Literary Vibes - Edition CL (28-Feb-2025) - POEMS & BOOK REVIEWS
Title : Chit-Chat (Painting courtesy Ms. Latha Prem Sakya)
An acclaimed Painter, a published poet, a self-styled green woman passionately planting fruit trees, a published translator, and a former Professor, Lathaprem Sakhya, was born to Tamil parents settled in Kerala. Widely anthologized, she is a regular contributor of poems, short stories and paintings to several e-magazines and print books. Recently published anthologies in which her stories have come out are Ether Ore, Cocoon Stories, and He She It: The Grammar of Marriage. She is a member of the executive board of Aksharasthree the Literary Woman and editor of the e - magazines - Aksharasthree and Science Shore. She is also a vibrant participant in 5 Poetry groups. Aksharasthree - The Literary Woman, Literary Vibes, India Poetry Circle and New Voices and Poetry Chain. Her poetry books are Memory Rain, 2008, Nature At My Doorstep, 2011 and Vernal Strokes, 2015. She has done two translations of novels from Malayalam to English, Kunjathol 2022, (A translation of Shanthini Tom's Kunjathol) and Rabboni 2023 ( a Translation of Rosy Thampy's Malayalam novel Rabboni) and currently she is busy with two more projects.
Dear Readers,
I have great pleasure in presenting to you the 150th edition of LiteraryVibes. It is a significant milestone in our literary journey. In the first issue of the eMagazine that was published on 1st February 2019 there were only seven contributors. The number has grown to more than a hundred now. Nine members of the LV family, most of them first-time writers who started their literary journey with LiteraryVibes, have published their books out of the articles contributed to it. A few more books are in the offing. We at LiteraryVibes are proud of their achievements and hope that LV will continue to inspire new writers and the current ones.
150th edition being a milestone, we have decided to celebrate it with a separate special edition consisting of the best poems and short stories from the earlier editions of LV. Hopefully this wonderful compilation will see the light of the day sometime in April, 2025.
This time we are lucky to have with us seven new contributors. Ms. Sulekha Sarkar from Siliguri, West Bengal whose poem bears the stamp of powerful and deep feelings. We have a family of poets from Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, led by Ms. S. J. Sangeetha, her father, Shri G. S. Nair, and her daughter Ms. Singdhaa Pramod. They all are passionate about writing. Chaitrakana Pati, a student of Grade X in Kolkata, another enthusiastic poet who etches simple, poignant poems on the literary canvas, is a promising talent. Sainutan, a high school student from Cuttack city, Odisha, is a great addition to the Young Magic section. He is a dedicated painter and shows a great potential for the future. But the cutest addition is little Juan Lenju, a talented painter from Ernakulam, Kerala who has followed the footsteps of his elder brother Julian and grandmother Ms. Latha Prem Sakhya in adopting painting as a hobby. Let us welcome all of them to the family of LiteraryVibes and wish them the very best in their creative journey.
February is the month that hosts Valentine's Day, the symbol of everlasting love. Who, but the immortal Bard at Stratford-upon-Avon, could have described Love better?
Sonnet 116
William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Such heart-warming sentiments are bolstered when true stories from lives of great men and women come gleamed though the pages of history. Here is one:
When Mark Twain married Olivia Langdon, he told a friend:
“If I had known how happy married life could be, I would have wed 30 years ago instead of wasting time growing teeth.”
He was 32.
Twain—born Samuel Clemens—grew up in a modest family, working from a young age. He started as a printer’s apprentice, became a riverboat pilot, tried his luck at silver mining (and failed spectacularly), before finally finding his true calling as a writer. His sharp wit and storytelling brilliance made him famous across America.
It was around this time that he fell in love—not with Olivia at first, but with her portrait. A friend showed Twain a locket with her image and later invited him to meet her in person. Within two weeks, Twain proposed.
Olivia liked him, but she was hesitant. He was ten years older, rough around the edges, lacked the refinement of her wealthy, cultured circle, and had not a penny to his name. She admired his talent but turned him down.
Twain, ever persistent, proposed again. Another refusal—this time, she cited his lack of religious devotion. He responded with his signature humor and sincerity: “If that’s what it takes, I’ll become a good Christian.”
Despite her refusals, Olivia was already in love with him. But Twain, convinced he had no chance, left.
On his way to the train station, his carriage overturned. Seizing the moment, Twain played up his injuries and was brought back to Olivia’s home. As she cared for him, he made one final proposal.
This time, she said yes.
A Marriage of Devotion
Twain made every effort to please his deeply religious wife. He read the Bible to her every evening and said grace before meals. Knowing she disapproved of some of his stories, he never submitted them for publication, accumulating over 15,000 unpublished pages. Olivia became his first editor and toughest critic—so much so that when she came across the phrase “Damn it!” in Huckleberry Finn, she made him remove it.
Their daughter, Susy, once summed them up perfectly:
“Mama loves morality. Papa loves cats.”
Twain adored Olivia. He once wrote, “If she told me wearing socks was immoral, I would stop wearing them immediately.” She called him her “gray-haired boy” and watched over him like a child. He, in turn, credited her with preserving his energy, optimism, and youthful spirit.
Olivia, for her part, loved his humor. One day, Twain was laughing so loudly that she asked what book had amused him so much. Still chuckling, he handed it to her. She glanced at the cover—it was one of his own books.
Love Through Hardship
Their life together was not without heartbreak. They lost children. Twain went bankrupt. But while his indomitable optimism kept him afloat, Olivia’s unshakable faith gave her strength. They never turned against each other—Twain never once raised his voice at Olivia, and she never once scolded him.
Twain was fiercely protective of her. When a close friend made a joke at Olivia’s expense, Twain nearly ended their friendship over it. And when Twain set off on a round-the-world tour at sixty, Olivia—knowing he needed constant care—left everything behind to accompany him.
For one of her birthdays, Twain wrote:
“Each day we spend together only strengthens my certainty that we will never regret intertwining our lives. With each passing year, I love you even more, my darling. Let us look forward—toward future anniversaries, toward growing old—without fear or sorrow.”
It was a love built on laughter, devotion, and deep understanding—a bond that remained unshaken until the very end.
Dear readers, here is to wish you love and fulfilment in life. May the pages of LiteraryVibes fill your days with joy and bliss, reminding you everyday that love is what binds life together - love of all kinds, love for a person, a book, art, music, nature and God's manifold creations. Let Valentine's message transcend all barriers and fill our lives with the zest for living, to find love in every breath, in soft whispers, beatific smiles or benign gestures. Life is a combination of many such experiences - a celebration of love in the very act of living.
Please share the riches of LV150 with all your friends and contacts through the following links:
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/581 (Poems and Book Review)
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/580 (Short Stories, Anecdotes and Travelogues) and
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/579 (Young Magic)
Hope you will enjoy the offerings in LV150, with the joys of spring reverberating in the air. Take care, stay safe, keep smiling till we meet again on 28th March with the 151st edition of LiteraryVibes.
With best wishes and warm regards
Mrutyunjay Sarangi
Editor, LiteraryVibes
Bhubaneswar, the 28th February, 2025
Table of Contents :: Poems
01) Prabhanjan K. Mishra
THE WILD MAN
02) Dilip Mohapatra
WHENEVER
03) Abani Udgata
MISERY
04) Snehaprava Das
THE BOX
05) Sujata Dash
THE SEASON OF LOVE
06) Pradeep Kumar Biswal
PARTING TIME
07) Asim Ranjan Parhi
AS TIME DRIFTS
08) Avantika Vijay Singh
THE HARVEST MOON
09) Sachit Mishra
MUGETSU
10) Sushree Gayatri Nayak
THE LUDO OF LIFE
ETERNAL MONUMENT IN FLEETING MOMENT
THE GHOSTLY PATH OF EXISTENCE
11) Pankhuri Sinha
SEA GARDEN CASCAIS
12) S. J. Sangeetha
DEADLY SPREAD “IVY AND MENDACITIES’’
13) G.S. Nair
THE INEVITABLE
14) Snigdhaa Promod
ILLUSION
15) Sulekha Sarkar
TO THE KNOWN STRANGER
16) Dr. Rekha Mohanty
THE SEED & COCOON
17) Dr. Paramita Mukherjee Mullick
BREAKFAST WITH THE STORKS
18) Leena Thampi
THE SUNK COST FALLACY
19) Dr R. S.Tewari
THE MORE...THE LESS...
RADIANT REALITY
NEMESIS AVENGES..
20) Bipin Patsani
FUSION
WASTEFUL WAYS
21) Hema Ravi
DEBRIS OF EVIL THOUGHTS
INTRUDER
22) Kunal Roy
THE FRAGRANCE OF LOVE
23) Sudipta Mishra
AN ODE TO THE RIVER DAYA
24) Ravi Ranganathan
MORNING CONTEMPLATION
25) Braja K Sorkar
IN SLEEP, OR DREAM
PERHAPS
26) Dr. Rajamouly Katta
MOTHER SOIL
THE AIR FOR ALL IS ONE
27) Matralina Pati
WHISPERS IN THE VOID
THE WOUNDED WING
BENEATH THE RUINS
28) Aneek Chatterjee
BURNING SMELL
29) Lopamudra Mishra
WORDS ARE FLOATING
30) Arpita Priyadarsini
FALLING APART
31) Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal
WITH YOUR GOING AWAY….
32) Ms Gargi Saha
CHANGING NATURE
WHY?
