Biography of Vinita Agrawal
Author of Words Not Spoken(Brown Critique/Sampark) and The Longest Pleasure (Finishing Line Press, USA) and The Silk Of Hunger (AuthorsPress, Delhi) , Vinita is a Mumbai based, award winning poet. She is Senior Editor for the women based website www.thewomaninc.com a website dedicated to women facing domestic abuse. Recipient of the Gayatri GaMarsh Memorial Award USA,2015, Raedleafpoetry award, Wordweavers award, All India Poetry award, Hour Of Writes Award, her poems have appeared in Asiancha, Constellations, The Fox Chase Review, Pea River Journal, Mithila Review, Open Road Review, Stockholm Literary Review, Poetry Pacific, Mascara Literary Review, and other national and international journals. Her poems have been anthologized in compilations from Australia and Israel. She was co judge for the AsianCha poetry contest 2015. She has read at SAARC events in Delhi and Agra at the U.S. Consulate, Hyderabad, at Delhi for Delhi Poetree, at Mumbai for Cappucino Readings and for the Maharashtra state literary body. She can be reached at www.vinitawords.com
Vinita Agrawal's Works:
Words Not Spoken
The Longest Pleasure
The Silk Of Hunger
Vinita Agrawal Poems
Gift It is a gentle shape
All The Pain
All The Pain My father is lost in the range of time's darkness
Writers Without Borders
Writers Without Borders Rain waters listen to secret flowers beneath the soil The night settles to darken the bottoms of trees
Immersing The Deity Of Language
IMMERSING THE DEITY OF LANGUAGE Could you listen to your language like an outsider? As if it were not your own... Could you filter sounds from words
Rock Formations Of Life
Rock Formation of Life Let me tell you about dust.
Cloud Gate Silver metal bean of Chicago How will I digest you?
Friendly Advice She said I'd become dust if I didn't step out of the house,
The Solid Lines Of Disappearing Things
The Solid Lines Of Disappearing Things The air, the tree house that once knew love is now weak in the knees
Old Fabric Between the forefinger and thumb lie the creases of an appeal for Godknowswhat.
Broken This broken home is like a chopped tree trunk
Death On this,
Slowly This diamond cut spring, I am inconsolable
Must Begin Anew
Must Begin Anew Of you today, the long stone walls. Touch slipped through the sieve
Black Waters The revolutionaries were exiled for life in a puce colored colonial prison
the longest night of the year,
the earth is sunk in its never ending shadow.
I clear the bed
of the debris of my body.