Bijay Kant Dubey
The Politics Of Poets - Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey
The politics of the poets I like it not,
The politics of the politicians,
Hence, leaking it out the question papers,
Puncturing the car they have boarded.
They all have turned into poets except me,
Knocking at their door to open the hall of fame,
But they saying,
Who is it, who is it?
Having entered, they bolted the door,
Shutting me out, leaving in the dark,
Making me wait for and see the stars.
Under the open skies, on the verandah kept I waiting,
Marking the frosty night with the chilly winds blowing
With a blanket over me.
I waited and waited, letting me in just to note, asking me not to sit
When the conference was over
And the medals and prizes were given.
God-given merit, talent and genius in all
Lest we recognize it,
The same spark of genius in all, just spot them out with your talent search.
You call me a poet, write a paper on me,
Read a paper on me in a seminar,
As a reader and the paper will be mine.
I am an editor of a journal as for to be a poet and a critic
And you a reviewer favourite to me
As your papers on my poetry
And I publishing it in my journal or in the friend’s.
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