The Dark Daughter
The dark daughter, dark not, but beautiful,
Call her not dark,
As she dark not, my dark daughter,
A dance is a poem
The body language
And its signs and symbols,
The madman going.
Have you felt his life?
How mad is he?
In a very sweet and sonorous voice, sing you, say you,
Said she the girl in a golden and nasal sound of her own,
Do you love me? Do you love me?
If you peruse deeply, you will come toy our finding
That modern Indian English poetry initially began with
The stray poems and one books on the anvil
And they were not established writers, but were the beginners,
Bahut cchoti beti,
Tujhe kaise batun
Ki duniya badi berahami aur jalim hain?
What is culture?
Culture is refinement and polish,
Is inherited rather than attained
Though can be
After so much so nagging and bragging,
We are reading it, going to make up our minds
As for to read the poetry written in English
By the Indians
The grand old man of letters,
With the beards turned white
Painted brown and reddish
Poetry in the age of electronic print media,
How will the poems be tomorrow,
Will the computer literates dominate the scene
With their c.vs. and blogs?