Week 7 Poem of the Week on Mythology, Culture, and Life

Hello, Happy Saturday!

This is Morning, Well, Ladynimue is on vacation, I am here to represent Poem of the Week on week 6 poetry picnic with Theme of Stories of Mythology, Culture, and Life, hosted by Shashi.

We have seen quite a number of quality entries this week, and on such deep and hard topic, it is amazing to discover some precious talent among our participants.  Ocean deep thanks to all of you who have linked in and shared your thoughts on the theme, or your poetry on random bases. You make us who we are, and please keep your energy and enthusiasms coming…

Week 6 poetry picnic poem winner is given to Heaven for her Dark Love, She has done a very stunning job in understanding and retelling the original stories of mythology. Feel free to read her complete post via the link below:

http://a-sweetlust.blogspot.com/2011/09/dark-love.html

The bed linen soaked your dark passion

as your hands gripped my pale cheeks
kissing my lips until I was bruised pink
crushed in the death grip of your arms
i felt no tenderness nor waning of your lust
you wanted to scourge my body into hades 

all the flowers from my hair fell, scattered
in the floor, cold and metallic, unlike the soft
garden of my home, now so very far away
your long limbs pressed close, eyes glazing
not even the shadows of the night can hide
your fierce ardor, unapologetic and raw    

   

my maidenly robe hanged, ripped, crumpled, 
by doorway between earth and hell
I could not tell the difference, forgetting as
I came alive, writhing under your soft mouth 
warm, fervent hands kneading my bare skin

my lips sighed, moaned, drowning out
mother’s pleas and cries in the wind
all over the world, her anguish echoed
tears killing the lush meadows, soil
wasteland, barren and empty like her heart

forget, I wanted to, my motherland 
as your lips devoured my cup, filling
every inch of my pure white flesh
in throes of black spell, i felt alive
your queen, replete with your fruits    

offering pomegranate seeds for my rest
a taste of heaven you said, and I took it 

slowly licking reddish pulp from your fingers 

coal eyes glowed with pride as you gazed 
at velvet purple ribbon around my neck  

I strongly recommend that you also check out the following entries to boarder your version of our week 6 theme, I wish I could honor all of you who have spent time writing for the theme and reading your peers to encourage and get inspired, here the following poets are given a honorable mention, keep up the excellence.  Cheers!

Ina:http://inaweblogisback.wordpress.com/2011/09/26/europas-lover/

Ed Pilolla: http://edpilolla.blogspot.com/2011/09/by-then-ill-be-hungry.html

Isadora:http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/lord-speak-to-me/

Anjun Artwriter:http://poeticocean.blogspot.com/2011/09/poem-in-response-topoetry-picnic-wk-6.html

 Week 7 Poetry Picnic Theme: Love and Love Lost, Everyone is Welcome to Share!

Bless Your Weekend! 

Friday Poetry Blog Week 7 - Kim Nelson Writes

This weeks blog review is one of the many blogs that I have been going back and forth over the last few months. She's well known by many of the bloggers from Jingle & Gooseberry community.
Let me introduce this weeks featured blog, Kim Nelson .


About Kim : words by Kim herself.

I AM an artist,  writer, creator and wordsmith.
My media: Words, letters, syntax and form.
Give me some words.
Let me work my magic.
I can’t wait to see what develops.

Her Blog

The blog has the welcoming of a garden side, as I have noted that she also has written books on gardening. I can tell that she is truly one for nature and takes it as God's gifts to us humans to enjoy the beauty especially in teh Springtime.

On her header you will find tabs that would link you to : Books Published, Contact & Archives, she also has a tab for her art. Each creative diversity has its own place where you can enjoy her art,poetry and short story fiction.

Her Poetry, Writing

A Little Light, Please

By Kim Nelson, on September 8th, 2011%

let me
look into your peepers,
soul to see

let me
saturate myself with
your energy

let me
open up the windows of my heart
willingly invite you from the start

let me
Love
you

Forward 1-9, etc.

