HALL OF POETS, ISSUE 06, OCT.2015

© PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

ISSUE 06; OCT 2015 NOT FOR SALE

HALL OF POETS

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CHECK OUT 13 POEMS YOU MUST READ THIS SEASON

MAGAZINE ENTRY WINNERS PAGE 09

FEATURED ARTICLE: WHY IS INDIA HYPOCRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SEX? PAGE 05 POWERED BY LAVITA PALACE, SECTOR ­ 10, GURGAON, HARYANA, INDIA. HALL OF POETS, 913 SECTOR­ 15 PART­2 , GURGAON, INDIA. PIN: 122001.

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 Editor­in­chief: Dr. PRERNA SINGLA Cover & Magazine design: PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA Logo design: DAIPAYAN NAIR

ISSUE 06, OCT. 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/articles 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/articles, 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 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. Graphics used are under fair use policy and not for commercial purposes, the artist/designer claims no right to own the graphics that are taken from internet. The content of each poem/article 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.

© PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

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Lavita Palace WISHES YOU A VERY HAPPY & PROSPEROUS

DIWALI © PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

Irresistible love

TRILOCUTION VERSELETS BY Dr. PRERNA SINGLA

Surging For Life All Barricades Broken Two Souls Unite © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 2015

Poetry Soi- Disant i.e. Self- styled poetry and this particular form/ style is created by me. The signature name of this style of poetry is TRILOCUTION VERSELETS BY Dr. PRERNA SINGLA. In this form each stanza consists of 3-4 lines/ verselets and each verselet consists of only 3 words, along with it is a 1-2 word title reflecting upon the scenario that follows.

First letter of each word has to be in Uppercase.

© PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

http://pulkitfacesreality.blogspot.in/

WHY IS INDIA HYPOCRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SEX? © PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

India the land of Kama sutra is running away from its image of ‘The originator of the art of love’. It’s not that people here are love less. In fact people remain more sexually active thanks to the type of climate and spicy food Indians eat in which most of the spices have the power to energize and activate the erogenous zones of the body.

Then why is India hypocrite when it comes to sex??

This question very commonly spurts in the mind of every person who is not Indian. Where on one hand, we have so called “western culture” where love and intimate relations are quite liberal and expression of love towards opposite

WHY IS INDIA HYPOCRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SEX? PAGE 02

sex is considered good, on the other Hand we have the so called “Indian Culture” where expression of love, intimate relations with opposite sex before marriage or even casual affairs are discouraged and looked upon as a sign of being corrupt and characterless specially in case of women.

The issue of sex is commonly ignored in public like it’s some kind of crime which needs to be boycotted. On the contrary India ranks second in the world on population scale by which it is evident enough that Indian population is sexually very active.

The level of hypocrisy in terms of sexual expression is so high that no child is given proper sex education in India and even if the subject is added in books it is ignored by parents & teachers as if it is some kind of horror story.

The children are left on their own to figure it out and its methods when they reach puberty. And whatever good or bad they grasp, they implement that in their practical life ranging from exploitation to gang rapes to unwanted pregnancies.

The Indian society is so hypocrite that most of the people till date live a trapped life in their marriages where most of the partners do not make love and they are just living together as a compromise since taking a divorce because of unsatisfied sexual life will ruin their image in society.

Continued ... © PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WHY IS INDIA HYPOCRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SEX? PAGE 03

The Indian film industry being the mirror of Indian culture to the world crosses their line when it comes to selling sex in shape of movies trying to reflect upon a liberal, modern, western thinking culture. On the other hand, similar clothing or acts are enough to create a life of controversy for you.

Generally Indian women are forced to kill their body need as it is considered a taboo in India. People believe that a woman should to be pure like a goddess who is free from urge of copulation and its negativity although the status of being a goddess does not apply when it comes to domestic violence, marital rapes, family rapes and nowa-days in trend gang rapes.

So the million dollar question pops up:

ARE INDIANS SEXOPHOBIC?” The answer is NO. India – the land of Kamasutra, where temples with sculptures of khajuraho narrate stories of lovemaking is not a sexophobic country. With it’s culture looking like overtly conservative it is in fact opposite of Sexophobic.

