Poetry


 A poet fights for noble endsBefore the unjust he never bendsPoetry is rhythmic flow of intense feelings. Prosody and rhetoric provide tools for practicing poetry writing; but very fine feelings, emotions and sentiments can make a good poet. A person with noble heart can easily become a poet. The great poets are noble at heart, love humanity and nature. They try to evolve beauty in all beautiful and ugly looking things, through their language.Traditionalist, Modernist and Post-modernist are just classifications in Time. The stream of poetry is continuous.Indian poetry is enriched by great seers, saints, sages, devotees, thinkers and scholars from various walks of life. From Pre-Vedic, Upanishadic periods till the modern periods, forms have changed but soul of poetry remains the same, uniting the Indian Culture with Universal Culture, preaching Universal Love –“All those living on the earth are one family”“Vasudeva kutumbakam”

‘Poets are unacknowledged legislators of the world’ – P.B. Shelly In a mind filled with filth and quagmire good thoughts  bloom like lotus flowerand make it beautiful to the beholder                                           -   Mohanchand PatilHad one not taken birth on the earth,The life in universe should have been short of one’s experience.                                          -  Mohanchand PatilPoems fall in heart and mindwafting in air up and downLike maple leaves land on ground
                                            - Mohanchand Patil

Written By: Mohanchand

Tags: #post, #pensivepost, #WritersClub
January 23, 2017 at 01:42PM

You went from being my drug to the reason I need them. January 24, 2017 at 05:44PM

Sonnet: I Thank You
I thank you, kind and best beloved friend,
With the same thanks one murmurs to a sister,
When, for some gentle favor, he hath kissed her,
Less for the gifts than for the love you send,Less for the flowers, than what the flowers convey;
If I, indeed, divine their meaning truly,
And not unto myself ascribe, unduly,
Things which you neither meant nor wished to say,
Oh! tell me, is the hope then all misplaced?
And am I flattered by my own affection?
But in your beauteous gift, methought I traced
Something above a short-lived predilection,
And which, for that I know no dearer name,
I designate as love, without love’s flame.

By Henry Timrod (1965)

Tags: #post, #pensivepost, #WritersClub
January 28, 2017 at 12:46PM

A Happily Ever After

Blessed by the Gods themselves
Two from the heaven
A mortal so ordinary
And an angel
Fallen from her grace
Salvation not in their virtues
Savaged by their faults
Preying on the fallen and weak
Ravaging them in their wake
Forgetting and forgiving
For the peace of mind
As they were undeserving
Forever in a bind
Unknowing and ignorant
Of the reality around
Recognizing and arrogant
Forever suffering
Blessed by the Gods themselves
They never found their souls

By Girija