EXPECTATIONS
LIVING DIFFERENTLY
BEAUTY OF NATURE
33) Diptirekha Das
BEING HUMAN
34) Chaitrakana Pati
ROSES
PINNED BUTTERFLY
35) N. Rangamani
HAPPY 2025!!
36) Padmini Janardhanan
FLOW WITH THE FLOW
37) Tophan Khilar
THE CRUELTY OF TIME
38) Swatilekha Roy
MOTHER
39) Sreedharan Parokode
SHORT POEMS
40) Sukanya Kunju
BLOOMING LOVE
41) Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi
THE EMPTY TRAIN
Table of Contents :: Book Review
1) Pravat Kumar Padhy
TRANSLATING LIFE SKETCH INTO WORDS
Prabhanjan K. Mishra
No principles, no discipline
except his honesty, never steady
except standing by his words
like trees in the wild, gratefully biting the soil.
Restless, impatient, filled with a spirit
to go out, carve the world to shape,
that lay splintered, orphaned, uncared for,
unhewn stones, swamped mud.
Any food, any drink, hair held in a napkin,
the wind worn around ankles and a heart
fathomless, hands empty after
giving away everything, even the last copper.
Would there be a meal the next day?
Would his bed be quilted or the bare floor?
Would he sleep, even have time to doze
in a temple, dargah, church, or a burial yard?
We find in him our living God, he
honing men out of us, born beasts, devils;
begs for food, no complains, no guilt;
our unassuming Lord of small things.
Squatting on bare floor of his abode of crumbling ruins
he rolls cotton wicks for his earthen lamps
while, his mind grand-plans for his universe;
he, its unassuming arbiter, its saviour.
No gold coin, no shining metal,
rather a small coin much thumbed,
frequent and transient in passing from one
to another hand, facilitating peace and joy.
No Holy Ghost, no Allah, not a celestial pantheon god.
What use being distant, unfathomable, a God;
rather, he be like my next-door man, like my rice-plate,
my square meal, like the reed mat for my tired body.
(A tribute to Sai of Shirdi)
Prabhanjan K. Mishra is an award-winning Indian poet from India, besides being a story writer, translator, editor, and critic; a former president of Poetry Circle, Bombay (Mumbai), an association of Indo-English poets. He edited POIESIS, the literary magazine of this poets’ association for eight years. His poems have been widely published, his own works and translation from the works of other poets. He has published three books of his poems and his poems have appeared in twenty anthologies in India and abroad.
Dilip Mohapatra
The restless soul
hovering in search of a womb
while waiting in the queue
wonders when my turn
would come
and finally the time comes
and the body cocoons
over it and the wait is over
patience pays
whenever…
The queues never end
when one seems to end
another begins
queues after queues
queue up
your turn comes up
and your wait
begins once again
and your time comes
and you are ready
whenever…
While on your final leg
you join a funeral procession
to bid adieu
to your neighbour
in eternal rest
and you look ahead
and look back
to ascertain your place
in the queue…
… a whisper rings in your ears
take it easy my friend
your moment awaits
but hold on to your oars
let your boat drift
gently down the stream
just bask in the twilight
see life’s beauty unfolding
as the newborn sun smiles on you
and wait till your turn comes
whenever…
Dilip Mohapatra, a decorated Navy Veteran is a well acclaimed poet in contemporary English and his poems appear in many literary journals of repute and anthologies worldwide. He has seven poetry collections, one short story collection and two professional books to his credit. He is a regular contributor to Literary Vibes. He the recipient of multiple awards for his literary activities, which include the prestigious Honour Award for complete work under Naji Naaman Literary Awards for 2020. He holds the honorary title of ‘Member of Maison Naaman pour la Culture’. He lives in Pune and his email id is dilipmohapatra@gmail.com
Abani Udgata
Space.
Between two hillocks
Buzz with noises like
murmuration of birds.
Waves that swell & crash.
It is cold inside and so
Outside.
When can I call you?
If not now when snowdrops
paint the street white as death.
The distance will not go away.
Words meet as strangers on
the snow-covered street to
edge past with hats pulled down
against the sharp wind and sleet.
Munch, munch the oats
says the old man
to his dear mare…
To whom shall he tell his grief?
Abani Udgata lives in Bhubaneswar. Writes poems both in English and Odia. Udgata has been awarded in all-India poetry competitions and published in anthologies. He has been a regular contributor to LV. Email: abaniudgata@gmail.com
Snehaprava Das
Dr.Snehaprava Das, former Associate Professor of English, is an acclaimed translator of Odisha. She has translated a number of Odia texts, both classic and contemporary into English. Among the early writings she had rendered in English, worth mentioning are FakirMohan Senapati's novel Prayaschitta (The Penance) and his long poem Utkala Bhramanam, which is believed to be a.poetic journey through Odisha's cultural space(A Tour through Odisha). As a translator Dr.Das is inclined to explore the different possibilities the act of translating involves, while rendering texts of Odia in to English.Besides being a translator Dr.Das is also a poet and a story teller and has five anthologies of English poems to her credit. Her recently published title Night of the Snake (a collection of English stories) where she has shifted her focus from the broader spectrum of social realities to the inner conscious of the protagonist, has been well received by the readers. Her poems display her effort to transport the individual suffering to a heightened plane of the universal.
Dr. Snehaprava Das has received the Prabashi Bhasha Sahitya Sammana award The Intellect (New Delhi), The Jivanananda Das Translation award (The Antonym, Kolkata), and The FakirMohan Sahitya parishad award(Odisha) for her translation.
Sujata Dash
A fountain of romance and ecstasy
Sweeps me off my feet
At the gentle nudge of spring
Such is the power of the season
That, It brings back on one platter
all fond and intimate memories
I get goosebumps as the lousy sun
Cuddles my demeanor, Intoxicates with soft touch
appeases my soul and being
I would be lying if I don't admit
The titillating experiences of the season of love
Easing my creasing forehead entreating core
The unflagging emotions oozing out from
Inner chambers, drench me in pure love
Making some of my immortal dreams fruition
The trees drape themselves in gaudy ensembles
so do I, taking a cue from their sprightliness
as whispers of chaste promises fetch impish gratification
Frank desire to belong to the realm of love
Accentuates nubile allure
Elbowing out onslaughts of harsh winter
My home and hearth become alcoves of joy and laughter
I chant hymns of frisky life expunging unspoken hush
As the cherub arms of belief bet on perennial hope.
Sujata Dash is a poet from Bhubaneswar, Odisha. She is a retired banker.She has four published poetry anthologies(More than Mere-a bunch of poems, Riot of hues and Eternal Rhythm and Humming Serenades -all by Authorspress, New Delhi) to her credit.She is a singer,avid lover of nature. She regularly contributes to anthologies worldwide.
Pradeep Kumar Biswal
Every time
When someone departs
There's a void around
The wound reopens
The heart gets into pieces.
Lost memories
Sweet and sour
Surface from the past
I look back upon
Those days
With long sighs.
They turn to ashes
And vanish
Into thin air
I look towards the sky
To have glance
Of their celestial body.
Alas ! They never look back
And see us weeping
For them in grief
Their eternal journey
Leaves no space
For the mortals like us.
Mr. Pradeep Biswal is a bilingual poet writing both in Odia and English. His poems are widely anthologized. He is also an editor and translator of repute. A retired IAS Officer, Mr. Biswal presently holds the position of Member, Odisha Real Estate Regulatory Authority and stays with his family at Bhubaneswar. Views are Personal
Asim Ranjan Parhi
As time drifts and my continual suffering self holds breath
I repose some faith in the unsavoury words from you
And still survive
Its incremental onslaught and atavist silence
You have brought a sea change;
From my insane yet vital perception to
Some pretence about to burst.
This transformation was not easy, for
You had reined in by your chance visits
To my tender nerves that last on faith
But as Time passes,
My animal self that feels and feeds
Unleash torment, unearth and reads
Your time tested mood and its ghosting needs
I knew it was wise to walk during sleep
Than sleep the traumatic walks
Or live on curious untruth
Sepulchral curses and turbulent verses
I am set to enter the grave and finally set this self on fire
You live your settled goals
And be immortal
For in each death the undead dies often
By every inch
Surrounded by the dread and the living dead.
Asima Ranjan Parhi is Professor and Head, Department of English at Utkal University, Odisha. He was formerly the Dean, Faculty of Languages, Professor and Head of the Department of English at Rajiv Gandhi Central University, Arunachal Pradesh. Author of a book Indian English through Newspapers, Parhi has published a number of research papers in Translation Studies (CIIL), Indian Literature (Sahitya Akademi), Journal of English and Foreign Languages (EFLU), Studies in Humanities and Social Sciences (IIAS), International Journal of Multidisciplinary Thought, Journal of media and Communication Studies, a Monograph from Sahitya Akademi, book chapters in publications from Springer and Routledge. An Associate of Indian Institute of Advanced Study, Shimla, Parhi pursues an interest in ELT, Translation Studies and Children’s literature. Recently he has published an anthology of poems titled Of Sons and Fathers from Pakhsighara, Bhubaneswar. His forthcoming publications include an edited anthology on Gopinath Mohanty and Tales from Sarala Mahabharata in prose from Sahitya Akademi, New Delhi.
Avantika Vijay Singh
O Harvest Moon lustrous,
Immense and luminous,
With its halo of gold,
Shining light manifold.
Harvest moon
Heralding Autumn
Celebrating summer
Embracing a new season.
You are the Harvest moon…
In your life’s autumn
Celebrating summer
Embracing a new season.