By Kim Nelson, on August 15th, 2011

Go

forward

lest you find

you’re left behind

because not going

is the same as choosing

to fall back, lose ground, decline

Evolve. Devolve. Seems you have a choice.

“There you go, you are a success aren’t you?”

I personally like this poem, it tells me that we should move on beyond the point we're at this current moment. That life is about moving, evolving and that our goals is there to be reached, nothing is not attainable, depends on ourselves what God has given us to make it worth.

I leave you with this quote inspired by Kim Nelson.

Heaven Lies About Me

By Kim Nelson, on August 15th, 2011

“One of the hardest lessons we have to learn in this life, and one that many persons never learn,

is to see the divine, the celestial, the pure,

in the common, the near at hand-

to see that heaven lies about us here in this world.”

- John Burroughs

I am Chimnese and I am wishing you all a great week ahead, also dont forget to check this blogger's work out at Kim Nelson Writes .

Thursday Poetry Forms (Poetry for Dummies) Week 7

Hello, this is Ava with the lovely CC Champagne to guide you through the deep ocean of different poetry forms. This week we are going to create a list of some the different poetry forms, with a little definition of each. Later, of course we will go more in-depth in to all of these. This week, I would like all the readers to pick out which one we should do next. (DISCLAIMER: Your input is greatly appreciated, but we may not be able to create a post for that particular form the following week. However, we will get of it as soon as we can.) So put on you wet suit, goggles, flippers and oxygen tank and dive in. If you have any questions, let me know!

Here is the list I have compiled:

Abecedarian 


Anapora 


Ballad 


Ballade 


Blues Poem 


The Bop 


Cento 


Cinquain  


Elegy 


Epic 


Epigram 


Ghazal 


Haiku 


Limerick 


Ode 


Pantoum 


Renga 


Rondeau 


Sapphic 


Sestina 


Sonnet 


Tanka 


Terza Rima 


Triolet 


Villanelle 




These are some of the more common ones. If you do not understand, please let me know and I will find a more user-friendly site for you. My mission is for all the readers to comprehend reading. If you do not, I am more than happy to help!

Poetry form Week 7: Limerick

A Sample Limerick by Maureen

Hello, This is Morning, I am backing up for Ava today, while she is spending time with her family..
This week, let's go for Limerick, which is a fun and beautiful poetry form. Everyone shall be able to cook up one after you read the definition, samples drawn from Poets from our own community, hope that you enjoy it and write and share...

What is a Limerick?

According to Shashi (quoted him below)

A limerick is a kind of a witty, humorous, or nonsense poem, especially one in five-line anapestic or amphibrachic meter with a strict rhyme scheme (aabba), which is sometimes obscene with humorous intent. The form can be found in England as of the early years of the 18th century. It was popularized by Edward Lear in the 19th century, although he did not use the term.

The following example of a limerick is of unknown origin.

The limerick* packs laughs anatomical                   *(pronounced "lim'rick" to preserve meter)

In space that is quite economical,

    But the good ones I've seen

    So seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

Gershon Legman, who compiled the largest and most scholarly anthology, held that the true limerick as a folk form is always obscene, and cites similar opinions by Arnold Bennett and George Bernard Shaw, describing the clean limerick as a periodic fad and object of magazine contests, rarely rising above mediocrity. From a folkloric point of view, the form is essentially transgressive; violation of taboo is part of its function.

Here are more samples from poets who participated so far at the Purple Tree House:

Ali! Ali! Ali! By kaykuala

                                   

Even at the pre-fight joint weighing-in

He would come swinging and ranting

He gave accurate predictions

Of his opponent’s derelictions

As they fall from grace to the ground reeling

Fire-Fighter Limerick by Zongrik

Some fire-fighters who loved to watch porn
Rallied  on an idea that’s now still-born.
They set up their truck
So porn stars could f__k.
Now they suffer the department’s full scorn.

A Funny One by Mike Patrick

There once was a lass from Kilkenny
who was born with one breast too many.
In a world of such hunger,
she was pleased with the number,
her babies were blessed with plenty.

