For a better retrouvailles; It is soon to be blessed with a boon Of euphemism; On the other side, the setting free clich Is a struggling fish, crawling towards a pond nearby, The sky is breaking apart, The noise is out of place.
Archived comments for Blinding blues
Mikeverdi on 15-08-2014
Blinding blues
I like this, you have indicated 'critique welcome' my suggestion would be to lose some words eg. 'it is' soon to be .... 'it is' simply not needed, and spoils the flow of your excellent words. This is only an opinion; others may differ. I offer this in the spirit of friendship.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Mike for liking the poem, and also for your feedback! Friendship has a lasting impact in Supratik who values it more than anything else. So going forward, please suggest.
Here, your suggestion is brilliant, and I have read the poem without 'it is' many times. In my opinion, it is acting as a shield against over-rhyming. Otherwise, 'soon' and 'boon' are so close that the rhyme is snatching the attention.

chant_z on 15-08-2014
Blinding blues
Very refined wordings throughout. A delightful read. Flows nicely. I agree with Mikeverdi on omitting the "it is"; not needed since there is a semicolon (in my limited understanding)

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much!

ifyouplease on 16-08-2014
Blinding blues
very nice!!

Author's Reply:
Thank you!

ValDohren on 17-08-2014
Blinding blues
Very good, great verse.
Val

Author's Reply:
Thank you Val! I have read your interview. Enjoyed and learned. Thanks much for those valuable input an aspiring full-time writer would need.


Life as I read it (posted on: 11-08-14)
With our past-hat on, present ceases to be different. How does one experience life is the wake-up call! The choice here is to read 'Life as I read it' in the present or in the past tense. Something that we see as present is trapped into the past. Word is just an excuse, thought is what matters while making a choice...c'est tout!

Life is like a railway track, Or a file kept in the forgotten rack, We move and go in the proven field, Lest flaws belittle and make us yield. That I am this and never that, Chains that cripple our dogma diktat, Before I look and before I know, The roles and rules throw up in a row. A life before I have to live, It's locked in frames with clever belief. Who will wake up from the bed so dead! A life to read before it's read!
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In search of the huddle (posted on: 11-08-14)
Waiting for the huddle!

Worlds that are born of the non-dual world, Dwell in the minds that are blind and blurred. Since the One is merged in too many ones, The meaning is lost in the huddle undone! In the faith that the world can never be destroyed, Hats are hatching and heating in void. Intelligence for sure can win us a way, If that's not butchered in pieces of clay!
Archived comments for In search of the huddle
ifyouplease on 17-08-2014
In search of the huddle
not sure if i got it, but if you mean that we must gather/huddle and use our intelligence together to "see" again what this possibility of "butchered in pieces of clay" deprived us from then i'd be probably on the right track.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for commenting. Yes, you are on the right track. However, the explanation is thus:
Intelligence that exists has been defined in many ways. However, we seem to cut intelligent into pieces and look at the reality as a snap-shot. It is possible to misread the poem as spiritual if the reader gets trapped into interpreting ‘non-dual’ as an ism. Non-dual is not non-dualism, or is it? The intent of the poem is not to talk about non-dual consciousness as such, or infinite intelligence for that matter, but to talk about understanding intelligence that is verifiable, measurable, quantifiable; to look at intelligence with an open mind from a holistic perspective. The whole is greater than the summation of parts is in the terrain of systems thinking which the poem wants to address. If you look at the parts, what you see may be different from what it actually is, for example a rope, a sword, a wall, a fan, and so on for an elephant. [Ref: Six men of Hindostan] It is this that the poem wants to address. Our belief systems are so deeply ingrained in us that we refuse to look at the world which does not know of any difference!
That there is no difference is incomprehensible to the mind! We look at the difference in food, shelter, clothing, language, temperature, topography without looking at them as a common phenomenon for existence. You could argue of the difference in temperatures of the world as a measure for difference, but doesn't it then overlook the similarity of the object temperature! What kind of an orientation of convenience is this!
I think more than the first two lines the next two lines lean more towards a spiritual interpretation, it can mislead readers; the One personified does provoke the reader with a script ‘ekam advaitam’[One and the only one]. But the poem can justify for not taking a spiritual position, because the world which we can touch, feel, and see is also one.
That seas and mountains, deserts and glaciers are various parts of the whole, [much like the human body] without difference is a selective omission of facts orchestrated and marketed by the Intelligent mind; something that’s proving to be a white elephant for the inhabitants of the world.
For a metanoia [a shift in the mental model] to happen, we need a huddle. So the poem has a mask of spirituality, but it is talking of things that are more pragmatic in nature. The final explanation to poem’s pragmatism is that it is not waiting for a Godot, it is waiting for 'the' huddle, a real egoless, huddle. If that happens, Godot might emerge!
Whatever said and done, multiple interpretation is possible I agree.
Thank you for giving me an opportunity to explain.