Strangers were we
tossing upon life’s sea
till destiny played its part,
making me your daughter by heart.
Always considerate
and compassionate…
No demands traditional,
giving love, unconditional.
From you, I learned a time
simple and yet sublime…
Simplifying the complexity,
contentment in austerity.
You walk with your head high
under the big, blue sky,
with the courage to dare
a life of convictions rare.
And to the Harvest moon,
we owe deep gratitude
letting us harvest life’s crops
by her bright light
late into the night.
Avantika Vijay Singh is a communications professional, wearing the hats of a writer, editor, poet, researcher, and photographer. She has authored two solo anthologies, edited three anthologies, and has been published in national and international journals. She received the Nissim International Award Runner Up 2023, WE Gifted Poet 2024, and WE Illumination Award 2024.
Sachit Mishra
Let me drown in the shadows, my solace
Let me drown in the colours of the night;
You be the sun, the herald of dawn,
Let me be numb, with an aborted flight.
You wear the mask for the fawning race,
Surf through waves of cheers and grace,
But leave my heart to smoke this void,
Let the darkness melt my face.
I don’t yearn for this brazen light,
Let the murkiness in my veins fill,
Let me be my own empty self,
Tedious, yet authentic still.
Soak in the grandeur, be the Pied Piper,
Lead the wretched to a glorious lie,
But leave my demonic Steppenwolf to me,
Let me rest under the moonless sky.
Sachit Mishra is a PhD scholar at the Department of English, Utkal University. He is a published poet with numerous publications in the poetry column of Western Odisha Plus, a weekly newspaper affiliated to The Times of India. He is a passionate litterateur who tries to paint his experiences of the world in his verses.
Sushree Gayatri Nayak
Life is like a Ludo board.
Each colour represents a man.
The other three colours
Are the men whose opinions
We always care for.
The four tokens of a colour
Symbolize life’s four pillars:
Career, relationship,
Health, and spirituality.
The Ludo dice—
Much like the fate of life.
Unpredictable, uncontrollable.
Yet we can choose,
When to play each token.
The person who plays wisely,
With these four pillars,
Will emerge as the winner in life.
ETERNAL MONUMENT IN FLEETING MOMENT
Sushree Gayatri Nayak
The golden sand grains,
Slipping from the
Slender-waist hourglass.
Each grain holds a fleeting moment,
Holding the wisdom of patience,
The beauty of impermanence,
Marking life’s eternal pace.
Even the eternal, fleeting time
Is bound by the glass boundary,
Reminding us of mortal life—
Everything has a deadline,
To complete our tasks in time,
Given by God, divine.
As the last grain starts to fall,
It comes to the end, the final call,
Judging the soul—did it succeed?
Did it fail or meet the need?
But I am the free soul,
Beyond life’s control.
No glassy wall can hold me tight,
For I will break through, take flight.
Certainly, I will not be lost in the desert,
I will build my Pyramid of Egypt.
The monument will stand strong,
As an eternal symbol, lasting long.
It seems like an end, but in disguise,
A reminder that the end is wise.
For endings lead to new beginnings,
When we turn the glass upside down.
Sushree Gayatri Nayak
Life is like a haunted house—
Emotional and mysterious.
It looks like a palace at first,
Slowly reveals as an eternal trap.
There are rooms of joy,
And corners of sorrow.
Like unseen ghosts,
Destiny and God linger.
Some ghosts are memories,
Some ghosts are lessons,
And some are
Just passing shadows.
Your faith—
Like a flickering candle,
Guides you through the darkness.
And love is the fire
That warms the coldest places.
Like in a ghost story,
Only the bravest souls survive—
Those who believe, question,
And embrace the mystery.
Similarly, life is not
Just for wandering.
It’s all about—
Believing in the ghosts,
Listening to the echoes,
And learning from them.
Writing your own story
On the walls of the house.
Sushree Gayatri Nayak is a budding muse and poet from Odisha, India. Currently pursuing her studies in English literature at Utkal University, she channels her passion for love, nature, and current social issues into heartfelt poetry. Her verses weave emotional depth with thought-provoking reflections, capturing both personal experiences and broader societal concerns.
Pankhuri Sinha
The sight of a handsome
Most handsome dog
Unkept, Saliva dropping
looking faithfully for his
Past owner not another master
looking as in sniffing every nook and
Corner! With belief in hope
And a look of faith
Running up and down
The stretch of the beach
breaks my heart!
Breaks my heart
Even in the beauty of the
Portuguese Riviera!
But one has to always let go!
And allow momentarily
At least, to be drenched
Be swept by the waves bigger than oneself
Crashing around one 's tiny
Existence ! The dog continues and heavens
Be blessed , is greeted by
Other happy still owned dogs
for a moment his mouth is shut,
he wags his
Tail, once twice more!
A kiss almost happens!
Darkness standing on the
Horizon, after a glowing sunset, just got bearable!
But the evening pink will
Be gone, so will be this pet dog,
All others, vendors
Shopkeepers, and there
Will be the night, and dark
Sea crashing on the stones !
Ah! Such parting
Pain in such beauty divine!
I freeze on the ground
Can I do something?
Can anything be done?
How old is the strap on
Its neck !?????
The dog runs on looking!
Pankhuri Sinha is a bilingual poet, story writer and translator from India. Two poetry collections published in English, two story collections published in Hindi, six poetry collections published in Hindi, and many more are lined up. Has been published in many journals, anthologies, home and abroad. Has won many prestigious, national-international awards, like the Girija Kumar Mathur Award, Chitra Kumar Shailesh Matiyani Award, Seemapuri Times Rajeev Gandhi Excellence Award, First prize for poetry by Rajasthan Patrika, awards in Chekhov festival in Yalta and in Premio Besio Poetry competition in Italy, Sahitto award in Bangladesh, and Premio Galateo in Italy for poetry in mother tongue. Has been translated in over twenty seven languages.
She has studied in Delhi University, Symbiosis Pune, SUNY Buffalo, and the University of Calgary, Canada. She has worked in various positions as a journalist, lecturer and a content editor. Has done writing residencies in Hungary and Bulgaria, and attended the Tranas Literature Festival in Sweden.
DEADLY SPREAD “IVY AND MENDACITIES’’
S. J. Sangeetha
Scrolling silages like poison leaves unfurled
This viral brash that crawls across my world
Lowekey watching trends that itch and expand
Half-truth dancing in my head
Tiktok algorithms slay just like these lianas,
OneTouch can elicit what nobody defines
Hashtags scorching faster than skin’s reaction.
Instagram tales climbing wall to wall,
Fake news mutating-watch how gossips crawl
Each share hits dissimilar, each repost a bite
Collusion thrives bloom without a care
Diffusing roots of bedlam everywhere
No sieve blocks the venoms of this game
But listen up: this digital sickness
Twigs reaching like mulish social interactions that won’t quit
Nature’s defense mechanism copies my own shielding walls
Why do plants have more respect than teenage visions?
# Plant life untiringly lesson about consent and personal space
Roots mining deeper than my therapy sittings could explore
Each sore a testimony of boundaries ruthless crossed
Wilderness whispering secrets about survival and silent struggle
Autumn winds will strip these lethal links away
Learning that endurance isn’t about perfect defense, but revision
Poison ivy: nature’s unfiltered cue of resilient reality.
We’re all just growing, sometimes worryingly, sometimes exquisitely!
The Intersection of Life and Literature -S.J. Sangeetha, a Civil Engineer living a life dedicated to literature in her regional language Malayalam and in English. Has secured accolades including National level, State level and Regional-level awards and prizes. She is a flourishing author. Her key areas of writing include Poetry and Short story
G.S. Nair
Snigdhaa Promod
In a world of dreams we often tread,
Where shadows dance and thoughts misled.
The colours bright, the sounds so sweet,
Yet truth lies hidden beneath our feet.
We chase the light that flickers fast,
Holding onto moments that never last.
A whisper here, a fleeting glance,
In this grand illusion, we take our chance.
Crickets chirrup, lone lark sings,
As the night so dark brings-
A sense of fear fraught with peril
And a melancholy fought with evil.
Time machine ticks, the earth revolve
Dark cloud in the sky dissolves
There comes the rays of vision.
That may end the illusion
But when the dawn breaks after the night,
The veil is lifted; we see the light.
Reality calls with a gentle sigh,
Reminding us of the reasons why.
So let us wander but not forget,
That life is real; it’s no regret
For in each heartbeat and every breath,
We find our truth beyond the depth.
Sulekha Sarkar
Within these voids you gradually become God.
I too slowly crossed the
Baghayatin signal becoming versatile.
Today is a sad day,
Today I kept the marriage open in the
carvings of Ashwattha
Then I woke up on the train a little earlier
hearing "Krishna-Krishna".
Straight that tea shop
In the middle of the horizon has
narrowed down the GT Road.
I see you like a tired crow.
The person who has committed suicide
Knows the experience
So I slowly pack the sheets,
blankets, safety pins.
I silently tear off the sand
And the sun on the banks of the Ganges.
Dr. Rekha Mohanty
The most beautiful thing
in world is an intense feeling
that is nothing but love,
A seed beautifully perched in side wrapped in cocoon,
It lies dormant suffocated in darkness of night of new moon waiting to wake up
and smile like a full moon….
It needs elements
to grow for happiness
iIt is Infectious and contagious
It aspires careful nurturing
It desires to sprout
afraid of dying perilous,
Let the seed of love
be sprinkled by
water of love gently
Like silk cocoons
Seeds of Love are precious….