A Man Named Happy  Sarah Johnston

I once knew a man named Happy
He was my old Grand Pappy
He was never on time
Till he fell on a dime
Now he dresses real snappy

A Fickle Limerick by Madkane

A popular gal who was fickle
Found herself in a terrible pickle:
A fellow she spurned
Launched a web site that turned
Her long wooers-list into a trickle.

Check out more limerick samples via the link below, feel free to write one, post in your blog, and link to Shashi’s post below by Sunday, have fun!

 POETIC FORMS WK 3 : LIMERICK (Sept. 21-October 2, 2011)

POETRY PICNIC WK 6 : Stories from Mythology, Culture and of life

Hello, Friends, This is Shashi, the host for the Sixth week of creativity and enjoyment at 

The Gooseberry Garden for Poetry Picnic Week 6.

Last week's poetry picnic was great  because the topic got powerful verses.. from the incredible community of poets such as YOU here. Thank YOU very much.

This week is going to be very interesting as we are going to touch upon some lovely stories from ‘Mythology, Culture and of life’ where you are could share your own stories inspired by mythology or your own thoughts or stories from life, that has touched you deeply...

But before that let me tell you what we are going to do next week...

Next week we are going talk about “Love and Loss” whispering our own feelings... deeply seated within our self and give it a chance to come out in the open and see how it feels to live it... or let it go.

Now coming back to our topic this week ....

POETRY PICNIC WK 6 : Stories from Mythology, Culture and of life

Birth of Venus - Painting by Botticelli c. 1486

The English imagination was fired by Greek mythology starting with Chaucer and John Milton and continuing through Shakespeare to Robert Bridges in the 20th century. Racine in France and Goethe in Germany revived Greek drama, reworking the ancient myths.  Although during the Enlightenment of the 18th century reaction against Greek myth spread throughout Europe, the myths continued to provide an important source of raw material for dramatists, including those who wrote the libretti for many of Handel's and Mozart's operas. By the end of the 18th century, Romanticism initiated a surge of enthusiasm for all things Greek, including Greek mythology. In Britain, new translations of Greek tragedies and Homer inspired contemporary poets (such as Alfred Lord Tennyson, Keats, Byron and Shelley) and painters (such as Lord Leighton and Lawrence Alma-Tadema) Christoph Gluck, Richard Strauss, Jacques Offenbach and many others set Greek mythological themes to music.

In a very broad sense, the word mythology can refer to any traditional story so I am going to share one beautiful story...

Birth of Athena (Greek)

Zeus came to lust after Metis and chased her in his direct way. Metis tried to escape, going so far as to change her form many times by turning into various creatures, such as hawks, fish, and serpents. However, Zeus was both determined and equally proficient in changing form. He continued his pursuit until she relented.

An Oracle of Gaea then prophesied that Metis' first child would be a girl, but her second child would be a boy that would overthrow Zeus as had happened to his father and grandfather. Zeus took this warning to heart. When he next saw Metis, he flattered her and put her at her ease. Then, with Metis off guard Zeus, suddenly opened his mouth and swallowed her. This was the end of Metis, but possibly the beginning of Zeus' wisdom.

After a time Zeus developed the mother of all headaches. He howled so loudly it could be heard throughout the earth. The other gods came to see what the problem was. Hermes realized what needed to be done and directed Hephaestus to take a wedge and split open Zeus's skull. Out of the skull sprang Athena, full grown and in a full set of armour. Due to her manner of birth, Athena has dominion over all things of the intellect.

Image and Text Source - Wikipedia

Thanks for joining us to support poetry, poetry promotion, and poetry sharing here at The Gooseberry Garden Monday Poetry Potluck!!!

How To submit your poetry?

Add your entry via InLinkz below by clicking on the blue button, and leave a comment in case it is your first time! It would be great if you could link back to us on your blog.

Weekly poetry collection starts on Sunday, 8pm (CDT), and will stay open till Thursday, 8pm (CDT), 96 hours for you to share your poetry with us...

