Soniareads

Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to rhyme, The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoops A little higher every time.

Song of Contrariety Far away is close at hand,
Close joined is far away,
Love shall come at your command,
Yet will not stay. At summons of your dream-despair
She might not disobey,
But slid close down beside you there,
And complaisant lay. Yet now her flesh and blood consent
In the hours of day,
Joy and passion both are spent,
Twining clean away. Is the person empty air,
Is the spectre clay,
That...

A book that traumatised a generation of CBSE students but it’s been one of the funniest books I’ve ever read. Packing was a part of our syllabus in school and I absolutely loved the humour of the writer. Jerome K Jerome ‘s book was also responsible for the tourism around Thames river that following year. I hope you will enjoy it. I directed a mini drama named - Uncle Podger hangs a picture which i...

Love has gone and left me

“I would like a simple life yet all night I am laying poems away in a long box.”

… “…But in twenty-five years she'll be silver, In fifty, gold. A living doll, everywhere you look. It can sew, it can cook, It can talk, talk, talk. It works, there is nothing wrong with it. You have a hole, it’s a poultice. You have an eye, it’s an image. My boy, it’s your last resort. Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.”

The Human Seasons by John Keats narrates four seasons of a man. A sonnet about spring, summer, Autumn and Winter of a man found its way in of the letters to his friend Benjamin Bailey. I often wonder how far Keats would have reached if only he had survived tuberculosis and the scathing snobbish criticism of Blackwood paper.

Featuring my cats

It took me a while Here i am again Doing what I love the most, Singing the songs of the other Reading poetry Written by another

Teacher, I failed this chapter of Life I was nice- he said I shared I cared. I was nicer everyday. Then Teacher looked at Old Nilly and said softly- Did you read the questions? Did you write right answers? To these question, little man got mad. “I said I was good.” Came a thunderous reply “You saw I did what I could. I was better than the Rogue- Who scored, more than what he deserved he must’ve ch...

The Quiet World BY JEFFREY MCDANIEL In an effort to get people to look into each other’s eyes more, and also to appease the mutes, the government has decided to allot each person exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words, per day. When the phone rings, I put it to my ear without saying hello. In the restaurant I point at chicken noodle soup. I am adjusting well to the new way. Late at night, I cal...

Many years ago people living in rural Nepal and some living in Nepali communities in India engaged in musical game where two singing groups engage in lyrical (couplet) interaction. We called them Juhari" (जुहारी) and "Dohori" (दोहोरी). Although "Dohori" is the more common term,it is also called "Juhari", particularly in the context of live performances or competitions. There is no specific date ma...

Kanchi Hai Kanchi- Part 1 A young woman crosses invisible border to seek freedom and hope in a new sanatorium . Clinging on to her is her toddler son and a past she cannot escape. The tale of Muglan retold, through Dohari and Jhawre songs. This time I took the liberty to introduce a historical figure into my story. Sound mixing courtesy - Pankaj Shastri BGM- Fate Believer PC- Das Studio, Darjeelin...

Dreams by Langston Hughes

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face By Jack Prelutsky As an ESL teacher teaching English to non native speakers, poems are the essence of language. Any language that be, poetry holds beauty of that language. I make this poem mine for a minute and hold these words in my mouth. I make this language mine for a minute and return it back to its owner. Xoxo

Did I tell you that I have fallen for Edna Or her words Or her art, Or just a fragment A part. Does it qualify as an inclination Or a crush. To say fallen- is defeat. To love someone Is indeed. A loss of self- To deplete. So much so that We human can only empty ourselves to a limit. To the last brink. I must confess- We come back to fill ourselves to brim. - S. Thapa

Years ago I heard a wonderful recitation of Sonnet no XVII by Tom O’Bedlam and yesterday the night sky compelled me to read this sonnet. You can hear the thunder at the background. It’s time to revive this channel

Another Reddit find

Found this poem on Reddit and absolutely fell in love with the words

“Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. “

An elegy written for his best friend Arthur Henry Hallam who died of a brain Haemorrhage at the age of 22, the poet never recovered from the loss. He immortalised the latter in his verse In Memoriam. Arthur was also engaged to Tennyson’s sister, Emilia Tennyson

“I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.” -Lord Tennyson ‘In Memoriam’ And with this, we have reached the conclusion of Tuck Shop. While opinions may differ, some may love it while others may not. Endings are always bittersweet; perhaps that's why we dread to part. Words alone cannot fully express the depth...

“... For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. O never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. ...”

They say that Indifference is the key, but I do not know how to sit in silence without love, For I’ll always be … the more loving one.,