New York Write to Pitch Reviews, Algonkian Writer Conferences, and Poetry Forums

Two normal rooms on the ground floor
and one larger double room on the floor upstairs
steps outside leading to the first floor
on the left a black Sintex tank
water overflowing, a pipe tickles in,
a little lower a boiler heats up water
and pipes take their angled diversion here.

Dogs barking all of a sudden
I am walking in the morning mist
blackbuck baby deer buckles up
bloody poachers have bulleted it.
From the whistles of the dholes
it is clear that the Dholes
have circled the body;
I see Muthu the medicine man
hop on to a raft across the waters
with the limp doe. He is doing
the decent thing, burning the dead
animal. No, they will not salvage
even a thigh.

We carry on our early morning track,
Between the branches a bird with huge wings
casts its shadow. I ruminate on Dholes.
Dholes have been trained to whistle
with their tails between their teeth.


Nothing clandestine can ever happen here.
Nature is too pristine
in these Western Ghats-- these large rooms
are for extended families.

We are all on the descent with the scent of skies,
the smell of nostalgia a balm.
The family, the parrots, the poet
and the two cars, the first car
that crushed a caterpillar has
a forest officer and the tourist guide.

https://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl= ... mrc&uact=8


Two large rooms on the ground
and one larger double room on top
steps outside leading to the first floor
on the left a black Sintex tank
water overflowing, a pipe tickles in,
a little lower a boiler heats up water
and pipes take their angled diversion here.
Dogs barking all of a sudden
different barks catching up
Muthu, the herbal man jumps into a boat
rowing to rescue a doe.
The dogs corner the wee buck to the water
wait all around for the prey, signaling with
a whistle like how we put two fingers into our mouth.
So also the dog its tail.
Muthu is not able to do a thing
the doe is already done in. Muthu
unable to do anything returns for rope and kerosene
to tow the body, to burn and bury. Muthu
returns panting and feeling limpid, nothing
can be done, the baby deer is done in.
We sniff the air for the cremating smoke,
no they will not salvage a thigh
these people appear genuine.
The scent of the skies is the smell of balm
nostalgic. We carry on our early morning track
for the cow, see a bull with menacing horns
wait for a glance of its face
what a wonder we are here
for seeing the herbs and surprisingly wait for the bull.
We see it flaunts its curved horns
turns and walks down. Meanwhile an earth worm
swaggers rising and falling like a flattened rubber tube.
We had two cars, maybe the wheel of the former
could have made a clean job of it. Between the branches
a bird with huge wings casts its shadow. An eagle.
We are all on the descent-the family, the parrots, the poet.

S---


my favorite line:


Between the branches
a bird with huge wings casts its shadow.



bernie

Siva. Are your line and stanza breaks intentional?

Kenneth and Bernie

Now I know how I will be rewriting this.

S

S:

I return to your poem...

I like the opening lines...clear, definite and visually appealing, modest and moody.

Two large rooms on the ground
and one larger double room on top
steps outside leading to the first floor
on the left a black Sintex tank
water overflowing, a pipe tickles in,
a little lower a boiler heats up water
and pipes take their angled diversion here.
Dogs barking all of a sudden


me, i skip the animal farm that follows, what are you trying to say? never mind.

me i build on those two large rooms...here is the great Greek poet, Cavafy....his red room where he entertained his closest friends. a paraphrase. from E.M. Forster his friend:

When he sat crossed legged before
Nakulan, the great Indian teacher and poet,
was the bread and cheese offered,
the expensive wine,
“his talk would sway over the Nile
and over much of the world within.”



give the reader a clear and human narrative....an emerging drama---just as Indian as American, as french...etc....


the scent of skies, the smell of nostalgic balm.
We carry on our early morning track,
We had two cars, between the branches
a bird with huge wings casts its shadow.

We are all on the descent-
the family, the parrots, the poet.


something like that....


bernie


maybe there is something you can salvage from Cafavy---he gives us drama in the form of a clandestine love affair in his poem...in his "two rooms."

The room was poor and shabby, a secret room above
the dubious tavern. From the window could be seen
dark shadows moving in a squalid narrow lane;
and from below came voices of town labourers
who now were loud at cards now voiced their jollity
with wanton song or joke, and called for drinks between.

And there — on the plebeian, unattractive bed
I had possession of the glowing body of love,
I had the inebriating lips voluptuously red —
the full red lips of such an inebriety
that even now, after so many eventful years,
writing thereof in my lone house, I reel again.

and you know,

A Room Of Ones Own.

