HALL OF POETS AUG 2015 1-1 by DrPrerna Singla

HALL OF POETS ISSUE 04, AUGUST 2015 NOT FOR SALE

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Copyright © 2015 by Hall Of Poets All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below. hallofpoets@gmail.com Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within. The magazine is not for sale and can be downloaded from Hall of Poets community on Google plus or Hall of Poets page on Facebook, or asked for a copy by writing to us at: hallofpoets@gmail.com Editor-in-chief: Dr. PRERNA SINGLA Joint Editor & owner ; PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA Cover & magazine design: PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA Logo design: DAIPAYAN NAIR

ISSUE: 04; AUGUST 2015

Publisher: Hall of Poets EDITION: FIRST

**DISCLAIMER** ............................................................................................................................................................................... Hall of Poets Digital Magazine is the property of Hall of Poets community on Google plus and is protected by the International copyright laws. The poems are published under the name with which the poet/writer is active in the Hall of Poets online community. The publisher (Hall of Poets), authors and contributors reserve their rights with regards to copyright of their work. Although Hall of Poets considers its sources reliable and verifies as much data as possible, Hall of Poets makes no representations, warranties, express or implied, as to the completeness, accuracy, or appropriateness of the information, data, advertisements, graphics, authenticity of profiles/poems, copyright infringement or responsibility of any other content contained in any Hall of Poets digital magazine or webpage, including but not limited to the hall of Poets online community, blogs, and other email newsletters, and any other social networking platform produced, owned or managed by Hall of Poets. Each member/ artist is himself/herself take full responsibility of the authenticity of their work/profiles. Content produced by Hall of Poets may from time to time include technical inaccuracies or typographical errors. The content of each poem is the sole expression and opinion of its writer/author, and not necessarily that of the publisher. No warranties or guarantees are expressed or implied by the publisher’s choice to include any of the content in this volume. Neither the publisher nor the individual author(s) shall be liable for any physical, psychological, emotional, financial, or commercial damages, including, but not limited to, special, incidental, consequential or other damages. Readers are responsible for their own choices, actions, and results. The advertisements/advertised Banners on the Hall of Poets Magazine have no influence on editorial content or presentation. The posting of particular Banners does not imply endorsement of the product (so) or the company selling them by the Hall of Poets Magazine or its Editors. Hall of Poets Magazine may contain links to web sites operated by other parties. These links are provided purely for promotional purpose. Such links do not imply Hall of Poets Magazine's endorsement of material on any other site and Hall of Poets Magazine disclaims all liability with regard to your access of such linked web sites. In case of dispute, jurisdiction of Gurgaon (Haryana),India applies.

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ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

http://dr-prerna-singla-says.blogspot.in/

Peter & Rosanne English Rondeau © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 26 JULY, 2015 The English Rondeau in its classical 16th-century 15-line form with a rentrement (aabba–aabR–aabbaR)

Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man Peter his name and his wifey Rosanne I wonder those days how love survived? His dram brick house & a few chinks in a can.

A day of labour with skin burnt to tan Reality surfac'd when struggles of life began No longer the lovely skin, time couldst not be bribed? Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man.

Cheap food, handmade robe, nay meiny to fan No ego, nay jealousy, working together in the plan No paint'd faces 'r artifice and yet their love thrived? Love - a soulful existence today cozen'd and lied. No riches nay leisure but an amicable life-span Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man.

When Passions don’t depend On the cards dealt in hand Then the eyes need no permissions To dream a dream in creation

PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA

When the thunderstorms of love strikes the heart Neither the world nor religion can do us apart Of this love although there are many parameters

Often misunderstood this divine love of the creator Your kisses no more knock the doors of my memory Ships of our love now rest in this heart’s oceanic crematory I used to be complacent thinking you to be mine Now I am not even me, so changed the time.

