Introduction
I’d like to invite you
into my poem.
Please take off your shoes!
(Jay
Frankston "When the Poet Sleepwalks")
Poetry
is the eternal language of the soul. As an art form, it has outlasted generations and the
divides of history and chronology. It cuts across man-made boundaries of civilization,
culture, age, gender and time. As a personal truth and soul-speak, poetry is infinite. It
hs powers to heal, uplift, release, empower and liberate. There is no limit to thought, no
boundary to expression, no curbing the human imagination.
As
times change, the contents of poetry change as well, reflecting the world around them. We
are fortunate in some ways: we have so many great thinkers and writers behind us, so many
examples to follow. And yet we have our own set of tribulations, the multiplicity of our
frenetic lifestyles, the development and degeneration of our race to contend with. Our
poems talk of our state of mind, our confusions and decisions, our concerns and our
pleasures. They are what we are all about, what we think and feel, and how we choose to
express it:
be
what you are, dream what you can, free you are
home aeons away oceans mountains punctuation marks
(Aishwarya
Pillai-Gigoo "Me Musing")
Our
poetry is what will symbolize us, represent us in all the centuries to come. In this book,
our poets cover a vast array of topics, from family to loneliness, from addiction to
technology, from escape to self-entrapment, from wars to fantasy, from love to death. As
long there are thoughts and the desire to express them, there will be Poetry.
Like
civilization itself, the modern day poet constantly evolves. Every poem symbolizes his
growth and his coming to terms with himself and the purpose of his existence. He is aware
of his flaws and to an extent even arrogant about them. He is proud of his human-ness,
down to the intrinsic faults that come with it:
Not
a spot of perfection staining my body,
(ink "Flawed")
He
has learnt through failure and time that he is a drop in an ocean and yet struggles to
keep his individuality afloat and his uniqueness intact. Progresses in science and
technology only aid in his conviction of the power of his own being, even as he grapples
with the responsibility of it:
My
scalpel my scepter my harpoon
I'm the closer I'm The boss I'm the man
(Christopher Cole "Pencil Sharpener Blues")
His
poetry is an extension of his thoughts; he discovers even as he expresses. His work is a
product of the collective unconscious of his species as well as ideologies peculiar to his
generation. His poems are his signatures on the planet.
So
now I sit alone at night
And write for none but me
(Michael
Bahm, "What Makes Love")
They
may be indited in intense pressurized moments, meant for a solitary set of eyes, but once
expressed, his poems become the property of his race, a showcase of his time.
Like
other arts, poetry is beautiful, even when it is stark and gory; it can be shattering even
while it's pretty. We talk of the technical aspects of poetry, but these are fickle, and
change with the moods and sways of their generation. Ultimately it is the emotion that
lingers, the issue that strikes a cord, and the spirit of the poem that goes on beyond the
poet and his art.
Today
there is no fixed rule, no decided technique of writing poetry; we have decided to make
our own individual systems. Everyone is different, so why should our poetry be the same?
Is
this all you want?
Ramblings of the innate creature wondering aimlessly through a
maze of words? Who made these rules?
Where the hell have I been?
(Tejasvini "Jealous")
Neither
are petty socio-political boundaries for the poet: the poet is, and has consciously
decided, to be free. In Muse Whispers Vol. -1, we have poets of various ages
and nationalities; from teenagers to septuagenarians, some first time writers and others
highly qualified professionals. But they each surpass their own selves with their unique
gift, their Muse whispering to them in singular ways.
Does
the clay say to the artist, "You shall do thus,"
And
it is done?
Does the brush command the painter?
(Gregory S. Zavala "It Has Been Said")
We
bring them together here, one hundred and ten poets from around the world, speaking
different tongues, living diverse lives, yet united in the language of the soul ... and
their poetry.
Aekta Jerath
Click here to read sample poems
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