New-Age Indian English Contemporary Poetry Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The poets of the present times, I mean the new-age writers
Of English verse discuss I,
Marking it who comes from where,
Who says what?

The tactics and tricks of the contemporary fellows
Marvellous, remarkable,
One beating one's own drums,
The bongo or the cong
Or maybe it the aboriginal instrument.

Sometimes the research assistant of the small poet-professor
After taking his papers
Turns into a critic of his poetry,
Sometimes the research student of the other evolving poet
Claims to be a disciple of his.

All are masters here, yes sir, yes boss,
Yes ma'm,
But the brown sahebs and memsahebs,
Not the English White officers.

All are but evolving poets and poetesses,
The teachers and the research scholars,
All calling themselves national and international,
Poetatsters, commoners, non-poets, rhymers and versifiers,
I mean the petty poets.


Marking the authority absent and a vacuum around,
The cleverly people trying their best,
I mean the little learning,
The hollow and shallow men
To be poets and poetesses easily.

Some editing books, some journals,
Some bringing out first collections with so much fanfare,
Some calling them, selves founding fathers,
Some glittering stars, some whereas twinkling,
But Miss Twinkle is not here.

Some calling themselves the leaders of the metred verses,
But without the reading metre,
Functioning not well,
Some giving money to puiblishers
As for bringing out books.

Ram writing on Shyam's poetry and Shyam on Ram's poetry
And they shaking hands in private,
Publicly saying,
They know not each other.

One beginner poet making one climb the tree
While another taking the palm juice,
Another trying to cut the tree
So that he may come down.

Writing papers on my poetry myself,
I publishing it in another's name,
The subscribers trying their best to be
Poets, critics and reviewers.

Those who have just finished their these on Indian poetry,
How can they turn the critics of India level
Overnight, within a very short period,
Why does one editor publish another's poetry
In mutual understanding so often?