"and then the lighting of the lamps...."
kya baat hain. that last line always gets me.
Thankyou Vaidehi Tandel for reminding me again of Eliot and his uncanny vision of the world.
Today's poem has been guest curated Vaidehi. It makes me very happy to have a friend, reader and occasional blogger on board sharing her love for poetry, and for Eliot! Keep coming back! Poetly would be happy to have you again
You will find the rest of the poem at her blog:
Not the "decoration" but the "essence". Pound's poetry goes to the very heart of the "thing". Without using a single verb, Pound creates a fourteen word "vision" of modern life and its uneasy relationship with nature. The persona in the poem speaks without speaking. The absurdity of the "apparition" of the people on the metro, and the unexpected beauty of the image is heard only in the tone of voice. The uncanny pairing of these distinctly different images turns the piece of
Today's post is a guest post. It's a real joy to have fellow writer Partho P. Chakrabartty curate this beautiful poem. Partho is a dear friend whose insight and work has been important in shaping my own journey with poetry. Poetly lives for such engagements He writes about his relationship with the poetry of Diane di Prima: Diane di Prima started off as a Beat poet, but spiraled into so much more—revolutionary, activist, mother, teacher. One can guess how cool she is from he
Ramanujan was a genius. He was a polymath- a polyglot, an academic, a scholar, a philologist, a folklorist, an educator and literary critic, a translator, playwright, and, of course, a poet. This poem embodiess his keen eye, his sensitivity, and, for me, the humility and distancing of the self as ego, the act of creation requires. What is interesting to me is, of course, the vibrant and many-layered application of metaphor, but his exploration of dualities. I think arti
another poem... for Emily. who knew. "The newly emerged insects are attracted to lights in riverside towns and villages and the local authorities deploy snow clearing vehicle to remove their rotting corpses."
https://freshwaterblog.net/…/the-mayflys-lifecycle-a-fasci…/ the mayfly: a biography from her liquid prison she escapes, winged nymph
lusting after light. a few hours of breath - then blessed
before she falls, with the dance of the possessed - wings askew, sussed
They can try. But they can't break JNU. Gorakh Pandey himself committed suicide in a JNU hostel..... Rest in poetry. "Pulis hi pulis... Lathiya baras rahi thi.." "Kitne log ko lathi khate hue dekhe (been hit himself) log pani maang rahe hain. Pade hain raste Mein. Ek dedh kilometer students ko bhaga ke maar rahe hain..." " Log peacefully chal rahe hain unko maar rahe hain" "Hum nahi padhenge. Job milega tho nikal jaenge... Hamaare paas paise nahi hain" "Ek humara saathi hai
"... I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary..."
I met these two lines long before i met the rest of the poem, or even some of Atwood's prose. It was only recently that i mustered up the courage to read the rest of the poem. And it did not disappoint.
I personally believe that every poet writes an "i want' poem that speaks to desire, the bed for real human connection, alienation and unrealised drea