REAL WORLD BY PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA http://pulkitfacesreality.blogspot.in/ © Poem, Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

ATTEMPTING TO MEND Attempting to mend, trying to merge. Misunderstood; Struck down. A surge. Labels, stamps, and senseless brands belong on jeans. I'm still a man. Just like the next. Problems of sorts. Screaming out loud: help me change course! Where that road lead, was outta my league. Mislead by the blind, corruption, and greed. Maniacal thoughts as they come to mind. Reassigned destination, a U-turn sign. Direction is lost. Navigation has failed. Remain on track, or left derailed. More than one way, in which, where to go. Between right and wrong, we all should know. Temptation and plights of disregard. Another wrong way; Difficult, not hard. This battle not mine, but sure to conquer. Change in direction. Short on time; Don't have much longer. Poem ÂŠ John Armenta 2015 ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

HEADSTONES OF PETALS Where would they be In all their beauty Swaying gently in field of dreams Without the pollination buzz Spreading seed While in their own cause Such a small little deed From the tiny worker bees That all life depends and needs Something so small, hard to believe Without them, the fields would lay withered. Dry resemblance of it use to be. A shadowy grave; to walk through in remembrance Where the headstones of petals lay, with words of nihility. Do we glorify our incompetence? Is there a need?

Poem ÂŠ UInk Poetry ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

You know what I mean when I shiver in your arms.

S O U L

You know what I mean when you look at me and my eyes are brighter than the stars.

M A T E S

I know you know what I mean.

You know what I mean when I whisper your name at dawn or at nightfall. You know what I mean when I softly bite my lips and in the next second they touch yours in a warm kiss on the back of your neck.

So...I hardly need words to let you know, that I love you, that I want you, that I need you like the air that I breathe. You know what I mean... I mean that I'm your soulmate and soul mates just know because they just feel. Poem © Graça Costa, 2015 © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

The Golden Chain © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

THE THROES UNTOLD…. Jaded and irked, With a trapped wrath, The fragments of hurt, Bombarding within, Breached is the dignity, The agony, like a volcano, Waiting to erupt; SHILPA SANDESH

She was born a flower, And fights the thorns, The exasperation stays, And ache sways, She scuffles the isolation, A pathetic state, Of oppression and forlorn, Staggering and prodigious, They would be forevermore, The throes untold!

Poem © Shilpa Sandesh © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

EYES (INSIDE OUTSIDE)

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Poem © kevin l olson, 2006 I sat watching people, at an international airport, as I often do. I was facing a young stud! The brilliant blonde cascade was going to catch Casanova’s eyes as she approached from his backside! she glided by crossing legs as though on a Paris runway the splendor of life dancing a ballet about the periphery his midnight shades hiding the peering before the blazing sun beauty transfixes until out of site and then some rating 20/20 or even better 20/15, if not, laser sweet baby blues to seductive emerald greens portholes to the soul but his were hidden a repulsion torqued his head away, the carotid pulsing like a beacon his body oscillating like a worm on a hook pierced to the heart a little crippled girl trailed in to the scene four eyes, two saucers magnified reality six legs, titanium twigs and dangles Casanova was caught in a severe brainstorm disgust raging! continued.... © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

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however, you could see life in her eyes wanting for what’s around the next corner, to be free handicap defined, not realized for the dance of life was just beginning the hideousness projected in his mind’s eyes, it rolled his head like gravity for impact spirit full of adventure, to young to recognize the symptoms of blind eyes heart full of love and warmth his posture sighed relief at her departure, the physical is out of sight blind eyes segregate on presentation eyes, your eyes, see what? Outside or Inside?

