Result of Poetry Competition Third Edition
Category: English

Title: CRIES OF EVIL

Above an agonizing and acute  abide,

Beneath beauty blessed by bribes,

Cries clawing cat carrying cold corpse creed,

Driving devil deals, discovering drowned deeds,

Enlightening enervative eclipse empowering evil endorse,

Frightening fearless folks for faceless flaws.

 

Glancing groans gravitate grueling gain,

Hail hazzard,  hard hitting harmonical hen,

Incubating Impassive immortal illnes inkling icy injustice,

Journalising juvenile journey justifying jaundiced justice,

Killing kindly knitted knot kissing Knight's king,

Labouring laborious  lamps leading lights limp.

 

Magnifying mourns, makes my mind malformed,

Neglect neatness negotiating naked negative norm.

Oppose outspoken oath, obey optimistic odour,

Paint pain possessing promises pure,

Quicken qualitative qualification quit the quantitative quarrel,

Redeem rebellion rectifying racist rascal.

 

Sadness sharpens swallowing Shovel sound,

The trauma travels to the tampering town,

Uncovering ugliness, undertaking unearthly utters,

Vanishing values, vacillating victors,

Where weakened widows wonders widening wounds.

Xerox  Xenas  Xenial Xray,

 Yield yourself youthful yay,

  Zipping zeus zealousness.

Winner

BISHAL GUPTA

Link : instagram.com/b_a_sileus

More details are HERE

 Title:  APHASIAC INK

I'm questioned more often

Than I'm greeted.

Their curious jabber taunt my silence

and desperate eyes scope me out for answers

To 'why i don't write anymore?'

 

I pity my pen and tell them-

my nib has worn itself out,

Mimicking a broken record

Spilling, spattering, splodging

Over and over.

Stains and sentences alike.

The same longevous pattern

Of rubbing itself against the paper,

Like sainty fingers counting the beads of a rosary.

 

It has grown sick

Of collating and twaddling the same depressive vocables

Scattered at the hem of my tongue

Like mud on a freshly dug grave.

And amounting them to a literary paragon

And so called poetic sagas

Or simply paroxyms of loneliness

Casted into moulds of poetry.

 

I tell them that my pen often curses its longevity

When it structures loads of self loathing poems

Each piece akin to other

Which is a task next to Satan's.

It is tired of penning down the irony

Of every single breathe, that chokes me out before leaving my body

And every lively word that falls off from my lifeless lips.

 

They said, paper has patience

But I tell that I'm running out of ink

That doesn't want to take the shape of my sorrows.

I tell them that writing for me, is a battle

and I can't write

Until my weapons want a war.

Runner up

Jigyasa Lakhotra

Link : instagram.com/_jigyasaa.25_

More details are HERE

Top 10 Poets (inclusive of winners)

Title: Her

Toxic affairs with a virulent thought,

Her crammed state with constant distraught,

The daily toil with her mind so worn,

This devil's abode kept her torn.

 

Over the years, she's stumbled a lot,

Her brave decisions cut the Gordian knot,

The meticulous grind has brought her far,

Her radiance exuding with every scar.

 

The early hassles made her so bold,

The brightest Amazon in this world so cold,

She led herself through the valley of fear,

Eternal valour being her only spear.

 

Time and again she's bid farewell,

Casting off her protective shell,

Responsible for her choices alone,

Adapting to life she expanded her zone.

 

Her mind still pure with nothing but love,

For friends and foes, harmless as a dove,

Striving hard to embrace her spirit,

Her inner voice had become her Holy Writ.

 

At times her own ideals seem to waver,

When doubts dominate, life seems graver,

The path seems unsure, her faltering mind,

Again terrified of being left behind.

 

In those difficult times, hold her close,

Reassure her about the path she chose,

Be hopeful at heart and talk with fervour,

And be the one to silence every murmur.

Poet: Neeraj Giri

Title: Anemone

 

I wish death to the Anemone--

A fate far less agonizing, than being

A testimonial to the gut-wrenching sight

Of her parched petals and withered sepals

Bidding farewell to her scents of evanescence.

Relieving her thorns of years of raid repulsion.

 

Without your tears Aprhodite, my beloved

I reek of vanity and my blood is scanty

Mon amour, how can I nourish this flower of amour?

With your absence, the inception of fall

Disregards a century of eastertides,

It pursues the throat of Persephone beyond repose.

And as I bleed and stain the earth red

I learn about the blemishes of mortality.

I am made aware and I blame not the abhorrent fates

Nor do I onus this on Ares

That the forbidden romance with divinity

Yields naught but incessant grief

To mortal bodies and timeless souls.

 

Dear me,

The fault is within the flaws I bear

Not with the one that ripped my flesh open

I wish death to the Anemone-

A fate far less harrowing, than being

A souvenir of love that never did receive

Its beloved's drops of sorrow.

