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Unlisten the Listened by Mohini Tiwary

By
Ode to a Poetess
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Sometimes, it is necessary to unlisten the listened For saving yourself from chaos ,

Which in itself is better for your own growth .

For awakening your soul,

Which will ultimately help you in removing all your inner holes.

Sometimes it is necessary to ,

Unlisten the listened 

For the fact you know,

Things are temporary, so why to 

Lament over the things , Which are giving you all worries .

In your Hazy Wavy Days,

When your mind is full of “WHAT PEOPLE SAYS ”

Always remember, what your mind says

“Sometimes it is necessary to unlisten The Listened ”

By doing that ,it doesn’t mean

Your are weak or easy to blame 

Rather it means that,

You are strong & having your own flame.

 

AI Image; Courtesy: Freepix.com

To where go these poems by Emalisa Rose.

By
Ode to a Poetess
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The day trippers gone

along with the bar flies

the wave acrobats and

the carousel riders

Most of the shorebirds

sleep south, till the

leaves green the trees again.

With the last look around

I write poems in the sand

aware that the tides may erase.

Yearning to stay

but I leave all to be

in the winter of solitude

the sky needs the sea

I turn as I shiver

the winds whip my feet

as I watch all my poems

blow away.

Painting Courtesy: Dan Mumford and Marc Simonetti

 

 

 

 

 

Hurt by Emalisa Rose.

By
Ode to a Poetess
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The arrows accumulate

reaching the reel of regret.

Creviced and cauterized

the tears I’d held back

now entwined

in the tarot of truth.

All my “would have’s and

should have’s,”all I’d need say,

forsaken by pride’s interception.

I heard you recovered, moving

on from my stark disappearance.

But etching the marrow

carves the sting that I’ll wear,

knowing how deeply I hurt you.

For now, we hold on

Lured by the lyrical

of the sea’s echolalia,

we dive in without wings

without promise.

We are whims on wild waters

dancing the dalliance

cohorts and codependents

wooed by the wave whirl

seeking segue to heaven

At the cusp of “forever”

for now, we hold on.

Painting Courtesy:  Golden Tears and Kisses by Gustav Klimt 

शिकायतें by Navratra

By
Ode to a Poetess
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0

शिकायतें कभी वक्त से,
कभी खुद से,
कभी ज़माने से,
हमेशा रहतीं है।

जब छोटे थे तो शिकायतों का दौर नहीं था,
खेलना – कूदना, खाना – पीना,
ज़िन्दगी में कुछ और नहीं था,
होम – वर्क तो ढेर मिलता था,
पर मानो या ना मानो,
फिर भी पढ़ाई का ज़ोर नहीं था।

अब जो बड़े हुए तो आलम कुछ और है,
जब जहाँ देखो बस शिकायतों का शोर है।
शिकायत है जिंदगी से
कि अब से कुछ जुदा क्यूँ नहीं होती?
कब तक कठपुतली रहेगी,
कभी खुद खुदा क्यूँ नहीं होती?
शिकायत है वक्त से
कमबख्त कुछ मज़ेदार क्यूँ नहीं दिखाता?
तकलीफें शायद ज्यादा नहीं हैं,

फिर भी जीनें में मज़ा ही नहीं आता!
शिकायत है ज़माने से,
कि लोगों से पहले खुद को क्यूँ नहीं परखता?
अपनी नुकीली नज़रें
अपनी चार – दीवारी के अंदर क्यूँ नहीं रखता?

एक दिन लिखते – लिखते सोचा,
शिकायतें तो खुद से भी है,
वो भी ढेरों शिकायतें।
पर जब बात खुद पर आई,
तो शिकायतें हवा हो गई,
अभी तक सिर दर्द थी,
अब दवा हो गई।

बहुत सोचा तो लगा,
शिकायतें हर किसी से नहीं रखनी चाहिए,
हमें बस खुद को खुश करने की साज़िशें रचनी चाहिए।
हम खुश रहेंगे तो ज़िन्दगी भी सुधरेगी,
ज़माना भी सुधर जाएगा,
और वक्त का तो क्या है,
सब जानतें हैं बेवफा है,
एक दिन ज़रूर बदल जायेगा!!

Vacancy for a friend like that by Navratra

By
Ode to a Poetess
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Hey! Do you want to be my friend?
Here is the vacancy of a loyal one
With whom I will go hand in hand

There are some requirements
You should meet
Yes, I will check
Are you alright for this seat

Here is my life full of adventures
Tintin I am, going through dangers
So are you ready to be Captain Haddock
Will you come with me
Until the end will knock

Here is my life full of magic
Harry I am, flying on a broomstick
So are you ready to be Ron Weasley
Yes, I need your side
Even if you are a bit silly

Here is my life messed up like a jungle

Mowgli I am, running with the wolves
So are you ready to be Bagheera
Will you save my life
When Sher Khan roars

Here is my life full of majesty
Even if I am Caesar, killed in a conspiracy
Are you ready to be Antony
Will you take my revenge
Will you expose Brutus’s honourability

If you think
you are eligible for this post
I guarantee you
Salary will be very high
I will live with you
I will live for you
For you, I will die!