Please share your talent, comment below to let us know you are here or report any problems you have, and read some very talented artists! Have Fun! 

______

Shashi 
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya

Poetic Reflections Week 6 on Ava

Tell us about yourself.          

My name is Ava. I love to write, read, dance and learn. I live in the United States of America. I long to be at least bilingual. Right now I am working on French.

Tell me about your blog, the name, what does it mean to you?

My blog verseinanutshell:

http://verseinanutshell.wordpress.com/

is purely poetry site where I write of prompts and just to some of my personal aspirations and dreams.

When have you started blogging?

I first started blogging March 2011, when I started out writing to the prompts given at www.cloakemonk.com.

Your first poem? Remember?

Actually no. I remember me first blog poetry post on Verse in a Nutshell, but when I write something, it is almost like I pull out of my mind and never remember it unless I read it. It does not make sense, but at least is was written down. 

What are your writing inspirations?

My inspirations are mainly nature, whether it be the outside kind of nature or human nature. Also I write bout that I have strong feelings about. I feel as though it brings a emotional truth to the poem.

When did you start writing poetry? Do you write fiction as well?

I probably started at about 7 or 8. I have written fiction before, but I do not enjoy it as much as I do with poetry. 

Do you have a favorite author or poet?             

My favorite poet is William Blake, I find his work has a very emotional feel. 

Favorite quote?

Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.
-Lillian Dickson

Why do you wish to get involved with Jingle Poetry Community? How Do you feel so far?

I wanted to get involved because I am always eager to help. I loved posting for the Poetry potluck/picnic and reading everybody else's work. It is still very fun to see how everyone's pieces come together. 

Any advice to poets who wish to blog or write poetry?

I know this is going to sound like something you've heard about a million times before. Those three tried-and-true words Never give up work in every circumstance! Also the most important two words: Have fun!

Poetry Picnic Week 6 At The Gooseberry Garden, The Party Starts Sunday, 8pm, Americian Central! 

Poem of the week - Object (The thing form / Objectivism / Imagism etc)

Morning Poetic friends !

Hope you enjoyed the Poetry Picnic sharing , caring and more over developing into a friendly community together.We at Gooseberry Garden enjoyed each of your poetic talents and are amazed with the use of words in your poems .This day , one poem honors to be displayed here and here we go ....

Our choice of the winner for this week theme is Kodj Deynoo

Faces that Smile

I build castles, with lime stones..
And coliseum before one is known..
Clock ticking, my brain moves, as worker ants do..
Generating ideas feeling it with ambition..


Eyes see what I aspire..
Legs walk the distance, crossing the red sea..
Destiny does not give me affirmation..
Of the promise land..


A parallel world of choices..
Like the chess game I play..
Burnt marks and wrong moves..
The shepherd’s dog to guide me..


Truth be told, on virtuous lands..
 To not have set motions on pretence..
And in resolve, seen in clear day light..
What mountains needs climbing ..


With chest out, on brave stands..
 I summon phoenix..
Sweats, fuel my adrenaline rush..
To have my castle seating in my arm..

The above Poem written by Kodjo Deynoo 

About Me:

I am Umamaheswari Anandane ,the owner of Inside My Poem Book and Perpetual Mind , feels honored to be a part of the Jingle poetry reading and selecting poems from amazing writers everywhere.

Cheers!

Lets encourage each other and grow together !

Uma @ (http://umaspoembook.blogspot.com/) 

Friday Poetry Blog Week 6 - Tales From The Sea

Today while I was looking through blogs to find out that seemed to speak to me so I could write a review I found this one. It is called Tales From The Sea. Even before I actually started reading the poems on it and it’s content I was already drawn. The way the posts are made was fascinating to me. All the posts contained images to relate their stories or poeticness. I found the style of the blog very intriguing. One of the poems I liked best on this site was called “Poems” and I can not copy and paste the words here to quote to you since they are inside of the image, so I will simply show you the image which captures the essence of the poem.

