JULY 2012

Title page of july 2012
print issue

Poems by JATINDER AULAKH

your beauty
is It possible ? 
end of the panic Gust 
and my all Sorrow 
is it possible? 
to escape our self 
from life Imprisonment 

poems: Parndeep Kainth

Parndeep Kainth is poet of thin and deep thoughts of mind. In our social life everything is going on as formal way. Looking everything is fake. He is thinking about negative social act happening around our. His poetry is silent slogan of truth against every fault of society and human selfishness.
He is living in England and working as radio host. Also art editor of Punjabi and English literary journal. He has deep intrust in poetry and art. I hope Parndeep will be well known poet soon. In these poems he introduced us with his thin state of mind.

Almighty 

Who is sublime?

Who control to peri?

Who sort out the problems?

I know!

You know!

Every one knows!

None of other than

That is only Almighty-

But no body

Run according to

That sacred power

Every one ignore

Commandments!

Every person 

Think

He is perfect

And ruin to 

All abstract

For his gratification-

Raptorial 

He thinks

He is a best shooter

Daily he 

Going on top 

Of the house

And target

To innocent birds

For

Own gratification-

Once I asked to him

If you are a best shooter

Then why don’t 

You Go at border

And target to foes-

Then he said!

Why?

I love my life-

That time

I Ponder

You are just

Impassive raptorial –

poems of Navneet Pannu

Navneet Pannu is an American based poetess.  Poetry is in her blood. She loves nature and compassionate about humanity. She lives in Fremont, California. I think thather existence is growing to borrow dreams from poems. I feel her like a brilliant living poem. While reading her poetry it seems she is a lost fairy in wilderness of dreamland.  But what is it she is searching for? Are these things  human love and joy of nature.  She found these things in poetry.

I am lost!


I have searched myself
In villa of lost souls
In the wilderness of 
Self-propagated thoughts


On the winds,
In the plains
And in the 
hearts of dear ones
I am lost!
 In the hum-drum
Of this physical world
Or in the legend of a
heart breaking love tale


O! lord


O lord! O omnipresent!
Bless us all and
save human race


Land has cracked 
everywhere on earth
Show us ways to 
escape human wrath


hurricanes and torpedoes
has taken over the world
floods or droughts all over the map
Help us escape from wildfires


What a man can do?
If not pray for help
Nature is the ultimatum
Give us strength to understand it.




Summer Rain


Today, after many years
I am soaked with
heavy rain
The little playful, innocent girl
came to me
across through childhood
And mingled with me
I rejoiced my childhood again
And thrilled
with this cosmic nectar
O summer rain!
You reunited me 
with my childhood
You made my day

Listen to me : Loveen Kaur Gill

listening. We all need a listener at one point or another, because a 

listener can be a healer especially when we take time to hear the

underlying meaning in what others have to say. Listening can bring out

Everyone wants to say something, saying something can seem simpler than

miraculous results; just because listening is a difficult task, therefore,

we should not restrict it. Like Epictetus has said, “We have two ears and

one mouth so that we can listen twice of as much as we speak.”

Children want to speak about their curiosities, their new friends be it

their classmates, trees or even frogs as they start to merge into their

newly adopted world. It is certainly expected of children to mention about

things that are naive or simple, however, just by lending your ear to them,

you are helping them to overcome some worry, fear or anger. Listening to

your children allows them to open their world out to you right from the

beginning, because it can pre-resolve the volcanic problems that they might

encounter at later stages.

How loud do we have to speak so we can be heard? Can a slamming door be

indicated as something? May be it is about time that we have to sit beside

each other and work on some listening. Why does that mother not sleep well?

Is she coping well with her menopause or is there another side effect that

is being coarser? The teenager who is confined more to himself might be

going through bullying or on the verge or being a victim of drug abuse.

Does that son or daughter have something to reveal out?