Not to abandon it
unattended and sullied,
Else the purpose of truth of life
would be a mystery unexplored ….
A trapped lonely love,
Unable to shake the blue,
Looks for a kind hand
to lift up and pull
and let it loose,
The love when mingled
with many is mighty
enormous and huge….
A disconsolate heart
is always in turmoil,
The seed lies abandoned
beneath the soil,
Let the love saunter
its path to arise
as love is eternal,
Let the dormant cocoon
break open
Let the beautiful love butterfly
reign the world
Let the tree of love sprawl….
Col( Dr) Rekha Mohanty is an alumni of SCB Medical College, Cuttack, Odisha and she has spent most of her professional life in military hospitals in peace and field locations and on high altitude areas.She has participated in Operation Vijay (Kargil war)in 1999 and was selected for UN missions in Africa for her sincere involvement in crisis management of natural calamities in side the country and abroad where India is asked to do so in capacity of head QRT in Delhi for emergency medical supplies.She had also participated in military desert operation
’ Op Parakram’ in Rajasthan border area.After relinquishing Army Medical Corps in 2009,she worked in Ex Servicemen Polyclinic in Delhi NCR and presently is working in a private multi-speciality hospital there to keep herself engaged.
Her hobby is writing poetry in English and Odia.She was writing for college journals and local magazines as a student in school.
Being a frequent traveler around the world,she writes travelogues.The writing habit was influenced by her father who was a Police Officer and used to write daily diary in English language he had mastered from school days in old time.Her mother was writing crisp devotional poems in Odia language and was an avid reader of Odia and Bengali books.Later her children and husband also encouraged.
Dr Rekha keeps herself occupied in free times for activities like painting, baking and playing card games the contract bridge.
She is a genuine pet lover and offers her services to animal welfare organisations and involves in rescue of injured stray dogs.Being always with pets at home since early childhood ,she gives treatment to other dogs in society when asked for in absence of a vet.She delivers talks on child and women health issues to educate the ladies in army and civil.
After sad demise of her husband Dr( Brig)B B Mohanty in February 2023,she devoted more time to writing and published her first poetry book’Resilient Leaf’in August 2023.Since then there is no stopping and she is going to publish her second book of poetry soon.
She enjoys reading E magazine LV , newspaper current affairs ,writing poetry and watching selected movies whenever she gets time.She keeps travelling places of interest in between for a change which is a passion as a girl since days roaming with parents and siblings .Her motto is to be happy by giving the best to self and to the society.She is lucky to have a supportive family.
Dr. Paramita Mukherjee Mullick
The grass was glistening in the sunlight.
Shadows of the leaves were playing hide and seek.
We sat at the table for breakfast in the open space.
Some white storks came and sat on the grass a little away from us.
Roaming, unperturbed and calm.
Their long beaks searching for food in the grass.
Walking up and down the grass lawn.
All five of the pristine white storks.
The waves of the sea nearby could be heard.
The tall palm trees shook their head in the breeze.
Breakfast was so different that day.
The storks beside us made it special in every way.
Dr. Paramita Mukherjee Mullick is a scientist, a national scholar transformed into a globally loved, award-winning poet. Her poems have been translated into 40 world languages and she has published 9 books. A globe trotter she loves calling herself a global citizen. Not only does she write poems but she promotes peace poetry, multilingual poetry, global poetry and passionately promotes indigenous poetry. Paramita believes that by promoting indigenous languages, she can bring some endangered languages into the main stream. In 2019, she got the Gold Rose from MS Production, Buenos Aires, Argentina for promotion of Literature and Culture. Apart from many awards like the Sahityan Samman in 2018, Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore award in 2019, Poetess of Elegance 2019 and many more she was one of the recipients of the prestigious Panorama International Literature award from Greece in 2022. Paramita is the President and Initiator of the Mumbai Chapter of the Intercultural Poetry and Performance Library (IPPL) and also the Cultural Convenor and Literary Coordinator (West India) of the International Society for Intercultural Studies and Research (ISISAR).
Leena Thampi
Born in Jammu and brought up in Delhi ,Leena Thampi is an articulate writer who's lost in her own little epiphanies and she gives them life with her quill. She's an author extraordinaire with four books to her credit -"Rhythms of a Heart", "Autumn Blaze" , An Allusion To Time' and Embers to Flames.
She has many articles published in India and abroad. She has received many elite accolades from different literary platforms worldwide.She has been awarded by Gujarat Sahitya Academy and Motivational Strips twice for her best contribution towards literature in the year 2021 and 2022.She was also the recipient of Rabindranath Tagore Memorial literary honours 2022 by Motivational Strips.
Her work mixes luminous writing, magical realism, myths, and the hard truths of everyday life.
Besides her flair for writing and deep-rooted love for music, she is an Entrepreneur,Relationship and life coach,specialised in child psychology.She is also a dancer and actor. She is currently working on her fifth book which is a collection of short stories.
Dr R. S.Tewari
Dr R. S.Tewari
Dr R. S.Tewari
Dr R. S.Tewari 'Shikhresh' is a retired Assistant Director(O.L.)from Govt of India ,awarded by Honourable President of India,Honourable Governor of Uttarakhand and U.P.,Honourable State Home Minister (Govt of India) for commendable work in Official Language of the country is an M.A.( English Literature ,Hindi Lit. Philosophy ),PG Dip.(Translation and Journalism )and Ph.D.in Philosophy of Religion ,
Dr Tewari to his credit has 23 books of English verses,Hindi verses,books on Official Language and English Grammar.He has delivered more than five hundred lectures in various workshops on various topics.He has written more than a dozen of reviews of books in Hindi and English. Having started his career as an English teacher ,Dr Tewari worked as a Translation Officer, Hindi Pradhyapak and Assistant Director (Official Language) in Income -tax Dept.He has also served as a Consultant, Officilal Language and Communication in a training Centre of the ministry of MSME.
He has also worked in the Departments of Philosophy and Journalism in Agra University as a visiting faculty for a short span. Presently, he is a Visiting Faculty in the distance cell of D E I Deemed University, Dayalbagh ,Agra (UP),India.
Bipin Patsani
Love in its totality envelops all.
Love redeems us
from all other awareness and extremes
and one enjoys the bliss of the divine
feeling complete in the fusion.
What oozes then
in the vibrant valley of the soul
is the creative cream
of emotional orgasm that flows
in its sublime sense of rhythm.
The bare dare nakedness
of innocent acceptance and merger
is love in its finest form
sans inhibition and restraint.
Both loving and the loved ones support
one another in all angles, entwined
in both practical and poetic plain.
Perhaps it’s what Krishna meant
in his pious passionate pranks
in the mesmerizing waters of the Yamuna
when he pleaded with the shy sirens
to shed unwanted awareness.
Bipin Patsani
Strange is the place
where innovative ideas are laughed at,
wisdoms ignored
and people enjoy cheap taunts
and fake propaganda,
eccentric in their amusement.
Crazy for power,
self-righteous politicians blame
and belittle their opponents
in their bid to rise
accusing one another
in their campaign cries.
Parasites are so loose
that they feel proud of their clouts
with the big sorts, bereft of values.
Sycophancy is the ladder
they artfully use.
The hungry helpless wretches
are left to fondle their fate,
while many of us poets
relish to be in lovesick solitude,
scribbling sweet nothings,
the moonstruck minds marvel at.
Bipin Patsani (b. 1951) has published poems in many prestigious journals and poetry anthologies including Indian Literature, Chandrabhaga, Journal of Indian Writing in English, Indian Scholar, Kavya Bharati, Poetcrit, International Poetry and Prophetic Voices etc. He has been translated to Spanish and Portuguese. He has three poetry collections to his credit (VOICE OF THE VALLEY, ANOTHER VOYAGE and HOMECOMING). He is a recipient of Michael Madhusudan Academy Award/ 1996 and Rock Pebbles National Award in 2018. He did his Post Graduation in English at Ravenshaw College, Cuttack in 1975 and served as a teacher in Arunachal Pradesh for 34 years till his superannuation in 2012. He also received Arunachal Pradesh State Government’s Award in 2002 for his dedicated service as a teacher. He lives with his family at Barunei Colony, Badatota in Khordha District of Odisha, India.
Hema Ravi
I want to awake to the tunes of the song birds
who are still on their migratory paths.
I wish to gaze at the glistening dew of
the new morn that transcend dreary winter nights.
All around, the stony silence of the ‘pancake’ collapse,
heart throbs with reverberating aftershocks.
Globus sensation intensifies, the ghastly scene erupts;
home, no longer; it’s a death trap.
In nearby lands, death and destruction wrought
by powerhouses of callousness; swelling sorrows
and bleak tomorrows. The depressed and the dying
murmur - why is the Universe conspiring against us?
Amidst mundane goals, let us appreciate relationships
and gather that surrendering all evil thoughts
Is the first step to immortality in this exigent world…
Hema Ravi
In bright yellows, pinks and mauves,
they smiled in splendorous radiance.
The gentle sun gazed; a passing breeze nudged them to nod.
I stood staring at one such beauty
A subtle perfume further stilled
the wandering thoughts.
Hey, what's this buzz?
A black bee busying
itself with the morning chores...
Soon,
colourful butterflies come along for
a tango and a gentle kiss..
Women with loads atop their heads pass by, letting a shy smile.
They've no time to pause, the construction site's still a mile away.
Pretty azaleas!