Another interesting poem I came across was called Art Class. This poem seems to have a starting hope to it but it gets shattered all too quickly at the end.

The over all lay out of the blog is quite fascinating and worth reading. I unfortunately could not find the author’s name and the About section is quite a fascinating explanation why. The mystery of the author combined with the closeness felt through the poetry is a very captivating combination and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I do recommend, highly, reading this blog.

~Robin Elizabeth (Write.It)

Thursday Poetry Forms (Poetry for Dummies) Week 6

Hello again! CC Champagne here to raise a glass of bubbly (or a non-alcoholic alternative, of course) with you. Last week the delightful Ava took us through the mystery of the Haiku and for those of us, like myself, who haven't mastered that form yet, I found her post very educational and informative.

The name Poetry for Dummies will inevitably mean that some of you find we are repeating what you already know. If that is the case, then please jump in and help those of us who aren't as well-versed in 'poetry-speak' as yourselves grow and become more inspired.

Although I have I have studied English Literature at University level, I have never felt able to grasp poetry forms. If someone asks me to write a poem in anapestic 'Bla-di-flu-di-da-meter' (and yes, that is a made up word) I run for the hills! Free verse! That is my thing! However, in all facets of life there are obstacles to overcome and trends to follow, and we need to deal with them if we are to grow. Much of the old poetry is being explored right now, and it is written in specific poetry form. To grow as poets we should attempt to learn, shouldn't we? Free verse is all fine and good, but I would like to know how to write a sonnet, a haiku, a pantoum or a villanelle. What is stopping me? What is stopping you?

Three of my problems are:

1. Fear of screwing up.

2. Syllables. I am not particularly well versed in counting syllables in my mother tongue, and as English is my second language it comes with additional problems.

3. Poetry-speak. The big words scare me. As does the ease with which so many of you use them. It is easier, by far, to hide under the warm, cozy, familiar blanket of free verse and not even attempt to figure out what an anapestic 'Bla-di-flu-di-da-meter' is, especially when everyone else seems to understand exactly what iambic pentameter is, or how to squeeze seventeen syllables into a haiku in the right way.

These are my main problems when it comes to poetry forms, and I know I cannot possibly be the only one who needs to learn. Only you can work on the fear of screwing up (as am I by doing these posts every other week), but I would like to talk about syllables today, in the hope that we can look back on this as we learn more about various meters.

The word syllable comes from Greek, and is defined by Oxford Dictionaries as 'a unit of pronunciation having one vowel sound, with or without surrounding consonants, forming the whole or parts of a word'.

A 'Dummie's guide to counting syllables' would look something like this:

1. Look for the vowels in the word.

2. Subtract any silent vowels (like the 'e' at the end of the 'Fore!' shouted by golfers).

3. If you have two vowels together, creating a diphthong, count only one of the vowels (for example the word 'you' is only one syllable).

4. Compound words, words that consist of two other words but is written together (like houseboat), along with words using prefixes (like prefix) and suffixes (like farmer) should be divided into their component words to count syllables.

5. Divide words between the two middle consonants (like bas/ket) to count the syllables.

6. Usually divide words into syllables before a single consonant (like e/vil or re/port).

7. The '-le' at the end of a word usually forms its' own syllable (like a/ble, or indeed syl/la/ble.

Some helpful poets have also suggested clapping out the word to get the syllable count, and that - along with Ava's suggestion for the iambic pentameter to count heartbeats - is a very effective technique.

Kindergarten level or not, I hope you find this a good reminder and please feel welcome to share your own tricks in the comment section.

To practice, why not attempt writing a poem with a specific number of syllables? Not words, but syllables. Shall we use my favourite, the 69?

Don't forget to join The Gooseberry Garden Poetry Pic-nic Week 5 if you want to share your work, or have a go at the Thursday Poet's Rally Week 52 over at the Poetry Palace!

*Cheers*

POETRY PICNIC WK 5 : Object (The thing form / Objectivism / Imagism etc)

My friends, I am Shashi and the host for the fifth week of creativity and enjoyment at The Gooseberry Garden for Poetry Picnic WK 5.

