Sunshine From Above

When
Sunshine from above
caresses the bossoms
of Himalaya
covered with snow
ice melts
potential energy upstream
turns kinetic downstream
and flows from below
flood, microwave and press `cook`
chale thundi hawa
thum thum
aise tujhe chahooN
cheese ko jaise fungus

Ya shah-e-Najaf imdad kun
Azad shehr-e-Baghdad kun

Cute!


Ras

Even the title of this so-called poem is redundant and unpoetic. What is `sunshine from above` ? As far as I know sunshine is always from above. So the title `sunshine` would have sufficed unless the poetess means by above the real `above` - but even then it is redundent. A more poetic title, given the subject matter, could have been ` Sunshine (from) Inside`.

Dear AnNy,

Although I have always believed art to be a subconcious to subconcious thing, this was a very hard poem for me to grasp a mood out of. I am a musician and i usually like to translate all forms of art into mine.

I tried to compose a part of your poem into music... I`ve uploaded it at http://www.dotfactor.net/sfa.mp3 for you and others to comment... I really wonder how close I got.

Awwww....

:)

-h-

anNy,

Your poem is good, it is short, not like ferzoks winding articles, not the foolish diatribes of ylh, not the jihadic utterings of romair in khaki, not the koranic discourse of urstruly. One article I read fully, sorry some one said it is a poem, other said it is all due to microsoft, the word wrap function got stuffed and a small para became a poem.

All the best for the new year,

Regards

Jay

Q,

Overall conveys a lot but parts of need going over. What, for example, is this?

``My mind
Over floods with grief
So
I look up
and Sigh``

And for God`s sakes, why this moroseness in one so young? Giggle away, kiddo, and the world giggles with ya!

Nice to have you back tho.
N

anNy:

Please don`t waste your talent on poetry. With all due repsect to the poets here, English poetry is dead. Urdu poetry is somewhat alive because other genres in that language have not progressed to a point where Urdu poetry becomes insignificant. Poetry by the likes of Iqbal and Ghalib(sorry hamidm) is still relevant because it is the only medium we have of inferring the thoughts and feelings of a bygone era.

If you really want to experiment try writing something hip-hoppish. For instance what does this line remind you off......``don’t touch this.....``??

later
-sac

When
No one
Feels
Like mine

my insides contract
like a Baby
told
‘don’t touch that!’


beautifully described anny!

anNy,

remember critics are a dime a dozen, its much harder being a writer :)

shandana

``have you ever heard anyone say ``bazeecha-i-itfal`` ?............. (hamidm1/2)

yeas -- another name for Chowk

Emotional huh?

anNy,

Keep going and remember to take no prisoners!

Ahhh and for my two sides of a copper coin, Urstruly and Hamid Sahibs:

Deformed Finger

Don`t stick your finger in the ketchup bottle,
Mother said. It might get stuck, &
then you`ll have to wait for your father
to get home to pull it out. He
won`t be happy to find a dirty fingernail
squirming in the ketchup that he`s going to use
on his hamburger. He`ll yank it out so hard
that for the rest of your life you won`t
be able to wear a ring on that finger.
And if you ever get a girlfriend, &
you hold hands, she`s bound to ask you
why one of your fingers is deformed,
& you`ll be obligated to tell her how
you didn`t listen to your mother, &
insisted on playing with a ketchup bottle,
& she`ll get to thinking, he probably won`t
listen to me either, & she`ll psuh your hand away.

-Hal Sirowitz

For anNy, who is a real writer because she tries, and the rest of us as we watch these two men sort it out, have sympathy and remember Lucille Clifton`s words:

Come, coil with me
here in Creation`s bed
among the twigs and ribbons of the past
I have grown old remembering this garden,
the hum of great cats moving into language,
the sweet fume of a man`s rib
as it rose up and began to walk.
It was all glory then
the winged creatures leaping like angels,
the oceans claiming their own.
Come, let us rest here a while
like two old brothers who watched it happen
and wondered what it meant.

Conversations between Lucifer and God
-from The Book of Light

temporal says it is `ogdenish`, ghalib says it is `un-ogdenish`, hamidm says
it is `childish`.......what does the child... oops poetess say ;)

I like it. Very sensitive.

Satire, thy name is Ogden Nash. But I wonder from what angle is this poem ``ogdanish``?