SAMIA SINGH

Does it need a title? Think about it.

1.

The old machine
like a big, sturdy turtle
making its way, slow...
through veils of translucency -

We
with our chilled cheekbones,
numb noses;
scan this strange landscape
marking the ends of this path
guiding our big turtle
step by step
through this dreamy darkness.

2.

we
you and me (I?)
sit together
move towards our shared destination
listening to our own preferences
our broken, disconnected thoughts

we
you and me
stare
outside these glass walls
at the same moon,
the same darkness
and the same city lights
through our different lives

we
you and me (I?)
soon
willl be far - (this line break really works)
back in our shared but own lives - (awkward sentence/syntax but it works)
it's only here now
our lives touch
on this cool ribbon of light - (this is the best line sound-wise and image wise)

Comments, editing by Koshy

ROANNA RAHMAN AND RAIN

POETIC STUFF

And we live on…in our silent lives and our silent dreams.

The world would never know…and we will never tell.

POEM

The rain

It gets darker and darker as I'm walking along,

I can't even think of the very first song.

It's getting harder now and I'm hurting,

And I know it's the longing.

I'm getting lost now,

I can't seem to remember why I'm here.

It's started to rain now,

And the reason is no longer clear.

Why did I follow?

Why did I take a chance on tomorrow?

The secret that I can finally see

Is that it means that much to me.

(ends)

AASHIM RAJ CRIES 'WOLF"

The wolf

Wolf be quick,

Wolf be fast,

Wolf come and bite sheep arse.

Edited version:

Wolf come quick

Wolf come fast

Wolf bite off the sheep’s soft arse

SECOND POEM

The beast was I?

How I became is to believe

The beast was I and

I was the beast.

My arms and legs alike;

The beast was I as

I was Beast.

I could blame Darwin for

The beast was I and

I, the beast.

But I reason.

So am I as much beast

As beast I was?

(ends)

VAIBHAV RAGHUNANDA'S POEM

Vaibhav

Inspired by Mao Tse-Tung's sermon to the assembled leaders soon after they had gained power.

He started off by saying:

Judge yourselves before you judge others. Better a small fish in a big pond, than a big fish in a dirty pond.

Small Fish, Big Pond

Said a fish to another in the Sea,

Look yonder friend,

Above, Beyond the mind's belief,

You will catch sight of yet another Sea.

With creatures swimming in it,

Not unlike you and me.

Pure Fancy!

Pure Fancy!

Replied the other.

An inch out of water,

And you'll be someone's meal.

What proof have you,

Of life in other seas?

(ENDS)

PRATAPADITYA'S BEGINNING

Frames of reference

I am transient,

And so are you.

We are just a phase,

That lives in a phase of phases.

Transience is the only constant.

I am constant,

And so are you.

We are just a constant

That lives on constantly.

It all depends on

Your frame of reference.

Your frame of reference

Is transient,

Your frame of reference

Is constant.

It all depends on

(Y)our frames of references.

Appreciation

There is a flower,

Like and unlike any other,

You behold its beauty- a beautiful flower

"In the eyes of the beholder."

You behold

The beautiful flower,

Hold it in appreciation

Over the other.

I write

My poem, elaborate;;

An audience waits,

Ready to appreciate.

You behold

My beautiful lyric;

And the critic

Inside you beholds

The beauty of the lyric.

But what do you behold?

I have only written a poem.

This is only a flower.

Beauty is your construct,

Your sophisticated mind’s fodder.

(ends)

PRERNA GUPTA'S POEMS

The lines below are what Prerna dug out as she felt she identified it as "poetic" in nature. This was followed by the poem she wrote herself as her assignment.

THE POETIC STUFF

Want to get back to old times

Want to talk

Just talk

Careless whispers floating high

Independent of the guilt of dependence.

Is there existence without dependence?

Any kind of dependence

But what is dependence…?

What are you scared of?

Independence from the guilt of dependence?

Is man self sufficient?

Who epitomizes loneliness as success?

Is it you or is it them?

Can’t escape the pinching pain

With the unbearable strain

Lurking fear of him going away

Who conditions this in you?

Is it you or is it them?

Share of your struggle you will have to bear

Or the caterpillar will die inside, my dear.

I can feel the silence and the movement of these ripples in me. It is amazing how the water can be fluid and still at the same time the stillness soothes me. It gives me the strength to be, to see, to take in, to breathe..

Can you feel the power? Can you feel the cold, the silence.

COMMON Language?

Is there one common language..?

How do you talk then..?

How do you make the other understand?

How do you communicate, then?

The words are the same

But the meanings just change

It doesn’t mean the same

There’s a mis-match in the common game

But ‘mis-fit’ is the one who fails.

THE POEM ITSELF

A search

An unquenched thirst

An encounter, soon to be there

A meeting that was arranged

And we met again

Bewitched by his words

I was already slipping away

In a mad rush things changed

A stranger became an insider

I worshipped him all the way

I was a dreamer who dared to dream

He instead fed on my dreams

My fear was what led me to him

A paradox from the beginning

A parasite at the end.

(ENDS)

A search

An unquenched thirst

An encounter, soon to be there

A meeting that was arranged

And we met again

Bewitched by his words

I was already slipping away

In a mad rush things changed

A stranger became an insider

I worshipped him all the way

I was a dreamer who dared to dream

He instead fed on my dreams

My fear was what led me to him

A paradox from the beginning

A parasite at the end.

THE FIRST POETRY ASSIGNMENTS

It is really interesting when people begin to write poetry and then circulate it. The interaction between those writing poetry, as they read the poems out to each other, and critique it will lead to better work. Writing poetry is hard work, if one is to come to a decent form and style. This, apart from the experiences and feelings and impressions and influences one encounters which are then distilled into what emerges as a "poem".
So here are the first attempts of the students to write poetry that is lyrical. By the way, these poems have been edited by A.V. Koshy so that the students know how to make them more compact and stylish and how to capture both idea and feeling.

ROSHAN ALI

1.

Fall down, misery, down my cheek

Towards earth and stone

Wet the soil.

Heart of sad songs - heavy, sad songs

Life, reduced to the trickle on my cheek.

2.

Smiles flowed freely
From one to the other.
Their looks rarely lingered.
Their minds never bothered.

With an underlying deceit
That allowed no feelings
Their eyes roamed freely,
An amphora of peelings.

Unfamiliar bodies
Rubbed lightly together.
Alcohol washed away
The last bits of bother.

3.

The clock beside me spoke the time
And as if aware of its incalculable chime
I trod the ground beside the door
Rising to see, not rising to go.

Years of pathetic sins degrade
The soul and mind begin to fade
I cannot lie for eternity
There will be an end to pity

Common were our nightly walks
A bird, a tree, an occasional fox
We spoke and laughed and lightly touched
Eyes and voice, divine,

(ends)