Last week's poetry picnic was a GREAT one where the Jingle Poetry Community anniversary has had a great response.. and we at the poetry picnic are happy about the response that You give us. Thank you very much.

This week is going to be very interesting too as we are going to touch upon an interesting form, ‘Object’ where you look deeply into the thing that you are going to write about and write what comes to your mind.

But before that let me tell you what we are going to do next week...

We are going to talk about Mythology next week and your interpretations. We have across our ages, culture, tribes and religions are full of mythology, interesting percepts and thoughts... and that is what we are going to touch upon next week. Dig into your resources, around you, within your family, your culture,  and you may find an array of resources and thoughts and stories that I am sure interest you to write about it. So go ahead take one of those threads and mint a new verse and take us to an amazing journey of your culture, thoughts and perspective.

Now coming back to our topic this week ....

POETRY PICNIC WK 5 : Object (The thing form / Objectivism / Imagism etc)

A focussed worker in one of the factory I visited in Europe recently

When Rilke, joined Rodin (the great sculptor) as his secretary, he taught him the value of objective observation, and under this influence Rilke dramatically transformed his poetic style from the subjective and sometimes incantatory language of his earlier work into something quite new in European literature. The result was the New Poems, famous for the "thing-poems" (or OBJECT POEMS) expressing Rilke's rejuvenated artistic vision. The poems of the New Poems and New Poems: The Other Part are highly wrought, using language and poetic form as a shaped and shaping material; to this extent the poems are often said to be "things" in themselves. So that is what we are going to do in this week. Write about what you see, what you perceive after seeing .. write thing poems.. relate with the object that you see.

As Buddha said in this discourse at one point of time...

“Bhikshu’s look deeply at this bowl and you can see the entire universe. This bowl contains the entire universe. This is only one thing this bowl is empty of and that is separate individual self” – Buddha

The basic tenets of Objectivist poetics as defined by Louis Zukofsky were to treat the poem as an object, and to emphasise sincerity, intelligence, and the poet's ability to look clearly at the world.

So friends, I want you to look deeply into what you are seeing and writing about and let us know that the flower exists not because of its own self, but because there are seers, who see the beauty of the existence.

Here are some examples starting with Rilke’s most famous poetry on the OBJECT form

The story about this poetry is that on Rodin’s advise, he went to observe the caged panther for straight 9 hours and he wrote this poem that is now the paradigm of poetic Object Form.

THE PANTHER
____________

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone

_____________

Rainer Maria Rilke

4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926
Curtsy Wikipedia: Read more here

The below is extract the first part of a six-page section from what was to become an 800-page poem, which takes as its subject a set of road works in the street outside Zukofsky’s New York home:

"A"-7 by Louis Zukofsky
_______________________________

Horses: who will do it? out of manes? Words

Will do it, out of manes, out of airs, but

They have no manes, so there are no airs, birds

Of words, from me to them no singing gut.

For they have no eyes, for their legs are wood,

For their stomachs are logs with print on them;

Blood red, red lamps hang from necks or where could

Be necks, two legs stand A, four together M.

"Street Closed" is what print says on their stomachs;

That cuts out everybody but the diggers;

You're cut out, and she's cut out, and the jiggers

Are cut out. No! we can't have such nor bucks

As won't, tho they're not here, pass thru a hoop

Strayed on a manhole — me? Am on a stoop.
_________________
Louis Zukofsky

(23 January 1904 – 12 May 1978)

He was an American poet. He was one of the founders and the primary theorist of the Objectivist group of poets and thus an important influence on subsequent generations of poets in America and abroad.

To read and know more about Object Form please click here...

Thanks for supporting poetry, poetry promotion, and poetry sharing here at The Gooseberry Garden Poetry Picnic!!!

How To submit your poetry?

Add your entry via InLinkz below by clicking on the blue button, and leave a comment in case it is your first time! It would be great if you could link back to us on your blog.

