I cannot think of a title for the last poem of 2017

Last year,

I had a lot of people to thank for making me feel alive

This year,

I have myself

I bid adieu to 2017,

Making  sense of the rebellion inside me

Rebellion that has become second nature

So it has even stopped asking for my permission

Before flaring up illusions to pieces

Before setting fires to the imagined

Because it all came down to the three-dimensions

though I may have even seen a fourth

I woke  up to a snowfall and my lips rose in a curve

I didn't realise I was smiling until my jaw hurt

I was a wide-eyed kid in the moment I saw the whites

And gave that effortless smile

I fear

I may not experience again the magic as it froze

I once slept by the riverside in a place with colorful walls

I fear

My feet and those waves might never get close

Not a moment went by, that I regretted

So I fear

If I will ever say the same of any coming year

But this year also taught me:

I fear only what I look forward to

And so I look forward to all of those

But most of all,

I learnt this new thing

I know

I am going to practice a lot

I said no.

xoxo

You Are a Bukowski Soul: An Ode

...don't worry, but you are screwed

And you thought you wanted the yellow,
but you forgot you have a Bukowski soul


you thought leaving would be the solution
but you knew, didn't you?
that life is grey
so this pursuit of black and white is always futile?


now you are here
and it is struggle all the same
but sweeter, where the realities of an 8 hour job
don't make you uncomfortable
Bukowski said so, didn't he?


he also once called love
a dog from hell
and you cannot agree more:
the truth transcends time zones and geographies


but you are a hero,
just like Bukowski at the post office
lack of, and yet inspiration,
and so tragedy permeates your life,
for which the story
is under production


took you long, didn't it?
long enough to realise what it was, you were after
It just eludes you, doesn't it?
what do you think can cure this malady?


cure you say, is a far-cry
and bring in humour to cope
because you remember Bukowski telling you
to laugh at the odds
something about death trembling at the life you lived



the touch conspicuous by its absence
the letters undelivered
words unsaid, emails not sent
is the fleeting tragedy you can drink to.

but bottles won't suffice to undo

the evil magic of this lack

in five years' time


and you thought you wanted the yellow,
but you forgot you have a Bukowski soul
greys are all you need, greys are all you want, greys are all you will ever have.

An Ode To The Year That Was

I promise you this isn't the poetry you were expecting. I promise, this isn't something you'd revere. But I also promise that each word, each goddamn word has a significance. At least for me. I promise they are all laden with metaphors- the lines and words and letters. And I promise that I am hoping you find something, even if just a line, that makes sense to you. If you, like me, always look up to the next day as a fresh start, a rare opportunity, then know that I am rooting for you!

I will do everything but forget the year gone by

The bags under my eyes became permanent

The bags in front of my eyes became memories

There were days when I saved the day

There were days I could barely save myself

I started off trying to break from my comfort zone

I have ended up with no comfort zone at all

My quirks decided to come out of the closet

And I embraced them with giant bear hugs as they did

A lot of friendships found their elusive tuning

Some other inexplicable friendships got their tuning redefined

There was a moment when I thought I'd lost everything

There was another when I thought I'd need nothing more

Semi colons became more important than full stops

And all full stops were actually commas in disguise

It doesn't matter who became the Lucky 7 as long as you got lucky with me

It is more than just a mud cake laden with chocolate syrup on a spree

It is the promise that its never too late

It is the promise that you don't want to peak so early anyway

Maybe, Maybe became the coolest millennial Nonsense verse

And Toodles became the coolest millennial goodbye

We Spooned some

And spooned some (If you know what I mean)

I stopped using filters in instagram photos

I stopped using filters in my words

(I am still shocked most of the times at what comes out of my mouth)

So what if this year I didn't get to meet Randolph?

I turned 21, with atleast 21 memories of the year to boast of

Reading between the lines became important

Because when I say I suck at something, turns out I actually rock at it

Like adulthood, photography and coping mechanisms

Like bossing and leading and bridging chasms

The conventional just didn't hold an allure

The unconventional too had a bad trip

Shitty skype callls got replaced by stronger Whatsapp videos

And time zones gained a sudden importance

I never once judged people who fed off bling

I still shiver when you mention that thing, the 'thing' 

I also stopped shivering from the cold of the winter

I learnt to stare at the ink falling off the printer

There were days I fell every step of the way

There were days I made it unscathed

(Okay, maybe this was literal)

I finally found something I love in the city I have hated for so long
Hating and bidding adieu to college led to this all

Creeping people out became a conscious effort

Body language analysis was just the tool

Solace was sought in cozy nooks and fruit beers

Most decisions were taken without even a dash of fear (of the page duh!)

There were more firsts than lasts

Because Facebook just wont let bygones stay in the past.

I found comfort in those jumpy jeans

and did things I should have done in my teens

I may have missed on some deadlines,

Some deadlines may have hit me right at the target

New likes and weird interests may have built up

Or the built up rage may have thrown up

Pendants and cameras and brownies acquired meaning

Meaningful days were spent bookstore-hopping

Books, my best friends may have frowned upon me

Frowns might have been my only Metro company

I might have been sick more than the past

The memories box may have overflowed, there might've been a blast

But you dare not tell me to forget the year that was

It may have been the only time I saw the dull gloomy hospital walls,

It may have been easily the darkest hour, the steepest fall

But you dare not tell me to forget the year that was

That's all, folks!

