#91 - Goodbye, April
All artworks by Malathi Jogi, the Artist of the Month for April
Featured poems from the last days of The Alipore Post Poetry Month:
Restless,
My leg shakes in the same rhythm
as the rotations of the fan;
Restless,
I have counted every 1080000 rounds
of these blades go round,
at the pace of my heart.
-Richa Pandey
Read more poems on Restless here.
May this May be indelible.
May June make us imbibe our scarred senses.
May July help us know we need to die inside.
May August teach us there are no renewals, only resurrections.
May September be when our beings spring alien flowers.
May October make us know closed doors do open.
May November help us know there is still warmth to be found.
May December be when we find that even new sanctuaries can be home.
But first, may we survive the solitude of April.
-Sunil Bhandari
Read more poems on April here.
all your life you’ve believed / that poetry comes easily to you / and you cannot deny it / it’s true / all your observations are dutifully noted down / for later metaphorical conversion / the syntax in each poem sits just right / in the plate of your mouth / and once the words begin welling out they continue / until your gut chimes the bell / and so you’re left wondering / why this exercise has become so taxing / why it feels constantly as if something has hooked your heart / but cannot wrench it past your throat and out of your mouth / and of course the answer lies / in taking a pause / except that all your life you have striven to impress / and cannot surrender now / so close to the end / and so you think of all the brave things you have done / you can only recall a few / but you will not mention them in this poem / lest you sound like a braggart / and by now you have convinced yourself / that this isn’t entirely not a poem / and that you can successfully end it without feeling / too foolish or guilty / but feeling a tad postmodernist, undeniably
-Dhruvi Modi
Read more poems on Pause here.
Dressed as death, cradling the mind into a tease
Rogue, like the sea on a starless night
Ecstatic from holding all the vain possibilities
A snitch, a cartographer of my memories–
Mapping the thoughts to stumble into you.
-Saniya Zehra
Read more poems on Dream here.
"In case of emergency,
press the red button",
they said.
But the only button
I found was stitched
on my pocket.
-Krittika
Read more poems on Emergency here.
My recipe for a perfect relationship
is altered everytime I meet someone new
the first recipe was written
three years back
each time we fought
and I read it again, today,
Add a cup full of love
with two tablespoons each of
trust, undivided attention and happiness
with a pinch of quarells for taste
I knead the dough tightly
for the preheated oven is ready
forgetting to add insecurities, flaws and space
After forty five minutes
the love cookies are ready
tasteless and hard
which tells me
how effortful it is
to love
and bake it the right way.
-Anisha Bhargavaa
Read more poems on Recipe here.
I do not remember the language of poetry
The kind they taught at school.
I do not care about the number of syllables,
The correct use of allusions and metaphors.
I find comfort, instead,
In how the poem feels.
The right temperature for brewing,
The freshness of the words,
The weight of each emotion,
Delicately balanced on my zubaan.
-Rohini Kejriwal
Read more poems on Language here.
Every cartographer
splits open the giant
sphere of our planet,
and spreads it down
flat, tracing out the
horizon and naming
the oceans, and yet
every map is distorted.
In my poems I try to
to map my memories;
tracing out the horizon
and naming the oceans.
I know that there are
distortions, but all the
maps are true.
-Time Travelling Optometrist
Read more poems on Map here.
it is perhaps one of the rarest,
most fortunate things,
to experience a goodbye
like the one you’d imagined.
-Sukanya
Read more poems on Goodbye here.
I also put together two very special poetry editions: Vernacular Edition + A Tribute to Irrfan Khan
Artist Showcase: Malathi Jogi
Why I draw:
"I love making stuff. I think I'm closest to myself when I'm creating something and a bulk of that happens via drawing. I enjoy the process a lot - letting an idea, an image, a word settle in my head, turning it over and over, connecting it to who I am and what the world is, and playing with colour, texture, movement, and light. It's like a vast, thriving forest to me, and I love wandering in it. I tend towards perfecting processes and structures in my life - and drawing is the one space I feel free to allow myself to play without demanding anything from the outcome. It's a way of introspecting, making meaning, and building hope. In hindsight, I think my work is me leaving little notes for myself."
Check out the full feature here.
Thank you to all the participating poets and the community for reading and showing each other support! Once again, poetry came to the rescue and made the lockdown seem much more bearable.
Sending love,
Rohini