Weekly poetry collection starts on Sunday, 8pm (CDT), and will stay open till Thursday, 8pm (CDT), 96 hours for you to share your poetry with us...

Please share your poetry, comment below and read some very talented artists and have fun!

______

Shashi            
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya

Poetic reflections - week 5

Welcome to week 5 and Poetic Reflections. I am Blaga and today our guest is Mihir Vatsa.
Welcome Mihir! Thank you for your time, sharing thoughts with The Gooseberry Garden!

A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.
W. H. Auden

Vagabond
by Mihir Vatsa

Walking the streets,
his face assimilates
in the arbitrariness
of the similar many.

Two weeks since
his indifferent cell phone
blinked.

Friends leave behind
their existence like splashes
of dirty water in a pit
gawking in a ‘busy’ road.

His hands, convicted
to deepest chambers
of his pockets, thrust
to infiltrate the fabric,
woven neatly in a
capitalist factory;
fighting the expanse
of an unnatural cold.

The jacket shrunk long ago,
he walks silently beside
the walls of a now lost city.

Vagabond.

Tell me about yourself?

I’m Mihir; Indian; almost 21; a student of English Literature in University of Delhi and a struggling poor writer who likes cold coffee. I also believe that monsters are cute.

Tell me about your blog, about the name and what it means to you? When did you start blogging?

I manage two blogs and edit the third one since it happens to be a webzine. The first blog is simply named after me- Mihir Vatsa. Why? Ummm... no clue, really. I think I like to see my name on the top. Narcissist much? Well... yeah. I started this blog in February 2011, I guess, just to see if my poems were good enough for public reading. Just a few days later, a blogger by the name of ‘little miss homo sapien’ dropped her comment, thus, giving my blog its first international comment. At present, I get most of the comments from readers who belong to countries other than India. Feels good to see words traveling, if not me.

The second blog is titled ‘Tales of Hazaribagh’. It is on both blogspot and wordpress and in the near future, I’m planning to convert either of the two into a proper website. I share a very intimate bond with Hazaribagh and I believe it’s a really beautiful place. Not because it happens to be my hometown but because it really deserves it. The second blog actually started with a thought- let’s create a platform which would provide all the details about places of this town. Things started easily, and then the passion grew really intense. Today, when I look back at how ‘Tales of Hazaribagh’ has progressed, it gives me a weird yet comforting consolation... maybe saying ‘finally, you did something’. Feels good, again. Tales of Hazaribagh was started in October 2010, on blogspot first. In September, I imported the same blog to wordpress. We now have a Facebook group with over two hundred members, and a page as well. Cool, right?

What draws you to express yourself through poetry? Where do you find inspirations?

Tricky question. What draws me to poetry? Everything- I’d say. I wrote my first poem when I was nine or ten years old. That was some four lines scribbled in Hindi- my mom showed me later. In English, I wrote my first poem at the age of 15- on a dustbin. Funny, right? I mean, like really, a dustbin? It was a long poem... very long, as I didn’t know what ‘crisp’ meant at that point of time. Years passed and I continued writing, scribbling in classes, lectures, on word processor, and finally on blog. Now, there is hardly an hour when there isn’t any kind of poetry reeling inside my mind. Trains, buses, roads, squirrel, hat, mat, hair, beard, mobile phones, shoes, dead, alive, mouse, room, roof, rent... everything inspires poetry in me. Inspirations lie scattered; the need is to pick them up.

Untitled - 9

Six months, isn’t it?
You slipped right through
that grip of my hand
(I’m pulling back, still):
you didn’t listen; said,
you had to go, you must.
Your memory is what stinks
when I see him
drifting past my longing eyes;
the realization: he is not you
-the brown eyes;
cut of his arms, shoulders;
his melting voice; familiar touch-
stabs right through
the wound- already moist-
which you had ripped
off: before dying.

Favorite books? Authors?