A voice startled me.
It was an old lady, walking her dog.
She bid goodbye, soon went past.
The black bee, not too happy,
buzzed over my head a few times...
Hold it, buddy!
Let me get a snap shot at least.
Ouch! A pin-prick sting, I had
to dart off to a safer haven.
As for the blossoms, they
still linger in my heart.
Hema Ravi is a poet, author, reviewer, editor (Efflorescence), independent researcher and resource person for language development courses... Her writings have been featured in several online and international print journals, notable among them being Metverse Muse, Amaravati Poetic Prism, International Writers Journal (USA), Culture and Quest (ISISAR), Setu Bilingual, INNSAEI journal and Science Shore Magazine. Her write ups and poems have won prizes in competitions.
She is the recipient of the Distinguished Writer International Award for excellence in Literature for securing the ninth place in the 7th Bharat Award, conducted by www.poesisonline.com. In addition, she has been awarded a ‘Certificate of Appreciation’ for her literary contributions by the Gujarat Sahitya Academy and Motivational Strips on the occasion of the 74th Independence Day (2020) and again. conferred with the ‘Order of Shakespeare Medal’ for her writing merit conforming to global standards.(2021). She is the recipient of cash prizes from the Pratilipi group, having secured the fourth place in the Radio Romeo Contest (2021), the sixth place in the Retelling of Fairy Tales (2021), the first prize in the Word Cloud competition (2020) and in the Children’s Day Special Contest (2020). She scripted, edited, and presented radio lessons on the Kalpakkam Community Radio titled 'Everyday English with Hema,' (2020) a series of lessons for learners to hone their language skills. Science Shore Magazine has been featuring her visual audios titled ‘English Errors of Indian Students.’
A brief stint in the Central Government, then as a teacher of English and Hindi for over two decades, Hema Ravi is currently freelancer for IELTS and Communicative English. With students ranging from 4 to 70, Hema is at ease with any age group, pursues her career and passion with great ease and comfort. As the Secretary of the Chennai Poets’ Circle, Chennai, she empowers the young and the not so young to unleash their creative potential efficiently
Kunal Roy
14 February anew,
Kunal Roy has always been an ardent lover of literature. He has received various awards for his literary contributions. He is a poet and a critic of poetry. His works have been published both here and abroad. Currently working as an Assistant Professor of English Language and Communication in George Group of Colleges, Kolkata.
Sudipta Mishra
Oh, dear brook,
Thou hast seen the bloodiest war of the world
You have cried
at the flow of blood!
You carry the blood stain with you
An unseen and untreated wound
Though you daily clash with a crowd
Nobody seems to be trapped in your lofty story
But I have felt your pain
The pain that has been given by history
Down the memory lanes,
You have secretly stored your untold injury
Oh, you hold the mighty prowess
To alter the mind of the great Emperor Ashoka
Oh, river, you are the messenger of peace
To watch you flowing beneath the Dhauli Hill is bliss.
Oh, the echoes of your painful murmur
I can hear, I can hear, oh, my dear river
So strong you breathe like an endless source of eternity
You are here to transform us with the pearl of your purity!!!
Sudipta Mishra is a multi-faceted artist and dancer excelling in various fields of art and culture. She has co-authored more than a hundred books. Her book, 'The Essence of Life', is credited with Amazon's bestseller. Her next creation, 'The Songs of My Heart' is scaling newer heights of glory. Her poems are a beautiful amalgamation of imagery and metaphors. She has garnered numerous accolades from international organizations like the famous Rabindranath Tagore Memorial, Mahadevi Verma Sahitya Siromani Award, an Honorary Doctorate, and so on. She regularly pens articles in newspapers as a strong female voice against gender discrimination, global warming, domestic violence against women, pandemics, and the ongoing war. She is pursuing a Ph.D. degree in English. Her fourth book, Everything I Never Told You is a collection of a hundred soulful poems. Currently, she is residing in Puri.
Ravi Ranganathan
Gently now the light of day
Unwraps the mystic darkness.
Free from sleep my mind finds a way
To commune with the Cosmos.
Soon I know this mood will vanish
And I to the mundane shall concede and perish.
Before I yield to my chronic infirmity
Let me dwell for a while on the high
And let my thoughts float cursively
And fly sleekly rarefied to the sky
A deep, decisive urge to dwell in Thee
Before they are unthreaded and I am all at sea.
What better time can we in sublime dwell
Than this divine, unique, blessed hour
When the day is yet to unleash its shell
And reveal the pain of its punishing power!
Let me allow this soar to pass in this phase
And pump strength to bear what the day might unleash!
Ravi Ranganathan is a writer, critic and a poet from Chennai. Also a retired banker. He has to his credit three books of poems titled “Lyrics of Life” and “Blade of green grass” and “Of Cloudless Climes”. He revels in writing his thought provoking short poems called ‘ Myku’. Writes regularly for several anthologies. His awards include recognition in "Poiesis award for excellence" of Poiesisonline, Sahitya Gaurav award by Literati Cosmos Society, Mathura and’ Master of creative Impulse ‘award by Philosophyque Poetica. He contributes poems for the half yearly Poetry book Metverse Muse . He writes regularly for the monthly webzine “ Literary Vibes” and “ Glomag”.He is the Treasurer of Chennai Poets’ Circle.
Braja K Sorkar
An abstract painting, hanging on the front wall for a long time.
On the south wall are two Dolphins playing in the sea.
On the west wall is Gustav Klimt's Kissing Couple.
The north wall mine was empty for so long, now there
A medullary image of a large building has taken its place.
All over the walls are sleeping ideas of art.
Today I think I have to wake him up,
when he wakes up I will wake up.
But I was sleeping for so long!
Even in sleep, I am awake all the time,
seeing various scenes of an unfamiliar world.
In sleep, or dream! I don't even recognize myself.
It feels like someone else, it feels
like someone else is playing me.
Braja K Sorkar
Everything seems strange.
This is something I'm sitting on
I will write, thoughts will be printed on different papers,
translation will be a reflection of implicit thoughts!
Just turn your eyes to the wall
See all gone.
Drenched in intense heat goes on,
the color of my consciousness is melting.
Gradually I became a stranger,
going from within to a new possibility…
Perhaps, it's raining somewhere!
Braja K Sorkar is a bilingual author, poet, Essayist, and Translator. 10 Titles have beenpublished in his credit and a highly acclaimed poetry collection in English, titled ‘ Syllables of Broken Silence(2021) for which he received ‘The Indology Award’(2021). He has edited a prestigious literary magazine in Bengali ‘Tristoop’ since 2001 and an International English literary journal’ Durgapur Review’ since 2023. He edited an International Anthology of World English Poetry, titled’ Voices Now: World Poetry Today’ (2021). His poems have been translated into many languages. He lives in Durgapur, West Bengal. Contact: email: brajaksorkar369@gmail.com. And brajakumar.sarkar@gmail.com Whats App: 9064231839
Dr. Rajamouly Katta
soil is not just material
but mother of high stature
with her love in affluence
to grow in glow,
comely and motherly
for creatures as a life-treasure,
lovely green earth for mirth,
a special gift of nature as an offer
to her offsprings as mother.
no life sans mother soil.
shines one green in sheen,
flora, plethora of variety,
nature of beauty in plenty
seeds like foetuses from the womb,
sprout for exuberant growth
when mother soil offers moisture,
allows every seed to grow to a tree,
its roots to go deep into its heart,
standing straight and stiff in grip
to render their service to creatures.
motion is life, life is motion
motion as creation
as wonders for splendours
mother soil allows the foetus for birth
from her womb to flourish
living in motion with instinct or insight,
creation, fauna to live on flora
mother soil is one for all
in relentless service
sans expecting anything in return.
Dr. Rajamouly Katta
unheard when it is in flow
everywhere to everyone
heard when it is in blow
the air for all is one,
life in breath, life in motion,
life in tune, life in tone
the gift of the air for all alone.
the air spreads communication
tune and perfume in every direction.
plays music when enters bamboo holes,
flutes for sonorities to delight to the full.
the air is majestic for its magic
allows no vacuum as it occupies space.
the air is one but heard in varieties:
the breeze is in grace to please,
twigs move and flowers dance,
lovers are thrilled by its gentle blows.
the wind in blow is heard,
trees toss their heads in discomfort,
the storm is severe to ruffle
flora and fauna in shuffle.
the gale is to disturb and disrupt,
everything in disorder,
the hurricane is to spoil,
boats capsize, sailors find no paths,
for tears in smile or tears in trouble.
like water in flow, the air is to blow,
for life to glow, delight seen on the brow
sans the air, life feels breathless,
creatures are lifeless,
the air is one for all alone.
Dr. Rajamouly Katta, M.A., M. Phil., Ph. D., Professor of English by profession and poet, short story writer, novelist, writer, critic and translator by predilection, has to his credit 64 books of all genres and 344 poems, short stories, articles and translations published in journals and anthologies of high repute. He has so far written 3456 poems collected in 18 anthologies, 200 short stories in 9 anthologies, nine novels 18 skits. Creative Craft of Dr. Rajamouly Katta: Sensibilities and Realities is a collection of articles on his works. As a poet, he has won THIRD Place FIVE times in Poetry Contest in India conducted by Metverse Muse rajamoulykatta@gmail.com
Matralina Pati
There are whispers strung through the void,
Faint murmurs too elusive to name,
Echoes of paths worn beneath time’s weight.