Sometimes language is tacit, yet, if unheard it can cause disastrous

effects. Are the birds saying something? Hear what they have to say, may be

they are alarming us of a dangerous reptile. It might be still early for

some of us to hear the cries of the forests being slaughtered because we

still are availing our fair share of oxygen to breathe, the wood for our

furniture, or fuel for some businesses. Listen to mourn of that unborn girl

who is going the way dinosaurs have gone because of selective gender

choices. Is listening only possible with ears? Sometimes, listening

suggests many other gestures, such as, glaring, silence, the hands, and the

feet and even eyes may speak something. Listen; to that constant coughing

of those people walking in the hallway, it may bring your attention to

working on some serious sanitizing be it environmental or socially

impacting your neighbourhood.

Why are we so accustomed to hear the louder voices and sounds that block

not only our eardrums but also our ability to visualize? We hear the

political debates where candidates talk but we have to access the silence

to judge the accuracy. An impacting voice in certain capitalist

advertisement may have changed your wardrobe to a branded one. However, it

might not have been an evergreen choice to protect you against growing

rules of uprising generational indebtedness and harsh weathers. The louder

music may over activate our anxiety levels, however, sometimes a sound of

the blowing wind will perpetuate our thoughts and dispense out radical

ideas. Isaac Newton must have heard the apple fall before he actually

looked at it, or he could be waiting for it to fall, historians can better

answer that!

Do we not like listening at all? Or have we become selectively naive about

listening? Sometimes our ears may be too occupied with our chosen range

while some significant messages around us fall through the cracks, leaving

the voices remain unheard forever.

Listening and speaking together make a good communication but generally we

may find more speakers than that of listeners. Listening can also include

provoking someone to speak. Listening can be magical, the “home remedy” to

heal an ailment which may become malign, if avoided, and a serious wound

can be infectious not only to the family, but also societies and nations.

Pay attention, has someone just said, “Listen to me.”

                                                                          *

FIRESTONE FEINBERG

FIRESTONE FEINBERG 

David Firestone, age 60, was born in New York and has lived here all his life.  he is the father of two grown children.  A retired music teacher, Mr 

FEINBERG 

has spent a lifetime in the arts: music, painting, and poetry.  he is a poet, a painter, and also musician. He is a living wonder of art. His poetry comes from the depth of the mind. Often he has written about his own experience, although some inspiration arises from his imagination — as he thinks about life and society.  His mind is always alive with artistic and creative ideas.  He has a nice and innocent nature, and a heartfelt way of expressing his feelings. We feel proud to publish his poems in this newspaper.(Jatinder Aulakh, Email: poetaulakh@gmail.com)

I AM SICK OF THINKING
I am sick of thinking.


About is a cave —


Older,


Colder


Than stolid star — blinking —


Winking at sold slave;


A bolder


Stone would to save


Soldier


Sinking —
  








I REMEMBER YOUR QUEER STORY ABOUT CURTAINS


I remember your queer story about curtains —
But I don’t know why it has stayed in my mind.
Maybe it’s like something you happen to find
In some closet you might open now and then —
Something — you-are — suddenly — here. Again.
And — for no particular reason. Defined
It a place and time long-ago. Designed
So as to be vague — veiled; certainly no friend.


Yet neither dread enemy this dusty
Memento from a When — I’d not have had —
Yet still stab barely as then dull and pointless knife.
Now drawn now brandished now ready: MIND YOU! rusty
Gut bare-laid brain — here — pain... still-in-vain... still sad...
Still uncertain still gush purple blood life —






THE TRUTH IS THAT THERE IS NOTHING TO SAY


The truth is that there is nothing to say.
Regardless, we say. Silence frightens us.
Quiet itself is disquieting. Thus
We steel ourselves against it — pretense play.
The truth is that we scare ourselves away.
Much better that than face the emptiness
That lays itself upon our consciousness
Like winds upon the desert sand-dunes lay.


When by ourselves we can do many things
Like write a letter or read a book or
Sing our favorite song or fall fast-asleep.
When among others, conversation brings
Commercial-costume cast-iron armor 
Marketplace-masquerade mist blanket deep.