Poem © kevin l olson, 2006

I AM WHO I AM By PATRICK MICHAEL

I am who I am, down the road I kick the can a little boy thrives in my soul, where goes a man though my wisdom may change, I know where I began I'm in touch with love, it is part of my grand plan I am who I am, in my roots abide my clan in the laws of nature I find what I can span with imagination I dream beyond my scan with creativity I build worlds, I am Pan I am who I am, I tease the girls, make them cry hold them tight, look into their eyes and make them sigh acting like a monkey, on karma to rely talking naughty, seeking depths of their soul, chi pie I am who I am, I've outgrown being too shy though I'm alone most of the time, I remain wry my word is my bond, nature - my natural high love is my safeguard, billowy clouds bring it nigh I am who I am, in silence I grow more bold seeing the winds of change, like pottery to mold I grow in wisdom, in reverie I will hold in tune with nature, I don't need a pot of gold I am who I am, my future, mine to remold by the grace of energies, my life will unfold by my will power, warmth and love I will enfold my history writ in stone, though yet not foretold. Poem ÂŠ February 15, 2013 by PBM ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

MAUSOLEUM OF SILENCE I wished to be truly free, from catacombs that enslaved me, all memories and desires, even that which eyes could not see. Venturing deep into the conscience, feeling all the hatred and pain, meeting narcissism and ego, flushing them all away. A divine path opened, the unknown welcomed me. Making friends of my demons, my destiny I could foresee. It lied in searching the shadows, for meaning to this empty shell, indulging in the abstract, finding what’s beyond these mortal realms. An eternal void, discovered in the mausoleum of silence, by the gratification of emptiness, and foregoing the absurdity of what it means to be complete. Deeper and deeper, the inner spiral went. Following the darkness, letting go, true freedom in recompense. Poem © - Shayne Colaco July, 2015 © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

© DIL KI BAAT JUBAN PER LAKER AFSAANA KOI BANAYE KYON::: HAL-E- DIL DUNYA KO SUNA KAR DARD-E-DIL BADAAYEN KYON::: ZAJBAAT JGAA KE DIL MEIN PHIR UNKO BULAYEN KYON::: JO CHALE DIL TODE KAR UNSE RISHTA BANAYEN KYON::: JAB CHAAH NAHI RAHI MILNE KI TOU RAAH MEIN DEEYE JALAYEN KYON::: WAQAT -E- RUKSAT AA GYA AB DIL. GHABRAAYE KYON ::: PAYAA NAHI JISE HAM NE KABHI, AB DHOND NE USKO JAYEN KYON ::::RAAH MEIN ................KYON. *ASHA*

BEHIND MANY A MASK I reflect sometimes how many lives I live one for myself one for the society one for the parents one for the friends one for the loved ones and I don't know how many more. I switch the selves like I switch the clothes different occasion suitable attire. always few questions lingers in my mind like a wily ghost betaal who am I? what am I? am I really I who I believe to be. or something else? evenafter long racking, my brain as always answers to the occasion.

NIKHIL SHETTY

Poem ÂŠ Nikhil Shetty, 2015 ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

THEIR TAIL IS NEVER STRAIGHT Poem ÂŠ Deepanshu Gabba 2015

Those jealous of you, those who say you never can.. Dogs are they, in the form of a man !!! They aren't your buddies, Evil is their trait... The title of this poem is : Their tail is never straight !!! When you become happy, they are sad from inside.. they'll praise you in the front, But backbites from your side... When you walk on the water, they'll say you can't swim... they put their whole effort, to make your voice dim... To make you feel down, ever-charged is their battery.. Their best means for success, is the dirty,rubbish flattery.. continued... ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

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continued...

For little things,they are mad as a shit is for a hog.. they think this is the world, as the well for a frog. You'll say they're big rascals, For their destruction,you'll wait... Don't think they'll change because Their tail is never straight !!! Sometimes you'll think to, look at their good aspect. But you'll forget all this, when not given respect !!! Their words and their actions, make your mind restless... If you fight with those jerks, it'll hinder your progress... If you look at demonic traits, the range is very wide.. Don't go for the revenge, and let the God decide !!! Be always good to them, give them Love instead of Hate, Be calm and just smile because, Their tail is never straight !!! Poem ÂŠ Deepanshu Gabba 2015

ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

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minutes mere meaningless gaze focused on nothing but motionless memories while his hand glides slowly caresses the empty canvas he rises from the seat walks towards the old wooden shades that lock out that perfect northern light before noon

https://inkinthewell.wordpress.com/

"TU ME MANQUES" Poem ÂŠ inkstitution | inkinthewell 2015

in silent contemplation the brushes dyed collected in a tin can colorless diluted today feels just as lost spent in thought left in frameless time wandering without his muse ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

MARE DE DRAGOSTE Las gandurile mele vantului Spre tine sa le duca Peste albastre oceane Pline de valuri inspumate Pe aripile pasarilor Fara sa stii am pus Fire subtiri de dragoste Sa-ti cosi din ele dor Soarelui ii dau un zambet Atunci cand te-ntalneste Sa nu te arda amarnic Usor pielea sa ti-o coloreze Luna cu straluciri de astre Imi fura visul noptilor albastre Si ti-l aduce tie intr-o clipa Lasandu-ma fara visare Orice as da sau cat de mult Oricarui astru sau chiar vant Doar ploaia stie cum se face Din fiecare picur , mare de dragoste Poem" -ÂŠ by Dafinoiu Mirela 7/18/2015 ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

A HIGHER PLACE.... Twilights dawn on mountain dews Stroll two lovers, hands embraced To sit apon a precipice, eyes ensnared They reminisce Laughter, tears, hidden fears Honesty and love Floats to each others ears Thoughts conveyed without a word To drift within the morning hues Their spirits lift, one anothers blues They do not see with mortal eye Each face is seen with touch alone With filled hearts their loyalty deep As deep as bone Of conscious realms they wont abide They meander on loves fantasy ride True love, resides in multiple places Its scars left on hands, arms And tender faces They stand to leave that precipice With longing breaths, fingers entwined To stroll once more, those eyes now blind To see no more Other to crash apon A lovers shore

Poem ÂŠ J.Griffin 2015 ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

MY BITTERSWEET

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Poem ÂŠ Debbie Razey You are my bittersweet my should not but I just can't help myself My missing puzzle piece and yet not at all You are carved from an entirely different jigsaw

You and I could never fit! Not without reshaping ourselves and everyone around us not without cutting out painfully parts of our very own souls Yet... why does that knife still glint in your eye awakening a darkling nearly dead place within me which, craves stimulation life? Do I really so badly need to bleed? Even... when I know the pain caused would be so devastatingly unbearable

Continued....

ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

PAGE 2 Continued.... A festering wound which, could never heal a sickness which, would erode my soul A deep scar which, would disfigure both myself and my loved ones for life No! You are merely an innocent yet selfish "what could have been" love A handsome bound book which, beckons for me to open to peruse its enchanting narrative to purvey its unread alluring plot to experience but only within my mind An illusion an unobtainable ideal a prayer for an antidote to a broken heart A happily ever never a never ever ever! An "if only I knew then, what I know now" A secret of the heart which belongs to only me

Continued.... ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

PAGE 3 Continued.... A guilty pleasure that makes my day even when I promise myself that I will and must ignore By you I have even been marginalised and mislead lead into a melancholic state of morose of near mind-altering madness Time and time again I have ridden your waves to my own destruction I have been swept up in your sultry surf allowing your patter to wash away my pain and the sense of being so overwhelmingly alone! I have felt your empty words fill me the swell as your tide drew all its fickle frivolous affection towards my shores But... for those blissful moments your waves of words soothed my parched and fragile needful sands

Continued.... ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

PAGE 4 Continued.... I felt loved wanted needed craved adored! As then you made me your moon Your life giver your saviour your sanctuary I felt intrinsically the sheer pull between us Ah... but alas it is all in my head and perhaps my heart it also plays its part No! You are just a beautiful daydream a mirage to my unquenchable thirst a figment of my fertile imagination my Loki my tormentor MY... bittersweet! My internal deafening scream which can never be heard!

Poem ÂŠ Debbie Razey ÂŠ Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

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