People are crazy about making love but the societal image of too much morality makes them adopt an extrinsic mask that displays disinterest in anything that is related to love or sex with a desperate expression of proving Continued ... © PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WHY IS INDIA HYPOCRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SEX? PAGE 04

themselves as pure beings since according to Vedas making love or physical urge is one of the vices due to which one can never attain salvation and a pure yogic person is able to control the five human vices viz. Sexual Urge (kama) , Anger (krodh), Pride (madh), greed (lobh) and attachment (moh).

Also, If any woman expresses the physical urge, she is not considered decent and the opposite gender considers it justified to approach them perversely for profane conversations and inappropriate forceful sexual involvement with them no matter the age (Although, there are masses who are not of such crippled mentality and thus the entire gender cannot be generalized). As a result, women develop a habit to portray themselves as idols of chastity suppressing their biological needs of the body as well as expression of love.

You will openly find people claiming that they are not into all that dirty things, they never watch adult movies, never read dirty jokes, never had sex or even a kiss before marriage, never feel any unnecessary sexual excitement, never fantasise opposite sex.

But the truth is: India and its people have same sex issues, sex crimes, sex life, sex addictions, sex facts and sex myths like any other country. © ARTICLE & DESIGN PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015. All Rights Reserved.

READER'S CHOICE MAGAZINE ENTRY WINNERS OCTOBER, 2015

© ART & DESIGN PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WINNER MAG ENTRY POLL, OCT 2015

BATTLE CRIES POEM © DARREN SCANLON

The hopeless eyes and tear stained horror of a far-away, fragile gaze, where once a sweet and happy child dwelt, till the innocence of life was erased.

The tears have dried up, cried out with the pain of battered beseeching hands, just sitting, bereft, in the remains of a life, in the dust of desolate lands.

Never will a smile grace the frozen faces of those who have seen so much grief, the laughter and joy lie dead and buried their moments so tragically brief.

Childhood cut short and a life now alone, no longer afraid the bombs, Continued... © Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

BATTLECRIES PAGE 02

just vacant resignation of all that will be; a lament for a life now long gone.

It breaks my heart and claws at my soul to see the haunted gaze of a child staring from the rubble of streets they once played, where death and destruction run wild.

Will we ever see an end to the horrors of war; to the blood and the loss in its wake, to see once again sweet confident smiles, replace frowns and terror and hate? * Written By Darren Scanlon, 7th October 2015. © 2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

© Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WINNER MAG ENTRY POLL, OCT 2015

HIDING TRUTH POEM © The Roxy Chicken 2015

Today I took my glasses off The ones I'd worn for years My rose coloured Tinted specs That balanced on my ears The lenses were discoloured With blinkers on the side And anything distasteful They always seemed to hide But today it didn't matter I had to see the truth And now without my glasses My eyes would have the proof To do this wasn't easy Some people thought me wrong Abandoning the glasses I'd worn for far too long Continued... © Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

HIDING TRUTH PAGE 02

All my life I'd had them But never for my sight And only with my glasses off Could I see wrong from right I really didn't need them My eyesight wasn't bad But I was told to wear them When I was just a lad Now all the boys who had them Are throwing them aside Without the rose tint glasses The truth can never hide

POEM © The Roxy Chicken 2015

© Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WINNER MAG ENTRY POLL, OCT 2015

THOUGHT ABOUT YOU...

Sometimes, excursions by bloodthirsty lowlands from your eyes seem to me to be migratory peoples armed with chains of myrtle, who want to conquer me.

I'll leave myself overwhelmed with their larches and I will brush their horses mane, with my fingers through your hair.

POEM & PICTURE © Marian Puscasiu Sept.2015

© Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

JOURNEY TO SPLENDID READING

© ART & DESIGN PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

RECAPITULATIONS AND REASSESSMENTS

Poem © Phillip Matthew Roberts, 2015

My pen scalpels away my flesh and for a moment I'm free as a Leibniz-inspired monad perceived directly by God or so I pretend in this space white as a virgin's conception.