ifyouplease on 17-08-2014
In search of the huddle
thank you very much for the explanation. i knew you didn't mean it in the "dualism" way. not that i would have a problem if you did. personally i am inclined to believe that what we are currently experiencing (collectively) is more of a simulation.

Author's Reply:
Thanks very much Nic...yes I agree about the simulation bit!

ifyouplease on 17-08-2014
In search of the huddle
just checked your profile- are you from India? what does your name mean? i know anil means air, yash means victory (?), amar means immortal pratik means symbol etc. you have fascinating names.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for wanting to know the meaning of my name! It means good (su) symbol (pratik). In all fairness, I would like to know your name, if you please!

ifyouplease on 17-08-2014
In search of the huddle
great name you have!



my name is the feminine of Nikolaos (a Greek name, I'm from Greece), which means "victory of the people".

you can call me Nic, Supratic 🙂

Author's Reply:


Borderless day (posted on: 11-08-14)
It is strange to find the world talking with alacrity about interdependence in the backdrop of internationalisation shrinking the world as a 'global village' and yet the independent flags flutter as a matter of pride for all the wrong reasons. It shows how much we are unwilling to let go!

We want an interdependence day When borders melt and differences cease, We live without fear, with ease We meet, smile, laugh and play. Days that talk of the past In the flags that flutter in the sky, Are gone, not to overcast Us anymore with anger and wry. We belong to the world Patriots of countries we're out Of the orders so bold Cross limits strong and stout With a simple flag that dances to say, We want a borderless day. Wars have gone into the past Now it's peace that's to stay, We want interdependence to last With a single flag on the borderless day!
Archived comments for Borderless day

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Sense on leave (posted on: 08-08-14)
In the pursuit of Intelligence, the Intelligent become fools.

Life grounded. Sounds of vehicles Merge with cries of various classes and Sameness shamelessly defeats newness of all kinds Imprisoned in poisoned melancholy of frozen thoughts Icebergs are upside down smirking at the mountains, Silence measured, calculated. On the other hand, Leaves are drying up Ponds, lakes covered with brown fatigue. Sky laughs with innumerable teeth Of basic hanging colours, white, black, gray, Nothing rises above the focus. Faiths of bullets, guns And incredibly visible sharpness of arms Are awed with respect from all corners; Horizons have merged into a ball Replete with hunger of hired angers; Known result of stagnation, starvation Horror, terror has scrapped all other Impotent words from the dictionaries. Green leaves that dare to peek Rainbows that connect Troubled floors Are royally ignored; Dumped in the confines of writers Never to be read or heard, Creativity lies in the destruction of life. The world that was born years ago With a lot of care Is all set to be destroyed with intelligence, On sabbatical smokes hibernates the sense.
Archived comments for Sense on leave
Rosco on 17-08-2014
Sense on leave
Enjoyed the stream of consciousness carefully articulated in this nature-based meditation. Fine imagery. I might cancel the 's' on smokes in the last line(non-count noun) unless it refers to the slang for cigarettes which ends with s.

Author's Reply:
Thank you for reading and commenting. I am glad you observed the 's' as it indeed refers to an addiction that contributes to overcasting the sense.