Poet: Swarnav Misra

Title: INNER VOICE OF BEGGAR

With weary eyes I stand in  lane

Expecting mere penny from the people getting down the plane

Endmost what I gain is undeniably shame

Enormous distress ruling my body from the top to the toe

Awaiting for the retirement for all the woe

Yearning for the cataclysm that's revivaling to go

I can discern the whales flipper in  my tummy

On no occasion dreamt about food that's yummy

But craved for edibles that’s not muddy

Starving for food with agony and melancholy making me cry

Bringing a panic stricken in me ,perceiving that I  will soon die

Wearing tattered clothes, my bruise covers all the whole

Sighting the mannequins my eye loses its control

Being debonair like them was not my goal

As I am habituated to all the trashy troll

All nights sleeping sniffing the awkward garbage smell

In due course having an illusion of jumping into the well

Looking at the gloomy sky and  conjecturing its hell

But longing for a place that's  proportionate to tortoise shell

Possessing  a sardonic smile observing human race saluting the statue

 

Hearing the myth that we are humans with no value

Our minds have been jammed with nightmares that will continue.

Poet: K.PRIYADHARSINI

Title: AN ORPHAN

A small blithesome child crabwise the road

balancing on his feeble legs, he trod

wearing gauche clothes and uncombed hair,

In his eyes was unfathomable flair

 

Only the present is what he knows

day after day more curious he grows

About his origin and his parent

only on finding which will be to him emollient

 

No one does he have to take care of him

He is all by himself even when the situations are grim,

No house, family or friends are in his fate

Which makes him feel although free, in grate

 

He suppresses his tears on seeing a mother

cuddling and kissing a child another

in the park brings him to play,

and wishes him to enjoy every bit of his day

 

and gets ineffably overwhelmed and frantic

On seeing a father whose love is gigantic

Goads the bicycle with his son astride

and when the son is on his own, smiles with pride

 

he feels very lonely and detached

when he passes the playgrounds latched

seeing exuberant and charming kids play

And then on ground, with indolence they lay

 

Yes he is jealous and envious,

Of children who have parents and with them advantages copious,

but laughs at their absurdity in being nonchalant

Towards the biggest asset that makes life flamboyant.

Poet: Shashank Renwa

Title: Eyes

What broken, phantom Smiles

Hides behind those Lidded Eyes?

Where cracked Lightning resides

In those veins that Fades, subsides.

 

 When Sunlight peeked into her Soul,

As we embraced in that Summer’s grassy Knoll.

I looked into those brilliant, Iridescent Shines,

And saw Within Fate's breaking, sepulchred Lines.

 

 There endured I the Gaze of Delirium,

Waded through the Styx, into Elysium.

There was Pain in her world worn Sighs,

But for a while, in my arms that Knowledge dies.

 

 I lost her then for I was a Pond,

My shallow depths could ne'er respond,

To that Ocean beneath that in Silence cries.

I realized, I will never be worthy of those Illumined Eyes.

Poet: Kirtiman Hazarika

Title: Despicable Desperation

 

In desperation have I loved

I have abhorred in desperation

In pain have I swallowed

the pains in desperation

 

 In desperation have I been sly

and been brutal in desperation

In a daze have I longed for

a few desires in desperation

 

In desperation have I lost

and lost in agonizing aches

In the enchanting selfish world

a little selfish in desperation

 

 In desperation have I prayed

and knelt in desperation

Lost a tinge of faith

and a lot of love in desperation

 

 In desperation have I queried

challenged Him in desperation

Argued and fought and impugned

a part with me in desperation

 

 In desperation have I dug

deeper and harder in desperation

Only to feel more desperate

than ever in desperation

Poet: Mukti Masih

Title: Re-discovering Myself

I was hopelessly lost; meandering through the realms of dark,

When upon a new journey, I accidentally did embark...

 

That led to the discovery of my Self true;

All my limited self-conceptions, it did undo!

 

Erstwhile I had led a life not truly of my own,

Orchestrated by conditioning, my soul torn;

 

My Inner Light, eclipsed by my towering ego

Discernment clouded; couldn’t tell a friend from a foe

 

Fragments of me, lost in gratification of senses

My inherent powers, diluted by petty indulgences

 

My mind, stuffed with what others fed...

Woe! Was it even my life that I led?

 

But today I am free, all by myself, alone,

My soul, my heart - for none but my own!

 

Shallow goals, my mind’s long outgrown

A renewed dream, my eager heart’s sown!

 

I have re-discovered my passions, ideals and aspirations,

Discarding my passivity, fears and self-imposed limitations!

 

I have a vision of my own to live by,

Let the world protest and ask why...

 

My potential, far exceeds what I had thought,

Only in my Higher Self, refuge I have sought!

 

 

Peace I have found, responding to my Higher Calling

I am defined by possibilities; not by any past failing!

 

To my inner Voice, I shall forever listen,

Under its aegis, I shall glow and glisten.

 

Faith in my Own Self, and guided by the Divine Will

I renew my soul’s mission – that greater Destiny to full

Poet: Priyanka K. Tiwari

Title: Dazzle like a “Rose”

Gleaming in your magnificence

Shining in your brilliance

Metaphorically embracing me with your love

Like a rose glowing and enchanting thy life.

 

My heart leaps in jubilation and ecstasy

As you caress my rosy lips with your blissful joy

Encapsulating me within your caring hug

I surrender myself to your gracious tug.

 

I desire no material gifts

I yearn no luxurious amenities

But I crave for the red alluring rose

Pleasing and charming me to sing and dance.

 

Marvelling our bonding and tenderness

Adoring our warmth and fondness

My love for you magnifies each day

My craze for you amplifies each day.

 

Overcoming all boundaries I flee towards thee

Leaving aside all shyness I entangle myself within thee

Your tender touch fills and elates my heart

In triumphant as I touch the seventh heaven of delight

Poet: Kuntala Banerjee

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