Among people I'm shy, tucked away in a demeanor saved and salvaged from childhood; innocence lost and patiently regained Continued... © Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

RECAPITULATIONS AND REASSESSMENTS PAGE 2

by means inexplicable except maybe I'm stubborn or dumb--an athlete whose will was honed against losses never forgotten, even when therapists and coevals pitied, mocked or belittled...

I refused to let go of this story though haunting and aberrant and summarily rejected all attempts by those who insisted I edit or omit the horror turned into mythologies whispered by a kind voice that delved into cruelty and grotesque trespass.

Now the past is just memory transformed into fiction, stories about a boy-king fallen into dark skies, adrift among constellations named by imaginary children born into this same space where I too, once upon a time, discovered redemption.

POEM © Phillip Matthew Roberts, Sept 27 2015. © Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

ALWAYS POEM & DRAWING © Gianfranco Aurilio, 2015 http://www.gianfrancoaurilio.it/archives/3571

You, that are now listening, turn round and look.

What are they if not screams or groans that everywhere, lacerating, rumble deafening ears, hearts and consciences?

What are they if not arms that do not stop talking?

It seems that blood is food that pain is water a poison the pleasure sweet the suffering.

Time goes by useless it’s always been. © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WORLD OF GLASS SWANSH..

POEM © 28/9/2015.

My wandering thoughts in the abyss of times Takes me on a detour known and unknown Something amid deep inside my psyche Sometimes purging the nooks of causes Sometimes forcing me to ponder over effects And today I am lead on a lead laden land Of the fine and most glamorous of detours What I see now is clarity, shine and glitter On faces, places, things and everywhere Only the best I see that can ever be I heard people speaking of inner journeys I heard people's affirmations of being open Continued.... © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

WORLD OF GLASS PAGE 02

And then I ask myself am I so without a mask The child within ever protected and suppressed Has it seen the light of the day in life ever Have I not masked with cloaks of decency, Sacrifices, goodness, humbleness and artistry Has it been given a voice for its ancient whisperings Ah the hunger to Be As rather than Being Only When I look at this semblance I simply find more around How many times could I give voice to my fears And how many times did I hear voices of other's fears Never honestly as we are tuned to mask with courage On the thresholds of blatant blown up pride and ego Isn't it a world of a clear, shining yet brittle glass We all move in this medium called our bodies Hiding the pure ancient child within, behind This shine this glitter this beautiful layer of invisible mask Is not my journey meant to be with the child within Like a feather floating in the air pure for ever Oh my soul what are you still waiting for.

SWANSH..

POEM © 28/9/2015.

© Design by PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

META Poem © Anca Mihaela Bruma ­ 17th May 2015

Your words fly like liquid butterflies crashing into new Life stanza, flirting with my untamed sentences, coding the haiku and couplets of my Heart!...

Within these swirling meta-messages ritualic cyphers play your daily hyphenations, language symbols get reinvented by this matrix of symphonic letters, where today's perception leaves yesterday's carcass...

Life!.... it is really a prolonged romanticized chronicle with contradictory paradoxes and poetic epiphanies...

But... I found you at the end of my Heart's avenue where I left my address written on an autumn's leaf and ambrosia welcomes you with the promise of a new realm and immortality offerings which you can find only inside my majestic verses...

Inside this vertigo written by a windy dream ART paints its Life through US!...

This is what makes Love being LOVE! And you being YOU!... Inside ME!...

© Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

STARLIT EXPEDITION POEM © Mohammad Shahnawaz 2015

A bright white peacock in sky's realm Flying right in middle of space at distance Studded with stars at end of feathers Like threads of light floating aboard wind Twinkling diamonds in midnight ocean Adorned with light through invisible strings Shining in middle of the sapphire hourglass Covers my eyes with fog of illusion.

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

STARLIT EXPEDITION PAGE 02

Gulped willfully at soul's consent Roaming the garden of clouds and stars Embracing the light of half ate melon Bare eyes stare the scattered stars Peacock of the night rests far in the sky To crawl through the dark into moonlight salvation Comes to sight The Triangles of Light From a point in space to My Starlit Expedition.