They speak, but their language
Dissolves like mist in the wind—
Ephemeral, retreating
To the edges of unlit horizons.
I strain to listen,
But their riddles unravel into silence.
And in the void's hollow breath,
No answer stirs,
Only shadows that slip further
Into the unseen abyss.
Matralina Pati
Once, you ruled the infinite skies,
Each wingbeat a hymn
To freedom’s boundless embrace.
Now you are tethered,
Earthbound and brittle,
Clutching gravity like a sacred wound.
I see you wrestle with the ruins,
Yearning to rise once more,
But the heavens turn away,
And the winds, indifferent now,
Deny your name its rightful song.
Matralina Pati
I sift through these ruins,
Fragments of what once soared,
Entombed in the ash of forgotten days.
Each shard is a riddle,
A silent witness to time’s erasure.
Among the rubble,
I find splinters of myself,
Lost alongside all else,
And I pause to wonder:
Was it answers I sought,
Or the comfort of asking,
Even in the absence of reply?
Matralina Pati, is a PhD research scholar working on marginal Indian bhasha literature (UGC Junior Research Fellow), a bilingual poet and a translator from Bankura, West Bengal. Her critical and creative writings have been published on national and international platforms. She has authored a book of translations titled Monsoon Seems Promising This Year (selected poems of postmodern poet Rudra Pati translated from Bengali into English).
Aneek Chatterjee
Long ago, I burnt my effigy
on a winter evening.
But still I get the burning smell,
in winters, summers and in rains.
I travelled to heavy rains and
begged to douse the flame
Fire only laughed, inside my
frozen, air-conditioned chamber.
Aneek Chatterjee is a poet and academic from Kolkata, India. He has published more than six hundred poems in reputed literary magazines and poetry anthologies across the globe. He authored 17 books including five poetry collections titled, “Seaside Myopia” (Cyberwit, 2018), “Unborn Poems and Yellow Prison” (Cyberwit, 2019), “Of Ashes and Persiflage” (Hawakal, 2020), “Archive Avenue” (Cyberwit, 2022) and "Last Evening Was A River" (Penprints, 2024). He also co-edited the “Poetry Conclave Year Book 2022” (Authors Press, 2022). A Pushcart Prize nominee, Dr. Chatterjee also received the prestigious “Alfredo Pasilono Memorial Panorama International Literary Award 2023”. He was a Fulbright Visiting faculty at the University of Virginia, USA and a recipient of the ICCR Chair (Govt. of India) to teach abroad. His poetry has been archived at Yale University. He can be reached at: akchatjee@gmail.com
Lopamudra Mishra
Words are floating
It seems words of mine has taken rest
I want to express my thoughts
But words flow in a different row
It seems my feelings want to have a better form
But words come in a dismantle shape
Becomes tough for me to gather and put those to a proper shape
Words have the power of riding horse
Very true ,the gigantism of words
Needs a balanced space
Adequate sunshine
Ample wind
A wet grass field
For its growth and prosperity
Words are conscientious of their prosperity
Needs to nurture
Like a gem
Like the seasoning cake
Like the marble cathedral to spread their fame
It seems my words has taken shelter inside the dome
Vacuum among the words
Emptiness inside me
Is causing darkness in its route
So I am not getting befitting words for display
In a half sleep state I am searching for the words
Of my own which used to boggle me day and nights
With the dreams of roses
With the beauty of lotus
With the fragrance of serene jasmine
So ,If ever words will follow my heart and mind
I will ,with respect and adoration
Will try to give justice to it in my inscriptions.
Lopamudra Mishra, a contemporary poet, author, translator and editor, hails from Bhubaneswar, Odisha. Her writings are intended to touch the inner chord softly by emphasizing on "Sense and Sensibility" of attachment and bonding. She has six books till date in her name- “Rhyme of Rain”, “First Rain”,” Tingling Parables”, “Rivulet of Emotions” and “Red Tulips” . Her sixth book, “Hurricane Heart under the Honeyed Sky” is on the way. Her poems have been published in various magazines and anthologies. She has been Editor of Radical Rhythm-4 & Co-editor of Radical Rhythm Series and Durga.
Arpita Priyadarsini
You look at them
Until the last word
They've uttered to you
Pierce right through your heart
And brings you
A range of massacre
That moves all around you
Reminding you
That you're nothing
But a non-existent particle
That has lost it's way
Somewhere between
The chaos and the peace
You rummage through
The old pages of your diary
To find a trace of their fragrance
Entangled with the smoothness
Of your half torn skin
And try to decipher it
In as many ways as possible
Cause the last time
You held them back
With all your serenity
Was an automatic invitation
To the rivulets of pain
Which are still flowing
In the corners of your veins
You've been a home
To the vagabond
Yet all they did
Was to rip
Every inch out of you
Just to rename
this place called home
After their own entity
You look into their cavernous eyes
And all you see
Is your existence
Being an anonymous attendance
In the telepathic world
Of their delusional self
Where moving from one place to another
Is nothing but just a matter of second
Your mind constantly plays
The last song
That you've heard with them
Before they're long gone
Leaving the ashtray
Full of memories and pledges
You look into the stars
And see the one star
That you've named after them
Falling into a never ending oblivion
And you laugh
Laugh at your own stupidity
Of naming people
After the stars
Arpita Priyadarsini, I`m currently working under Home department, Government of Odisha, has keen interest in literature. She loves reading fiction and poetry. She started writing poems few years back and has been published by an international publication house twice. Her Instagram handle is @elly__.writes, which is solely dedicated to her love for poetry.
Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal
Your going away, with no prospect of
coming back ever,
aggravated my misery and the pain,
taking no name to go away.
With your going away, I felt
the tyranny of their intrusive presence,
doing all they could to
make my present dark
with little prospect of a future bright.
They conspired to make me fall, never to rise again
obviating possibility of gathering strength
to take the bull by the horns.
Admittedly, it made me down
for a while, but
not downright out.
They washed off the Sindoor
from my head,
the line of ember with unbound love,
going and growing deeper every single day
that marked me as yours
and filled our lives with warmth.
That line of vermilion, ordinary to many
is no writing by a chalk on a blackboard
and a duster erasing it,
but a thing engraved on a stone
with ingrained freedom bequeathed
to overcome any impending adversity.
They removed the bangles
whose soft tinkle mesmerized you,
that lulled into sleep at night;
that tinkled to make you awake in the morn.
They used the weight of their heavy hand
to remove the bindi, the red orb
that sparkled like a tiny sun,
bedazzling you causing distraction
and setting all your worries at rest.
The hard time is now
water under the bridge.
And they, subjecting me to the ignominy of their cruelty
purged me of my impurities
giving strength to stand against
all odds and keep my chin up.
I have moved up the place
that I stood on the edge of time once
caught up between two worlds—
of hope and hopelessness.
I look forward to meeting you soon
with the tinkling of my bangles,
as the wind will be passing by
and the Sindoor on my head glowing.
Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal, after teaching English language and literature for more than thirty five years in different colleges of Odisha, retired as an Associate professor. Passionate in reading poetry, intermittently, he has been writing poetry since his college days.1996 to1999 was his most fertile period when his Odia poems were published in almost all Odia dailies as well as in most of the Odia magazines. Also he writes English poems. He has authored The Fictional Transfiguration of History in the Novels of Salman Rushdie, Amitav Ghosh and Rohinton Mistry. Besides, he has edited Prananath Patnaik:A purveyor of Egalitarianism Currently, he is engaged in writing reviews of the poetry collections of the new poets who write in English.
Ms Gargi Saha
Deserts run to oceans
Blue waters turn green
If eternal, transient nature changes its laws?
Then what of piffling humans?
Ms Gargi Saha
Why does apartheid exist?
Hatred, antagonism, murders
Why exists class, caste conflicts?
Evil, wrath, envy
When will prevail absolute tranquillity in the world?
Goodness and rays of hope?
To overcome myriad barriers
In the path of life.
Ms Gargi Saha
Expectations bring desires
Desires wrap in greed
Greed invites misery
Can we extinguish the fires of cravings?
To attain blissful serenity everywhere?
Ms Gargi Saha
Two words of love
Two words of mercy
Two words of kindness
Two words of sympathy
Two promises to keep
Blessings to shower
Helps the emaciated prosper
And makes the world
A better place to live in
So much different it would be
If there was no hatred
No hostility, enmity, revenge
Wars, bloodshed, deaths
Let there be peace here and above
I pray for a Heaven on earth.
Ms Gargi Saha
I like to hear
The buzzing bees
The chirping birds
The croaking frogs
The gently flowing rivers
The rustling of the trees
The ocean’s roaring
Different sounds of nature
And noises of the human world
The honking of the cars, buses, trams
Factories emitting fumes of gases
Crackers bursting loudly
Makes a lot of difference
We should not forget to listen to our inner voices
Amidst myriad noises………
Ms Gargi Saha is a creative writer and has published two poem books namely, 'The Muse in My Salad Days ', and 'Letters to Him '.Her poems have been featured in National and International Journals. She has received the Rabindranath Tagore Memorial Award and the Independence Day Award for poetry. Presently she edits several scientific research papers. She can be reached at gargi.paik@gmail.com
Diptirekha Das
“I understand ” simply carries a lot.
To comfort your worries
To console your woes.
Coming from others
Like a soft patting.
That now your problems are not going unheard .
The phrase has it’s own compassionate ways
To show you that soft concern.
Irrespective of known, unknowns.
It really doesn’t matter
Who holds that for you ?