Favourite books... hmmm. See, I am a huge Rowling fan, so it goes without saying that HP series is the most favorite. ‘The Hungry Tide’ by Amitav Ghosh and ‘Delhi is Not Far’ by Ruskin Bond: I can read these two books again and again. Then of course, there is Marquez. I loved Frankenstein and it is my recent favorite. George Eliot’s ‘The Mill on the Floss’ is a really nice read while Emily Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights’ is something beyond comparison. It’s really difficult for me to write down all books here as there are lots of them. How can I forget plays by Euripides and Aristophanes, they were like really awesome!

Among poets, I like Sir Philip Sidney and John Donne the most. Their styles are in immediate contrast to each other but still, the magic is preserved. W.B. Yeats is a recent favorite as I am reading his poetry these days. Sylvia Plath is awesome, and I think her poem ‘Daddy’ is the best! There are many Indian poets whom I like- Jayanta Mahapatra, especially. I also believe that we bloggers are no less poets ourselves and there are many bloggers whose poetry I really really like. Luke, Kavita, you yourself, Pat, Charles, Esteban (he disappeared, all of a sudden), Kriti, Sina are just a few names to take.

Do you think that an interactions with strangers/ people you meet in the blogging world/ is a meaningful part of your creative vision?

Absolutely. We learn so many things from each other! The sharing does not take place only in terms of some verses or syllables but you can actually visualize a whole new culture interacting with you. Sometimes, it only takes two strangers to form a story. Even in India, considering the country itself is so diverse, interacting with people from different parts is always fun. Also, in such kind of an interaction, you only see what the other person shows you, and hence there is always a kind of mystery- what exactly is the other side? I love dealing with these mysteries. So, yeah, it also harnesses your creative faculty to an extent. You imagine, you assume things, later you find out that something went wrong in your assumption... it’s like a whole parallel world. Subtle, clever, yet enchanting.

What benefits there are from participating in poetry communities?

For someone like me, who loves to make friends like anything, poetry communities are like awesome stuff to happen. I mean, I couldn’t have imagined that I would be currently answering your questions had it not been for the Jingle community of which we both are a part of. So you see, you meet people, you form friendships, you exchange ideas; then, of course, you get insane traffic on your blog and equally insane amount of comments- which make you feel like ‘finally, some recognition!’

Any advice for people involved with poetry even not professionally, what do you think is important for them to appreciate and follow?

I don’t think I’m the right person to answer this question, considering I’m quite young myself and I lack experience in a broader sphere... but I personally feel that for a poet, it is necessary to have an imaginative mind with which he/she could dig out meanings from the most trivial of objects. Wordplay is another important thing which makes a poem, poetry. See, the difference between a prose and a poem lies here only- with prose you can’t experiment much but with poetry, you can- thanks to these things called ‘poetic license’ and ‘poetic liberty’- and since I write both fiction and poetry, I understand that they demand different treatments. People who are shy writers should believe in their talent and come out in the open, if it’s possible; constructive criticism will only help to improve the quality of a piece- the talent shall stay theirs.

Drops

When was the last time you swayed me away?
Was it that ‘one fine day’ when you first visited,
Leaving me to bathe myself in the pristine showers,
Or, the day when the friendly umbrella chose to revolt?

Was it when the clouds parted to reveal your enemy,
But you were brave enough, weren’t you, to close them again,
And rewind the misty darkness through the film of August,
Till the last nights you thrummed at my door, remember?

Or was it some idle moment when you reflected my face,
In a muddy puddle- right in the middle of a speedy road,
I saw the wheels faint and heard the brakes cry-
You took my eyes in your lips and drank the pains, alone?

Or was it when the moon rebuked and teased you away,
And you drenched the soil with your treasured tears;
I cherish that moment still, when you cooed in my lap,
In a white November sky- the difference being, do you, now?

* * * * *

That would be all for today, dear Garden readers, if you like to discover more about Mihir, visit him at http://mihirvatsa.wordpress.com/
Thank you for following Gooseberry Garden and today! Stay tuned for Poetic reflection - week 6.
I am Blaga and I wish you a happy Sunday!