POEM © Mohammad Shahnawaz 2015

http://seekerpoet.blogspot.com/2015/10/starlit­expedition.html

© Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

HOW DARE I ©SeemaTabassum 2015

There are lives that know no light or sunshine how dare I think that my pain defines Lives that are nothing more than screams how dare I think only I have shattered dreams Lives that struggle to merely get by everyday how dare I think I have darkness splattered everywhere Lives that know no peace mayhem everywhere how dare I think I cannot see beyond today Lives filled with chaos cries and despair how dare I think I'm living on thin air © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

Lives which pray for death in the hope it'll bring respite how dare I think sorry is my plight Lives that have seen and recognise only loss how dare I think I've paid the cost Lives whose stories rip your heart and tear how dare I think I need comfort and care Lives that teach us important lessons how dare I think I'm the only one carrying a burden How dare I think I'm special or different How dare I Almighty God forgive me for being so indulgent POEM © SeemaTabassum 2015 © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

HOW DARE I PAGE 02

WAKE UP! Poem © Rishiraj Sen, 2015

Comrades of my nation, Fight for your ration, Hearken the tides of revolution, Flowing in the golden sea.

Sooner or later it will arrive, When tyrant man will strive, To snatch your minimal rights, Throwing you apart, Faltering your Morales.

Life shall vanish from the land, As the grip of lust clenches, Ripping the innocent naked buds, That were yet to be flowers, With arms in each corner.

Man will be slaves of cruelty, With harness in our back, Freedom and peace shall rust forever, With the soul's wrack

© Design PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

SEED POEM © 2015 Skylark Hatee

Seed that doth grow In a watery soil of yellow Soon to outgrow its former abode Where shall your blossoming be Atop what soil will we greets't thee?

Shalt thou be a seed Of ignominy and destruction And like the tumbling weed Suffocate this earthly garden Or will thou blooms't forth As a thing of beauty?

Know this dear seed That upon the world doth unfurl Whatever crop thou dost render Tis tied to the condition Of the soil that dids't thee nurture

© Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

YOU LAID DOWN THE FIRST PIECE POEM © Karen Hayward, 2015

You laid down the first piece and the air was sucked from my lungs and I forgot how to breathe.

You put the second on the floor and I truly believed I could handle it all.

You put down the third the fourth and the fifth and the thought of life made me feel violently sick.

Still more appeared on the ground my voice disappeared, I was left with no sound and so I learned the art to tip toe round.

And they came and came, the constant flow of a morbid game.

The sun never passed through the shade and images of the world began to fade.

The moon never skipped on the floor, Continued ... © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015

POEM © Karen Hayward, 2015 YOU LAID DOWN and the dominoes filled the THE FIRST PIECE PAGE 02 room to the door.

I could move no more.

I could of knocked those pieces down I could have wiped away that frown and stole away your kingly crown.

But I didn't. I stood in the shade out of sight, so afraid.

Look at me now, i'm the product you made.

I'll give you this chance, i'll give two or maybe three blinded by life to hazy to see.

And some tried to reach and some tried to see but nobody recognised, that this wasn't me.

'It's life.' they would say, 'It'll all be okay.'

I would sigh to myself on the bed where I lay.

So nobody heard the tears that fell or the frustrated times when I would yell and yell, but everyone heard the story he'd tell.

Till one day, I kicked down one piece and I had no idea what that truly means.

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

YOU LAID DOWN

But, one fell then two THE FIRST PIECE PAGE 03 and the sun filled the room and I finally saw the sky that was blue.

The warnings I gave are now the path that I pave fixed together with promises I made.

The dominoes fall one at a time, sometimes scrambling in a perfect rhyme but they fall silently as i tip toe the room as I search for a glance at the eternal moon.

The first ones to fall were anger and hate the ideologies of life that I so badly craved.

Then a pattern appeared as I got near so many of them were labeled 'Her majesties fear.'

Fear of failure mistakes and shame each of them marked with my lovely name and suddenly I saw that this was a game.

I knocked down the pieces and blindly I won, my room was now filled with the morning sun.

Forget, did he, that i'm a player you see no one ever wins, when they play against me POEM © Karen Hayward, 2015 © Design By PULKIT MOHAN SINGLA, 2015