Daily Verse
Week 3, November 2023
The Park Today
by Satbir Chadha 13th November, 2023
The park today……is full of November sorrow
Grief has settled like particles of dust on limpid drooping leaves
The green subverted to a melancholy smoggy hue
There is no breeze the calm air they say, is a villain
No branches sway no birds sing
The squirrels seem to have slunk away
No twittering birds are around today
Two eagles streak across the grey sky
As though escaping to greener lands
I sit on a cold stone bench in the park
With my dull mobile phone in my hands
My sleepy slow small town in the foothills of Nainital
Haldwani
Where to visit your neighbour you walked two hundred yards
Where one plucked fresh fruits from one’s own garden
And shared veggies that were more than one needed
We all walked to the cowshed for milk freshly milched
Frothy and with the fragrance of fodder
My Haldwani is now chock-o-block with apartment blocks
Each neighbour within earshot
The single brick walls save inches for the builder
No trees, no fresh fruits no cows either
Except for some strays thrown out
Having crossed productive age
Chomping pitifully on trash and polythene bags
My idyllic flower hedged town walls
Replaced with pathetic slogans and advertisements
Gone are the stone hedged boundaries
At the alter of development and urbanisation
I’m a stranger, this is not my hometown
Any more
December they say begins by being sad
The sorrow of the world everywhere
Till the gorgeous bright night in Bethlehem
A new star shines and Jesus is born
Poems
by Vijay Prasad, 14th November, 2023
winter fog . . .
she pulls me into
a word
her touch unmutes all the seasons
autumn weeds a hope recycled
plurality of her rain soaked body
first crocus all her smiles retro branded
Seasons of my Life
By Rupa Anand 15th November 2023
i have not vanished
the street is full of my steps
the clouds are full of my generosity
the park is full of my cats
a swami prays for my afterlife
this garden is full of my flowers
my husband is full of my regrets
my daughters are full of my hopes
when i walk by the river in Calgary
i have not disappeared somewhere
when i sit by the Ganga in Rishikesh
i belong to the wind surging behind
i am a force that exists beyond time
in the scented pages of my poems
i live in my parents and my ancestors
each month i wear as a new dress
my mind is that mountain full of all
the yesterdays and the tomorrows
strong, abiding, leaning into the sky
who says that i have vanished?
i am life in all the seasons
the river flows with my ashes
i am reborn here, there, perhaps
everywhere, of this i am certain
Haiku on Autumn
By Ravi Kiran 16th November 2023
in all languages
the chorus
of autumn leaves
boring through
the autumn stillness
a maple seed
late autumn
blue fills the space
between branches
Autumn
By Mayumi Yamamoto 17th November 2023
I used to like autumn.
We have colourful autumnal flowers in the fields.
Red spider lily.
Canada goldenrod.
They are free from human control, and
decorate gloomy brown fields as they wish
with ruddy faces and golden slender figures.
Once, autumn had boisterous flower parades
in my eyes.
They were lively and noisy, and no less mirthful
than those of spring.
It was a joy to witness their arrival,
even though they stayed in this world
for only a passing season.
I didn’t mind.
I still welcomed their fleeting visit
and sent them off generously.
Then, I looked forward to winter
while expecting Christmas
and a Happy New Year.
I loved autumn.
​
But this year,
I can’t celebrate autumn
irrespective of its boast of beautiful flowers.
Because my flowers in the balcony
that have survived a sizzling summer
on her grave
--once having exhibited their beautiful figures
as she did--
now squat and grab onto poles
to support themselves,
as they wither
with each passing day
until they fall onto the soil.
That reminds me of her last days.
Yesterday,
you asked me to take
pictures of these autumnal flowers
blooming in the fields with abandon.
“We don’t have autumn
in our tropical island,”
you said.
“You are lucky,”
I said voiceless
in my mind.
I was grateful to you
for sharing my grief
on the night when I lost her.
It was in spring.
I’ll send you the pictures of
red spider lily and
Canada goldenrod.
Winter is just around the corner
in my balcony.
Biographies of Poets
Mayumi Yamamoto is a writer and academic based in Kyoto, Japan. She taught at Yamaguchi University for 20 years and in between was assigned as a research associate for two years at the embassy of Japan, Kathmandu. After her retirement, she started writing nonacademic articles in English. Her literary works have appeared in Literary Yard, Indian Periodical, the Space Ink, RIC Journal, Spillwords, Ariel Chart and Parcham. She authored several published books in the Japanese language.
Ravi Kiran is an Electronics Engineer and is a working professional. All things Japanese -from Bonsai to Japanese kitchen knives fascinate him. Haiku, which is a journey for Ravi, is also a means of unwinding in the midst of his professional routine. Ravi Kiran’s haiku are featured in leading international journals. Ravi Kiran lives in Hyderabad with his wife and daughter.
Rupa Anand is a spiritual seeker and a published writer of experiences. Writing since 2008, her poems are an expression of images, thoughts, ideas, emotions and events that somehow get etched upon her mind and psyche. She says “There is magic in Nature. I hope my poems will connect readers with the beauty and calm of the natural world." Rupa has a BA (Hons) in English Literature from Lady Shri Ram College, University of Delhi. A cancer survivor, she lives in New Delhi with her husband, daughter and beloved cats.
Vijay Prasad is a poet from Patna, India. He is disappointingly interested in life. He has a passion for haiku, language, philosophy, and so on ... He is published in Bones, Under the Basho, tinywords, Failed Haiku, The Mumba Journal, Haiku Dialogue, Prune Juice, among others.
Satbir Chadha is the author of the highly acclaimed book, “For God Loves Foolish People”, for which she was awarded the Reuel International prize. Her second novel is “Betrayed, tale of a rogue surgeon”, a medical thriller. She has three solo poetry collections to her credit, “Breeze”, “Glass Doors”, and the recent “The Last Lamp”. She was awarded the Litpreneur Award by Authorspress in 2019, And she is also the founder of the NISSIM International Prize for Literature, awarded every year to upcoming writers of English prose and poetry.