But it’s the genuine care
You've ever got all of a sudden.
At times, in your ocean of relations
You might have to struggle.
But you never know
A stranger may have got all your answers,
In your world of chaos.
Now more often humanity hardly shows up.
Listening to others seems out of fashion.
Still millions are out there
In the need of that little concern, the urge
Don’t we think ?
Being Human is the least thing to be done…
Diptirekha Das is a postgraduate in Economics from Utkal University hailing from Bhubaneswar. She is an active blogger & a bilingual poetess writing in Odia and English language. She has a great passion for literature. She has contributed towards many national & international anthologies. Few of her articles also published in many social platforms.
Chaitrakana Pati
O, Red Flower that grows whenever
With beautiful petals and strong scent that takes away
My common sense.
You are beautiful and nice to grow, but why is it so hard to watch
You go?
True, you have made me bleed with your thorns,
I still heavily mourn
To see you wilt slowly, and watch your petals fall,
I wonder if I did anything right at all.
I feel your spiky vines grow around
My arms and dig into my skin.
Through my neck the vines reach my brain
Yet, I do not feel pain.
More vines grow from you and attack my chest
And tug at my heart that still beats.
My stomach feels heat,
My whole body bleeds
Yet, I do not weep.
In my garden you grew, bloomed…you were there.
You knew you were doomed,
And would no longer be here.
But…
I have your branches, they will grow in your soil
I will water them better with no fail.
I am a gardener who gardens,
You are the plant that grows;
I take in the entire burden
Yet, I love you ever so.
Chaitrakana Pati
You and your siblings were simple, small eggs on a leaf,
Your mothers died the same day,
Someone you would never know or meet.
You were all hatched and became caterpillars,
You all shared one dream.
Butterfly! Butterfly!
You were both young and brittle,
So stubborn to stay alive!
You talk too little,
You do what you must
To survive.
For you growing up is eating everything you have ever seen,
You struggle so hard that you need more to eat, and you wonder
What the pain inside you truly means! Someday ever
Will you leave your dreams?!
Butterfly! Butterfly!
You knew you had to like your brothers and sisters.
You knew if anything went wrong you would die.
You knew you could not stay behind:
It was the wish of your mother.
You form your cocoon:
Is it too soon?
Butterfly! Butterfly!
Within darkness your limbs dissolve, and your body changes.
Yet everything is painless!
Months pass yet time is something you cannot tell.
You wonder if your siblings are well!
One day your cocoon cracks,
There are wings on your back!
Butterfly! Butterfly!
You are as clumsy as a beetle who flies,
Your mind is as sharp as a wasp.
You are not the best but at least you try.
You live on nectar like a bee,
You have so many eyes with which you see.
Butterfly! Butterfly!
You got caught in a net, you could not escape.
Is it really too late?!
Your wings fascinate over the ones who caught you
And they pin you down
For everyone to see
Some believe you are beautiful, some feel pity.
Did you at least enjoy your fly?
Butterfly! Butterfly!
Chaitrakana Pati, a student of the 10th standard, finds joy in expressing herself through poetry in English. She has a deep appreciation for literature and a quiet passion for painting, both of which inspire her creative journey. Alongside her love for the arts, she enjoys music and has a keen interest in storytelling. She loves nature and enjoys exploring new spheres of knowledge. With a curious mind and a thoughtful approach to creativity, she continues to explore and learn as she hopes to grow as a writer and an artist along the way.
N. Rangamani
N. Rangamani, a resident of Chennai, graduated from IIT Madras; superannuated after more than thirty-five years of service in (Aircraft Maintenance) Aviation. He has revived his writing passion post retirement. He likes to write and puts it to action, sometimes. He writes in Tamil and English. Contact: rangkrish@gmail.com
Padmini Janardhanan
Flowing with the flow we go
We, no paper boats though
A stone hits, the paperboat sinks
A wind blows, the paper boat turns
A stone hits, we pick it, throw it away
A wind blows, we steer to our goal anyway
No paper boats you and I
Sentient, volitional
We move on purposeful
To our cherished goal
In sync with the weather dancing
In common peril holding each other
For love of life swimming together
The Comfort of being together
The fury of the storm
Forging love bonds
Storms' rage – Man's resilience
Rage versus resilience
After the storm has gone
The dance is still on
Transience versus permanence.
Padmini Janardhanan is an accredited rehabilitation psychologist, educational consultant, a corporate consultant for Learning and Development, and a counsellor, for career, personal and family disquiets.
Has been focussing on special education for children with learning difficulties on a one on one basis and as a school consultant for over 4 decades. The main thrust is on assessing the potential of the child and work out strategies and IEPs (Individual Educational Plans) and facilitating the implementation of the same to close the potential-performance gap while counselling the parents and the child to be reality oriented.
Has been using several techniques and strategies as suitable for the child concerned including, CBT, Hypnotherapy, client oriented counselling, and developing and deploying appropriate audio-visual / e-learning materials. Has recently added Mantra yoga to her repository of skills.
She strongly believes that literature shapes and influences all aspects of personality development and hence uses poetry, songs, wise quotations and stories extensively in counselling and training. She has published a few books including a compilation of slokas for children, less known avathars of Vishnu, The what and why of behaviour, and a Tamizh book 'Vaazhvuvallampera' (towards a fulfilling life) and other material for training purposes.
Tophan Khilar
Yesterday, I prayed to God above,
For more time to spend with my love.
But this fleeting time is never enough,
To behold her as my heart dreams of.
He laughed at me, hearing my plea,
Said, "Time won’t change for you or she.
It flows the same steady and slight,
Learn to embrace it, make things right."
Yet still, I beg, for time to bend,
To ease my burdens, to let me mend.
And if it won't, then let it cease,
For this existence grants no peace.
Had I more time, my love would shine,
She asks for nothing, just hand in mine.
To hold her close, to never stray,
To keep her near, not fade away.
But time is cruel—it builds a wall,
Between my heart and her soft call.
I try to leave, yet always remain,
Rising once more, whispering her name.
Swatilekha Roy
You wanted to live, Mother, you wanted to survive
The glory of clinging to life, even in death
Was destined for you, but where did it go?
Like a seven-month-old fetus, you left unfinished
You left behind the medicine box, the nightie
The dirty comb, the new sandals
Everyone has forgotten their resentment
Only our tear-stained faces remain
As the morning rush passes over us
You left in the morning, Mother
Swatilekha Roy , She is a bilingual poet,Lecturer ,F.A degree College ,Cachar Assam.She is creative and passionate nature photographer too
Sreedharan Parokode
P.L.Sreedharan Parokode is a bi-lingual poet and lyricist from Malappuram district, Kerala. He has a Master's degree in English literature and Population Studies and a Post Graduate Diploma in Parental Education. Sreedharan has thirty books of poetry to his credit, including 'Weeping Womb', 'Slum Flowers,'Mahatma Gandhi' 'Nelson Mandela',Poems', 'Don't mum Please' etc. He has also written songs for professional dramas, for albums, songs for competitions, devotional songs etc. He has written songs for animation film also.
Sreedharan has attended various literary conferences in India and abroad. He presented his poems at World Congress of Poets, in Taiwan, 2015, China, 2018, and literary conference in Serbia, 2007.
He has received awards and honours from various organisations, such as, Sahitya shree Award, Sahitya Shiromani Award, Shan E Adab Award etc. He has also received an Hony.Doctorate from the World Academy of Art and Culture
Sreedharan is currently engaged in Doctoral Research in Population Studies from Annamalai University. Earlier he was working in the Administrative wing of the University of Calicut.
Sukanya Kunju
Sukanya V Kunju is a postgraduate in English language and literature from St.Michaels College, Alappuzha. Most of her poems have been published in Literary Vibes. She is an aspiring poet. She is the co-author of the book Dusk and Dawn.
Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi
Deep inside my core
where a train engine moves all the time
with a bevy of empty bogeys
and a trail of deafening roar,
I carry loads of memories of green mountains,
the open sky and the blue sea.
There were days in the past
when the bogies were so full
with smiling men and women sipping tea.
Young boys and girls holding hands
gazing out, lost in their dreams,
Little children running around
chirping like happy birds,
Hostesses in dazzling blue,
serving cookies and lemonade,
and blushing on being complimented
on their virginal beauty.
Over the years everyone got down,
leaving a trace of sweet melancholy,
of vanishing songs and silent melodies,
the pantry car has no more lemonade,
the dining car is deserted.
Ah! only if the noise could stop
and the engine stood still,
I could lean on the railings
and look at the abyss of time
with melting eyes and silent sighs.
Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi is a retired civil servant and a former Judge in a Tribunal. Currently his time is divided between writing poems, short stories and editing the eMagazine LiteraryVibes . Four collections of his short stories in English have been published under the title The Jasmine Girl at Haji Ali, A Train to Kolkata, Anjie, Pat and India's Poor, The Fourth Monkey. He has also to his credit nine books of short stories in Odiya. He has won a couple of awards, notably the Fakir Mohan Senapati Award for Short Stories from the Utkal Sahitya Samaj. He lives in Bhubaneswar.
TRANSLATING LIFE SKETCH INTO WORDS
Pravat Kumar Padhy
“From Breath to Words” by Don Baird, Lulu Publications, 2023, ISBN: 978-1-312-37377-8
The collection “From Breath to Words” by Don Baird metamorphoses the essence of life into the flow of a story. Don Baird is an accomplished haiku poet, graphic artist and editor. His pioneering contribution to haiku and related genres is immense and The Living Haiku Anthology is a testament to his creation of the contemporary treatise of haiku literature. The poet blends a mélange image, emotional journey, human psyche, and resilience in life's path.