Book Review: Shimmering Chimes by Maaya Dev

About the book:

Title: Shimmering Chimes

Published by: AuthorsPress

Published on: 2015

Pages: 93 pages

Genre: Poetry

Rating: 4/5

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

About the author

Maaya Dev is an Indian based poetess and an economics graduate from Calicut University, Kerala. She is a word smith wearing multi feathered cap. Her poems have found place in several national and international anthologies and journals like Episteme, Criterion, Anthesis, Eternal, Wings, Forever, Change , The Significant Anthology, Aquillerlle 2015. She is a contributor at many sites like Muse India, Boloji, Learning & Creativity, Cafe Dinssensus, Rate My Literature, Saliz Magazine. She handles a monthly poetry column ‘Tossed Pebbles’ at Bkhush. Her debut anthology Shimmering Chimes got published by Authorspress Delhi in Sept 2015. She blogs at maayas-musing.blogspot.in. 

My Review:

For once, the title of a poetry book perfectly encapsulates the essence of the verses contained in its pages. Two pages into the book, you come across this piece entitled "Beacon of enlightenment" which ends as here under:
"And I was feeling the warmth
of a thousand splendid suns
as beacon of enlightenment"

This is an example of the contemporary influences and references throughout.
The richness of vocabulary in any piece is beyond words, and yet it does not come across as intimidating- rather, it becomes the purveyor of power to words.
The words are beautifully sewn together, like nectar.
It is indeed refreshing to read poetry of such finesse in times like ours.

You might need to refer the dictionary first time, but once the meaning falls into place, it is a pure heartfelt joy to read through, read aloud and read to oneself!

I especially liked the poem "Birth of a poem". It is always so heart-warming to read about the making of an artistic masterpiece and this poem was a perfect example, what with the accurate description of words and expressions.
"In that moment of oblivion
an artistry real sketched rainbows
onto an invisible surface
I remained invincible for a while."

Another favorite is "Fireflies of time"
"Filaments of passing time
wafting in evanescence
to get folded in the memory"

How the lines capture the momentary feelings so well, and makes us feel every moment in the process.
Suffice it to say, if Dev reads out her poetry at a session, I am definitely going!

Verdict:
If you're looking for some soulful contemporary poetry, this collection might be the answer!

Links to the book:

Quotes from the book:

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Source of the review copy: I thank the author for providing me with a review copy.

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Book Review: Myriad Hues by Rachna Gupta

About the Book/Book blurb:

To me writing is a companion, a shadow that has always been there for me. In good days and bad, nothing has cheered me up as much as putting my thoughts on paper. I have cried while writing some poems and I have also smiled, thinking about the happy thoughts that bring out the words of euphoria in my writing. "Myriad Hues" is as much about me and my life as yours; the feelings that I have spoken about are universal. We all feel because our emotions are the same, despite the fact that the situation occurs at different times. My work is also about nature; this wonderful creation that we have been bestowed with! It's about nurturing our environment and caring about it. And yes, my poems are about the omnipresent God and my conversations and encounters with Him.

About the Author:

In an interview on the blog of Patridge India (the publisher), she describes herself as under, "I am Rachna Gupta, a small-town girl who moved to Pune 12 years ago. An educationist by profession, writing is something that has always interested me. While teaching English, I always encouraged the children to be creative and express their feelings through different mediums like writing, art and drama. There is nothing more magical than using words to create something new!"

My Review:

What are we looking at? Myriad Hues is a collection of sweet and simple poems by a single poet. The themes chosen are such that they delve deeper into the otherwise superficial aspects of life and living.
Poetry reading (and writing) is for those who have a way with words, and those who relish the experience of so many emotions in a few lines. Not to mention, how poetry is often open, sometimes wholly to interpretation while at others open for the reader to devour it and relate the lines to his/her own life and experiences.

Now this book, a compilation of 28 poems, is meaningful. Meaningful and intense describes it best.

Some poetry books for review in my mail. #poetry #books #bookish #bookstagram #bibliophile #instapic #shoutout #myriad...
Posted by So many books, So little time. on Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Here's a meticulous dissection:
Yay: There are some pieces I really liked for different reasons.
There is a piece called 'Innocence'. It is a sweet, succinct poetry to denote the actions of kids who are not maligned yet by the ways of the world. But again, open to interpretation, it is so many more things. It shows a girl seeking attention, so maybe the adults are not attentive enough. Maybe it is even more and deep as I make it out to be.

One very special mention goes to the poem titled 'Mood Swings'. It is a short piece, and yet it captures the theme so, so well. The abruptness, the lyrical quality and the scene created- all add up to make the poem give us emotional shivers.
Other pieces I liked were: My birthplace, Revenge, Mistake, Trepidation. My Birthplace has a reminiscent essence at its core, & Mistake is a commentary on the gender situation at the most basic level: in families. Trepidation has a charm of its own which made me like it instantly. The endearing, chirpy and enthusiastic tone also helped in the case of Trepidation.

Nay: I did find the style repetitive. It does not end the stanzas with rhyming pairs. At least not for a major part of the poem. However, I personally relish the use of rhyme as long as it isn't kiddish. Safe to say, I would have loved the poetry if I it had this element as dominantly as it had emotions interwoven.

Links:

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I thank the author for providing me with a copy in exchange of an honest review.