Virginia Woolf.



and for fun, quotes and pictures of rooms used by writers.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/series/writersrooms



and this:

Sarojini Naidu (1829 – 1949) was one of India's most famous female poets. Her work is noted for its expression of various shades of romantic sensibilities and fervor. Her poems combine elements of Indian culture and civilization and serve as mirrors to the time in which she lived. The major themes of Sarojini Naidu's poems are search for pure love, seeking comfort in natural beauty, and everyday experiences of life. Sarojini Naidu was known as “the Nightingale of India."

The Broken Wing was published in 1917. It has sixty-one lyrics.
Tagore praised the poems saying, “Your poems in ‘The Broken
Wing’ seem to be made of tears and fire like the clouds of a July
evening glowing with the muffled passion of sunset”

“Coromandel Fishers” ..."is a lyric enriched with vivid
imagery and folk culture of the Coromandel Coast of India. It
depicts the relationship of fishermen with the world of nature.
In the poem human emotions are set against the world of
Nature. The first stanza of the poem depicts the solidarity
between the fishermen. It is one of the important aspects of folk
life in India. The poem begins with an optimistic note:..."
Meeta Ajay Khanna – The Poetry of Sarojini Naidu: A Canvas of Vibrant Pageantry of
Folk Traditions


Rise bothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning
light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that
has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our
catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings
of the sea!


"Man-Nature relationship is beautifully depicted in this
poem. We find a deep relationship between man and Nature.
Nature stands as a symbol of beauty that brings optimistic view
of life, that consoles and brings forth a special meaning and
message in man’s life:"


No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea
gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are
our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of
the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our
lives.



i wish you would quote or reference some of your favorite poets. my memory files re thin.[/b][/i]


a modern favorite:

Of Mothers Among Other Things

by A. K. Ramanujan

I smell upon this twisted 1
blackbone tree the silk and white
petal of my mother's youth.
From her ear-rings three diamonds
splash a handful of needles, 5
and I see my mother run back
from rain to the crying cradles
The rains tack and sew
with broken thread the rags
of the tree-tasselled light. 10
But her hands are a wet eagle's
two black pink-crinkled feet,
one talon crippled in a garden-
trap set for a mouse. Her saris
do not cling: they hang, loose 15
feather of a onetime wing.
My cold parchment tongue licks bark
in the mouth when I see her four
still sensible fingers slowly flex
to pick a grain of rice from the kitchen floor.

Two normal rooms on the ground floor
and one larger double room on the floor upstairs
steps outside leading to the first floor
on the left a black Sintex tank
water overflowing, a pipe tickles in,
a little lower a boiler heats up water
and pipes take their angled diversion here.

Dogs barking all of a sudden
I am walking in the morning mist
blackbuck baby deer buckles up
bloody poachers have bulleted it.
From the whistles of the dholes
it is clear that the Dholes
have circled the body;
I see Muthu the medicine man
hop on to a raft across the waters
with the limp doe. He is doing
the decent thing, burning the dead
animal. No, they will not salvage
even a thigh.

We carry on our early morning track,
Between the branches a bird with huge wings
casts its shadow. I ruminate on Dholes.
Dholes have been trained to whistle
with their tails between their teeth.


Nothing clandestine can ever happen here.
Nature is too pristine
in these Western Ghats-- these large rooms
are for extended families.

We are all on the descent with the scent of skies,
the smell of nostalgia a balm.
The family, the parrots, the poet
and the two cars, the first car
that crushed a caterpillar has
a forest officer and the tourist guide.

https://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl= ... mrc&uact=8

Siva, it's worth the effort. The entire franchise of your "house"poems is original,warm and engaging. I would buy a copy of the finished work.

Thanks Kenneth. I want to delete that Gay Professor poem.I am not able to do it.

S

Bernie

Thank you for the information about the Writers' rooms.And the quotes from poems of Indian background.

Siva

Siva. You didn't ask me, but I adjure you NOT to delete it. It's been nominated and is an execptional piece.

What does it matter if someone thinks a line is homophobic ? Poetry isn't real life. One of my poems was called blasphemy
I think it improper to inject my beliefs and social politics into a critique.

I mean I respect the deeply held beliefs of others,
but I'll never change my work because of it.

Art is art. Please reconsider

n the offhand chance you have another reason for deleting, I still stand by my comments.

You can leave the original, and post a new one with the word "Revised" after the title

I only speak for myself, but if anyone has earned respect on this forum, it is you. As to credibility, no one else commands 900 readings.

I agree with Kenneth.
I won't say any more, but I could.