Painting Courtesy: Julius Caesar: Within the Tent of Brutus: Enter the Ghost of Caesar, (Act IV, SceneIII)’ – Edwin Austin Abbey, American, 1852–1911 [source: The Yale University Art Gallery]. From: Kline A. S., The Compound Ghost.

Hurt by Emalisa Rose

By
Ode to a Poetess
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0

The arrows accumulate
reaching the reel of regret.
Creviced and cauterized
the tears I’d held back
now entwined
in the tarot of truth.
All my “would have’s and
should have’s, “all I’d need say,
forsaken by pride’s interception.
I heard you recovered, moving
on from my stark disappearance.
But etching the marrow
carves the sting that I’ll wear,
knowing how deeply I hurt you.

Painting Courtesy: Pain by Orhan Can

Coloring Monday by Emalisa Rose

By
Ode to a Poetess
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Blue moon magician
conjuring robins
with a wand full
of wishes
rising the flatlines
of February.
You knocked twice
on the ice of my tundra
finding me
just when I needed
to thaw again
planting my heart
with the color of Monday.

Painting Courtesy: Monday by Rafael Sottolichio

Where the blues were born

By
Ode to a Poetess
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0

By Emalisa Rose

 

Now that they’re empty

I can see all your hiding spots

here, where the branch is bare

where once I’d been mystified, as

the moon brought the sun around

and I’d wait for your morning song

on the tree where the blues were born.

 

And I’ve come to hypothesize

though it may be just wishful thought,

that perhaps from the perch

which was hidden from view

 

perhaps you’d been watching me too

bird of blue.

The Blue Bird by Alia Yousry

Awmi-The Review!

By
Ode to a Poetess
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0

Short Film: Awmi
Director: Samujjal Kashyap
Starring: Stuti Choudhary and Kamal Lochan
Production: Kadambari Creations Digital Films

A Review!

“Just as despair can come to one only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings.
_Elie Weisel.”

Awmi is a stark representation of a woman at the most vulnerable of her times. She is one who hath lost way too much in her attempts to exist.
Her confidentiality was but to hide her pain within her wires of detaining thoughts.
However, there is an anomalous presence of an uncanny partner who is constantly reprimanded for being the reason of Awmi’s pain.

Kenji Miyazawa once said that we must embrace pain and use it as a fuel for our journey ahead and thus, Awmi too finds herself shaking her silhouette of sadness by trying to contain enough life for her ailing grandmother.

But, everytime she is snatched off the time because of her own unavailability, she calls out to the “Anomalous” and tries to negotiate with, her grandmothers’ life.

As death may take turns and ran over Awmi’s wish, she is at her final stand off with her very Own and you have to find out how!

Awmi stars Stuti Choudhury and Kamal Lochan in lead roles and what may have missed as an ambiguous story becomes an engaging unusual take of tales.

Stuti as Awmi personified the character as her own. She has a warm presence on screen which makes us, audience take plight in her pain.
Kamal is a masterstroke when he acts, always brilliant.

Samujjal Kashyap has made quite a mass of films that deals with simple yet poignant human emotions. He plays off the human dilemmas, paints them into engaging visual stories.

Ashutosh Kashyap has masterfully brought the director’s mind into them visuals as they were daunting, in a good way so is the editing by Gautam Mazumdar. Although a short film that too a psychological thriller, Awmi does not feel rushed thanks to the skillful visual chops!

The BG by Rex Media is haunting which sets the tone of the film perfectly.

Unlike Arranged, Awmi is a not so sweet story of life in all its shenanigans. Definitely not what it seems to be!

_Monroe.

Dim, Dim, Swallow

By
Ode to a Poetess
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0

You woke up in, middle of the night of psychedelic
He got some words to justify your autotelic.
Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife
You don’t wanna see yourself as your strife.

He threw a knife through the middle of your skull,
Timber, o mine, they got their safety and a stull
You got a bad desire, with lots of harm and blood
He sowed broken bones beside a rodent flood.

Polypeptides are several with that reversible Chalone,
Did he go away and leave you all alone?
The city of full violence with some brutal spies,
Disgusting and offences are filled up with your vice.

You are a victim, with having a dim,
If you open your eyes you must see his grim.

With the neighing of a white horse,
His neck bleeding caused by gorse
Blood is oozing on the ice
Omega, through him, will take you for a trice.


Poet: Trijit Mukherjee

Artist: Mike Davis

Painting: Surrealism

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