The Editor,
The Hyde Park Poetry/Promising Poets.
I am happy to send the data for sharing with you
With regards,
Asim Kumar Paul. 29.01.2015
Can
you tell us about yourself?
I come from a Hindu family of low income
group, and my parents came in India in 1940 deporting from Bangladesh
(erstwhile East Pakisthan). I was born in 1950 in India, and became Honors
Graduate in Mathematics in 1971. And I was employed as a Government Servant in
1976, and retired from service in 2010.
From my school days I love poetry and since
then I used to write poems in mother language, Bengali, and few poems were
published in my pen name that time in early 1980s, in a famous small literary
journal that is still being published from Kolkata. After that I started
writing poetry in English in 1989, a few of them published in a local literary
journal, and then there was a gap of ten years. Again I started writing poems in English in
1999. And there was further gap of about five years, then first poetry book,
THREE POEMS was published in 2005, the second WINTER SHADE TO HIS LIKING in
2007, the third, AZURE in 2010, and these poetry books are praised by leading
poet, Dr. Benjamin Zephaniah of UK. And fourth poetry book, POETRY ALBUM,
published in 2014. All books are self-published. Now I am working on my fifth
poetry book, ‘RAIN: Poetry Album’ containing 34 poems with photos, and some of
poems of this fifth poetry book is uploaded in YouTube in the link: http://youtu.be/alzLTtAyP94
Which
country do you live in now? What’s your profession? be general, no need
to specify your location...
I live at Kharagpur, West Bengal,
India. I am a retired government servant.
We’re
happy that you have been part of Poets Rally as a participant, what has driven
you to where you are in this particular community?
I find the Poets Rally is very rich in
propagating poetry, and many good poems are published in its links. Its
official poetry sites, Perfect Poet Award Posts, etc. contain poems of
very powerful poets. I enjoy in reading creations of the poets in this site. I
am pleasantly happy to have my poems commented by poets of this group and read
all words of comments very intensively and I feel inspired to write poems.
How
long have you been blogging? Do you think being part of a poetry community contributes
to your creative writing?
I started blogging in March, 2011 just after
retirement from Government Service.
Yes, a poetry community or a literary group
enriches me in various ways of creation for my writing.
Why
poetry? Do you write fiction too?
I feel comfortable in writing poetry and when
I see something that moves me I feel it and my mind gets reflection of it, as
if it is like morning to start with, and I try to write down some words in
poetry in prose format instantly.
So far I have written two short stories.
Please
share 3 to 5 blog links you enjoy reading most, give 1 or 2 sentences to tell
why you love their creative process.
She writes beautiful
poems with poetic thoughts and elegance of life, in easy flowing of words. I
like her poems.
2. Mark Williams
“……
………
…if our happiness is dependant on
outcome
We are forever poor.”
It is a beautiful sentence of a
poem, Forever Poor by Mark Williams. I love it
3 Sheryl David
Tanya Page Raun
“………
my father scolds me a lot,
my mother gets sick and hurt,
my opponents reminds me of her plot,
and I seem having an urge to be
dead.
………………………………….”
I like these lines of a poem “my man refuses to see me in the eye”
by Sheryl David Tanya Page Raun
4. Zongrik
Poems of Zongrik are
interesting with impressive images of life in using of words, a metaphor of
life. I like her poems.
How
do you know when a poem is done? your own experiences need to be shared here...
When I feel something or see something that
moves me, I write my feeling and emotions right away, and I stop writing when
telling of my feeling ends at a certain point of time.
How
do you decide when a poem is "good"? Do you redo your own poems after
they’re posted? it could be poem someone else written...
When I feel good while reading a poem, I think
it is a good poem.
Practically, I make changes a few of my poems,
after these are posted, in my
blog only when I feel the change is necessary.
It may be same topic of someone’s poems, but
it cannot be the same in any way or in expression which is certainly be different
from the poem that I have written. So one’s poem must be different in poetic
style from other one’s poem, and my poem cannot be poem someone else written.
Do
you think music and poetry are related? Why?
Only I can say all words of music may be poems, but all poems
are not music, because rhythm of poetry and that of music with lyrics are
different on utterances, although sound and meaning are common in both music
and poetry. It may be mentioned that sound or tune of a piano is only to hear.
What
issues are closed to your heart? Women’s rights, child abuses, etc.…name one…
At present I have an issue on writing poems on
the nature. My fifth book of poems goes on rain.
What’s
your other hobbies besides writing? Do you have pets? Give us a picture if you
own a pet.
Besides writing, I spend some time with my
little grandson, and then touring local places to see the nature and
surroundings.
I have no pets.
Please
list your blog links below, share 1 or 2 poems that represents best of your poetry
talent…
THE RIVER,
SUBARNAREKHA
This poem is
written in celebrating Thursday poets Rally, Five Year Anniversary,
Week 79, January 14 - 27, 2015,
i.e. January 14, 2010 -January 14, 2015
http://asimkumarpaul.blogspot. in/2015/01/the-river- subarnarekha.html
The river Subarnarekha flowing with gleam.
In
one winter morning this year,
I
stand upon a make-shift wooden bridge
Upon
the flowing of the river, Subarnarekha,
Sunlight
sparkling on waters
Light-bubbles
dancing,
Looping
and pulling time and tide alongside.
Moving
fast with bouncing waves,
Glittering
episode of life just survives with joy
Sharing
and glowing with great integration.
I come
here sixty years later
Of my
childhood, and that time I stood here,
Played
with water and sand,
And
childhood memories do not mess
With present
happenings, all are going
With
anchor and shore,
With
distance and dream,
The river Subarnarekha flowing with gleam.
THIS ROAD
http://asimkumarpaul.blogspot. in/2015/01/this-road.html
This road
across the river bed
Makes
me remember
Time
has passage
For livelihood
For home
With
sequence of events
And this
river
Turns
into a stream,
Again
in rainy season
It turns
to a monster river.
I stand
at one bank and other bank
Is visible
as if it is
Parallel
line far away
With pillars
being constructed
For a
long concrete bridge
Along
breadth of the river
All objects
and all shadows
Just make
matter motto:
Cross
the river, and reduced the distance
For journey
we pertain everyday
For living
in busy sprain
We are
facing daily like
Nailing a wooden block
For building
a make- shift bridge
We are
walking on time and again.
The Subarnarekha stays with life and time.
THE CRESCENT MOON
At the sun-set time,
My mind imparts with woes of life,
That begins with surgery
For removing stone
From kidney of my wife,
And after one month
Another surgery to be done
For extracting stone from her gallbladder,
And she bears pain
I grieve to her suffering.
My mind changes time to time,
As if some stones are solid with sadness,
I look at the evening sky,
The crescent moon glancing at me violently,
While it is cool with its black and white smiling,
Whispers of love cannot hold humors,
And we are toys of heavenly purposes.
Many times I tried to explain the situation,
Every time I feel loneliness, with pains for her.
She sits in a chair; I am the man on the doorway,
I cannot make her life comfortable,
Others are sitting at the other side of glass,
Thirty two years of married life move to a risk,
The crescent moon is changeable to a full moon,
We are not changeable like the moon,
Colors of the twilight sky may change to crimson red,
We are not hopeful for changes, again we are hopeful.
5 comments:
so detailed exposure.
handsome.
I am humbly honored. Regards.
very nice.
1st line of my writing, the word "deporting" is to be read as "domiciled". The error is regretted.
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