Cool Masculine
Hair careless tangled; dirt bristling on dried skin.
I'll be clean, I'll be beautiful again,
a cool, cruel image for someone.
I press the glass against my cheek,
feel the condensation disappear into natural fires.
I'm James Dean in the photos, the film,
despite all my disabilities...
Let me be him for you:
I've got that...
Title: In Failure and In Ruins
Author: Mark Bolsover
Publisher: Into the Void Press
Pages: 52
Format: Paperback
Price: 10$
Reviewed by Koushik Sen
Mark Bolsover’s book of experimental prose-poetry can elicit mixed reactions from the readers and critics alike, nothing new in that. The present volume is a collection of images put together, and you...
Tambien la Lluvia (2010)
Initial release: 14 October 2010 (Los Angeles, USA)
Director: Icíar Bollaín
Screenplay: Paul Laverty
Cast: Gael García Bernal, Luis Tosar, Karra Elejalde
Reviewed by: Titas Biswas
Bolivia’s water-regulation authority has stated that the current water crisis would likely extend into 2018, leaving its people struggling to find water from other, limited...
Conation
Between perceived hurts and intended harm
I cottoned myself to a kingdom of one. Here
even the wind fails to tease me. Air-condition-
ing has its advantages in intramural settings.
Earthshine is nature’s compensatory face. How
does the human construct simulate this model to
hum its way to happiness? Game plan is within
us. Unwrap yourself:...
THE LIGHT SINKS LOW
Here, the light sinks low
as a meandering river,
into the threshold of my windows
when I bake half-grown weeds.
My nails are black with smoke.
I clean the air around me
with my overgrown hair.
My kitchen sink is on the other side
of the green balcony.
It tells me the story of a...
Bankim Let
Bibhas Roy Chowdhury’s latest chapbook Jessore Road-er Gach (Trees alongside Jessore Road) is “the sweetest song” that tells of “saddest thought.” It’s a spontaneous, melancholic flow of a sequence or series poetry, resting under the trees, in just fifteen poems. These fifteen well-crafted poems perfectly synchronize with illustrations by Biplab...
Wargame
Speak. Seek. Advance. Retreat. Say a word. A thought or two. Sing for me. You know you want to.
Canoe down the river. Climb up the waterfall. I’ll be here when you get back. Waiting to give it all.
Or maybe I’m not here. I’m deep-sea diving somewhere. I’m searching for...
What if poetry fails to connect with readers?—asks Vinita Agarwal in an interesting conversation on her works and different perspectives, with Poornima Laxmeshwar.
Poornima Laxmeshwar: When I read your poem “Gift,” it reads like describing the absence of someone’s departure and that the only way out was to put it...
THE DECLINING ART OF HEART MENDING
Cannot deny that I have a brittle heart,
weak and fragile like thin ice!
As it happens with hearts
that are volleyed back and forth,
mine too drop and crack with a crunchy sound,
like a bag of wafers.
Now, you know that girls make the best cardiologists.
The Heart is...
Translated from the original Rajbangshi language by Jyotirmoy Prodhani
A Poet You Are
Poet,
come down to the dust
and watch the shades of the setting sun.
Poet,
walk down that path
and watch the lives lived by men.
I Want To Become A Sky
I want to become a sky
a sky I do want to become—
broad and...
Grandmother
Drawing circles like a schoolgirl on the
blanket with her finger, she soon detects
black ants along the wall, and becomes a
traffic cop mad at disobedient
vehicles. With her white hair tangled in
neglect, she soon turns into a smiling
tyrant who tosses swear words like macro*
and bobok** at us all. She watches the
same...
PLAYMATE
As kids, you and I
Loved red paper lanterns
And exquisite Japanese dolls.
In winters, we decorated
Our flower vases
With chrysanthemums the color
Of tiny pink cakes.
In summers our fathers
Took us to drink
Green mango sorbet
At the same quaint little joint.
Springs and autumns were
The times for new clothes
During festivals as even trees
Turned fashion-conscious
And flaunted their...