In the possible minimalistic expression, he rekindles the journey of life with candour poetic ingenuity, tonality and a touch of mystical symbolism (yugen) when he recounts:
from breath to words silence more silent
Don is candid enough and in ‘Afterword’ he annotates: “With much on my mind, a story began to unfold. It had its own take on things; I followed along, bending as the tale became one of its own.
As I pursued the story, I often pondered. There’s a mood, a tone that lingers on my mind like smoke drifting from one part of a pub to another. I wanted to keep its mood by having words bound together with something more satisfying than clinical fragments, phrases, and sentences….”
Interestingly Don elucidates the intense flow of poetic thoughts in his haiku with dexterity, sensibility, succinctness and honesty. The collection features black and white photos by the poet and they subtly bridge the continuity in a subtle style. Rightly so he says “Scent linking, its nuance, became the story’s vital spirit. With subtle connection and quietness through feeling, the haiku lead readers on several journeys that disappear yet return…”
Poet Dan Beachy-Quick remarks, “Poems might be understood as regions of intense becoming, spaces of encounter and relations in which–impossibly enough–for a brief while a kind of metamorphosis occurs and, as Arthur Rimbaud so succinctly put it, ‘I am other.’ That otherness isn’t an escape from, but an entrance into.” The poet reconciles reality and embraces pain and grief as parts of life. He dives into the depth of the human psyche and metaphorically discovers the light of hope for fulfillment in the twirled path of life:
in and out
the unusual path
of a firefly
He feels the pain of separation: “missing her friend, tears/ run along the cheekbone” and in a metaphorical framework, the poet unfolds the tears dropping from leaves and torment remains unabated as “the rain rains too.”
raining leaves the rain rains too
In the apparent chaos of life, he dreams for a glimmer of hope and remains optimistic when he pens:
shorter days dreams take their time now
He enumerates the spread of the sea as a metaphor for loss. The intense human psyche of bereavement is alliteratively portrayed with visual intelligence:
empty shell —
someone I know
lost at sea
The poet dips into the depth of grief: “on empty/ a cigarette dangles/ from her lips” and instills the reality of life through an innovative interaction or dialogue-based haiku:
she said
I said, “a dandelion
can’t fly”
Don unearths the inner feelings and paints the shades of emotion through linguistic precision, phrasing and poetic prowess. In the following haiku, one can observe the element of stirring synaesthetic connection, ‘your thoughts’, in the muse of ‘songbird’:
songbird
I hear your thoughts
in the breeze
Loneliness gripped immensely as he writes: “lone star . . ./ the sound of a cricket/ singing to himself ” and the poet tries to return to the world of reconciliation: “singing tree . . ./ scattered in the leaves/ the sound of music.”
The journey of life necessitates continuation despite obstacles. Patience possibly helps to overcome the tragedy: “rippling/ a slow tide cuts/ diamonds.” Soon he discovers the waves of ‘living’ with rays of optimism under the “moon shine”:
waves weave waves in the moon shine
The textual virtuosity, resonance, and rhythms are aesthetically crafted. Don applies a novel technique “implied imagery” (from sound to seeing) in the following monoku and tangles the sense of hearing and seeing (existential reflection) by implying synaesthetic association. It is the emotional impulse that is alluded to in the word phrase “cracked tree” with poetic profundity:
cracked tree sudden thunder divides the forest
The nuances of nature and self are interconnected. It embodies the spirit of awareness, imagination and realism. Don is brilliant at using visual images in a subtle way to explore the vastness of the sky:
crayons . . .
suddenly, the clouds
become blue
The poet transforms the visual imagery to a different scale- from blue-coloured crayons to clouds in the sky. The blue colour represents serenity and inspiration. The disappearance of clouds implies the melting away of grief and pathos. The poet might be in a Zen state transcending into the vastness. This reflects the sense of hosomi (thinness) between nature and the human psyche.
Broadly there is a thematic resemblance between the above poem and Buson’s haiku and in both cases, the colour is used as a sparkling metaphor:
a gust of wind --
and the waterbirds
become white
-Buson (Tr. R H Blyth)
In the following haiku, the poet visualizes drops of water from cupped hands to the rain falling from clouds. The haiku depicts a sense of harmonious effect (toriawase). It captivates the poetic ingenuity by zooming out into the immensity of the sky:
cupping water . . .
clouds leak between
themselves
Bruce Ross, in his preface, in Haiku Moment writes “The movement from a special attention toward a non-human nature to some kind of union with that nature is a central facet of Japanese culture.” Interestingly, references to fireflies, dragonflies, roaches, crickets, ravens, cats, giraffes, songbirds, cuckoos, seagulls etc find their places in the collection to honour the surroundings and explore human feelings.
It is interesting to explore the close parallel between his haiku “solid rock/ a cricket’s voice/ rings a bell” and that of Basho:
oh this loneliness !
only the shrill of cicadas
seeps into rocks
-Basho (Tr. Gabi Greve)
Don uses profound poetic skill, cadences, and subtle elegance (shibumi) in the following haiku. The first line suggests a reflection of space. The phrase “high- noon” sets the timeline. The vastness of the sea is reinforced as the lone seagull skims the dryness of its wings. It is an inventive classic with the interknitted craft of juxtaposition (space and time) with artistic sobriety:
distant mirage . . .
a high-noon seagull
skims the dryness
Don skillfully plays with language, creating memorable phrases with a poetic flair: “the cat licks the summer.” One can notice the disjunction between the hot summer and the cool water of a rolling river. It reminds me of Lee Gurga’s observation on haiku method as “primary techniques of juxtaposition of images and disjunction of language.”
rolling river . . .
the cat licks summer
from
her paws
He reconciles the storm of memories as the musical song: “flash storm/ passing memories/ become a song” and feels the burning memories of life in quietude: “sun flare/ a hummingbird colors/ my eyes.”
Don sketches the stillness of life as he surmises the burning shadow of pain: “midnight summer/ a cigarette still between/ her fingers.” Probably the meandering story transcends into the symbolical portrayal of empty chairs and soulfully the poet navigates the “unusual path”:
dream room
the unusual path
of forgetting
After reading between the lines, I realized the central theme as Don emailed me: “It's a kind of fiction story (with several storylines implied) that scent links from the first poem to the last. The photos scent link as well.” I think it is a verisimilitude of the poet’s story. He embraces the inner urge with a drifting mood (nioi) and arrives at the destination of realism.
James Hillman once wrote: “Mind is fundamentally poetic in nature”. Soul is “that which deepens.” The poet desires to discover the colours in the wind and celebrate this life despite all odds: “if you think so too a petal in the wind.”
I wish everyone the opportunity to explore the nuance and the transient nature of life (wabi-sabi ) in this collection.
Don Baird
Don Baird (born May 15, 1947, Denver, Colorado, U.S.A.) is a photographer, poet (haiku, haibun, haiga), and professional martial artist. He is also an accomplished haiku poet, composer and studio musician, graphic artist, public speaker, author, and editor. His haikai have won awards in the International Kusamakura Haiku Competition (2004, 2005), the NHK Radio International Haiku Contest (2009), The Haiku Foundation’s HaikuNow! contest and Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems (both 2013), and the Sant?ka International Haiga Contest (2018). He has written 12 books on subjects from haiku, martial arts, poetry of God, and philosophy. Baird is cofounder and editor of the online The Living Haiku Anthology and the e-journal Under the Bash?. He resides in Wake Forest, North Carolina, where he manages the American School of Martial Arts—Wake Forest.
Pravat Kumar Padhy
Pravat Kumar Padhy obtained his Master of Science and a Ph.D from Indian Institute of Technology, ISM Dhanbad. He is a mainstream poet and a writer of Japanese short forms of poetry. His poem “How Beautiful” is included in the undergraduate curriculum at the university level. He served as a panel judge of “The Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems” and is on the editorial board, Under the Basho.
He resides in Bhubaneswar and devotes time to writing papers on ‘Planetary Geology’ and listening to classical music and songs. His online publications can be read at http://pkpadhy.blogspot.com
Pravat Kumar Padhy, a scientist, poet and essayist, is based in Bhubaneswar, India. He obtained his Master of Science and a Ph.D from Indian Institute of Technology, ISM Dhanbad. He is a mainstream poet and a writer of Japanese short forms of poetry. His literary work is cited in Interviews with Indian Writing in English, Spectrum History of Indian Literature in English, Alienation in Contemporary Indian English Poetry, History of Contemporary Indian English Poetry, etc. His poem “How Beautiful” is included in the undergraduate syllabus at the university level. A short collage of video featuring his haiku is included in the school curriculum, The Trier High School, Northfield, Illinois, USA. Pravat’s haiku are featured at Mann Library, Cornell University and “Haiku Wall”, Historic Liberty Theatre Gallery in Bend, Oregon, USA. His tanka appeared in “Kudo Resource Guide”, University of California, Berkeley, and put on rendition in the Musical Drama Performance, ‘Coming Home’, The International Opera through Art Songs, Toronto, Canada. He introduced new forms of poetry: Hainka: fusion of haiku and tanka, Micro-Haiga and Braided Haiku. He served as a panel judge of ‘The Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems’ and is on the editorial board of ‘Under the Basho’.He devotes time to writing scientific papers on ‘Planetary Geology’ and listening to classical music and songs.
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