Rain -- Naomi Shihab Nye

Guest poem sent in by Nelson JS Santhosh

(Poem #1379) Rain A teacher asked Paul what he would remember from third grade, and he sat a long time before writing "this year somebody tutched me on the sholder" and turned his paper in. Later she showed it to me as an example of her wasted life. The words he wrote were large as houses in a landscape. He wanted to go inside them and live, he could fill in the windows of "o" and "d" and be safe while outside birds building nests in drainpipes knew nothing of the coming rain. -- Naomi Shihab Nye

Comments:

I don't know much about the poetic merits of this modern piece. But what I do
know is that Naomi takes a stereotype, turns it upside down and shows what
strange waters can flow from the most unexpected of places if you can see
them. I have always known that a dunce is not so a dunce if you don't look
for them. So many of these so-called "dunces" were some of the best friends
I had, guys who would gang up & beat seniors who ragged me while
"intellectuals" watched in fear. Whenever teachers slapped these "dunces", I
would always want to scream at them, but I had to quietly satisfy myself
with splashing ink on their clean shirts and sarees when they weren't
looking. That was once upon a time, but I still fill the windows of my "o"s
and "d"s and don't even leave out the tiny half-moon of "e" ;-)

Nelson

Biography:
  [broken link] http://voices.cla.umn.edu/authors/NYEnaomishihab.html

A Love Poem -- Sivakami Velliangiri

Guest poem sent in by "Nelson JS Santhosh"

(Poem #1261) A Love Poem Y o U f a l l into my eyes like red chilli d u s t. -- Sivakami Velliangiri

Comments:
I dont know if this would qualify for a guest poem--it's a "shape" poem."
Red chilli dust in the eyes" is one of the best ever descriptions of love
that I have ever heard.The jealous rage when your lover talks to another
male friend,the suddenly loud heartbeat when you wave her goodbye...etc etc
- all that heightened emotional intensity: reality's salt on the wounds of
love...all of it can be distilled into this one line.

About the poet:
This is by a relatively unknown Indian poet-Sivakami Velliangiri.Her works
have been published in The Brown Critique,The Little Magazine and Youth
times etc and lately there was an article in The Deccan Herald.....but
theres not much about her on the net. Theres another amazing poem called
Creation which I happened to come across in an old copy of Youth times, which
eventually led me to this...exquisite discovery.

A poster, a paean, a poem.

Regards,
Nelson JS Santhosh

[Martin adds]

Concrete poetry's okay in small doses, though I don't really care for it
overmuch. In this case, while I loved the image of red chili dust, and the
sensation of a slow drifting fall, I don't think the shape aspect adds
enough to it to justify its inclusion. In other words, I can't help but feel
that this would have worked better without the typographical 'tricks' - both
because they're distracting, and because they lend the poem an unwanted air of
playfulness that jars against what the words say.