Pain Pleasure and Paradox in Poetry: A Verse Compendium Read online

Pain Pleasure & Paradox in Poetry

  A Verse Compendium

  Pain Pleasure & Paradox in Poetry: A Verse Compendium

  Manu Mangattu

  First Published: May 2016

  Published and Distributed by

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  Copyright 2016 Manu Mangattu

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  Cover Design

  Joseph Francis

  TrinityMinds

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Isthmus of Pain and Joy (An Elegy)

  A Secret

  I Am 

  Me

  Manu and the Snake: A Tale of Woe

  Letter to Myself

  The Logic in Laughter

  Humans are Unique

  Beyond

  Everlasting Giants

  Hidden Treasures

  St John of Kronstadt and a Girl

  Love Criminal Justice

  The Woman Who Loved Roses 

  Mirror

  In Our Little Village

  Today is Very Boring

  After Depression

  A Sweet Sixteen

  Forever

  Second Chance

  Alone but not Lonely

  The Maze

  Alone Together

  One and Many

  First Goodbye

  The Tale of Love

  It Takes Some Darkness

  I wish I were Heartless

  To the Light

  Mother Tongue Complex

  White Nights

  Ironic Path

  About the Editor

  Preface

  It has often been observed that in the realm of poetry painful situations yield pleasure; pity and fear can transmute into a delightful and immensely enjoyable emotional state. Poetry seems to enjoy this unusual ability to liberate emotional states from their bondage with our ego so that these emotional states, however tragic and disconcerting they may be, turn out to be pleasurable. These experiences thrive largely on a harmonization of opposites, a state in which contradictions are not only juxtaposed but also interpenetrated. Far from being a perplexing and exasperating experience, as can be the case with contradictions encountered in real life, this harmonization is felt as a blissful condition, one that yields inner peace and fulfilment. Likewise, there is an obvious connection between the language of poetry and contradiction. Poetry often seems to use a language that relies heavily on oxymora, paradoxes and contradictions. Phrases like “the brilliant darkness of a hidden silence”, “dazzling obscurity”, “whispering silence”, “teeming desert” or “undivided division and differentiated unity” are not uncommon in poetry. This verse compendium is an attempt at anthologizing this puzzling chemistry between poetry and paradox. The thrust of this collection is on bringing to the fore the contradictory and paradoxical nature of poetic language and experiences. It showcases thirty-three distinctive poems on the theme penned by contemporary poets from different parts of the world.

  Manu Mangattu

  Editor

  Isthmus of Pain and Joy (An Elegy)

  Akachukwu Christoper Lekwauwa

  Christoper Lekwauwa was born in Eastern Nigeria on 4th of July 1986 as the fifth son of Felix and Ijeoma Uche. His Christian upbringing has had a strong formative influence on him. His deep-seated empathy for nature slowly branched out into love for literature and passion for poetry. A biomedical scientist and an entrepreneur with interest in fashion and designing, Christoper Lekwauwa is currently based in Southern Nigeria city of Yenagoa, practising Medical Laboratory Science. He asserts that he is a scientist, an entrepreneur, a poet and a Christian all rolled into one. “Isthmus of Pain and Joy” is an impassioned rendering of the speaker’s grief upon the death of his beloved father. The poem rolls out beautiful and familiar images one after the other, which upon juxtaposition, evoke a tranquil sensation that softly reminds us of the dualistic nature of human existence.

  Bitter cold on one side,

  The joy on the other kept blood

  From freezing in our veins.

  Darkness on one side,

  Light flickered warmly on the other.

  Tears covered one face,

  The other went forward with laughter.

  Rivers of tears were black and desolate,

  But pure joy was harvest in cluster.

  The equatorial calm in this half is eerie,

  The cries were no more than a faint whisper,

  Heard but for the great stillness all around.

  We sat beneath a cone of night

  In which no star would ever shine.

  The silence might have been speaking to me,

  Answering my doubts.

  Yes! We have travelled,

  The unimaginable distance that lay between pain and gain,

  Loss and victory.

  The dark sunless days are over.

  All things, bright and beautiful. 

  A Secret

  Anzelyne Shideshe

  Born in Kenya on 31st of August 1982, Anzelyne Shideshe moved to Mombasa in 2002 to pursue Sales and Marketing course at the Technical University of Mombasa. Passionate about writing and poetry, Anzelyne keeps on producing poems on diverse themes, at will and in profusion. She is currently settled in Germany (Baden Wurttemberg). Apparently a short and lucid poem, “A Secret” weaves together paradoxical images and contradictory words to hold the reader’s attention till the very last syllable. The ending of the poem leaves the reader in a daze, panting and wanting for more.

  YOU are a Hello!

  After a secret kiss,

  A friend without introduction,

  A fruit that was forbidden in the garden of Eden.

  You are a temptation,

  Alluring and seductive;

  We relate as the communication in the air,

  Tangible yet intangible,

  The more we are attracted the repellent we become.

  YOU are a secret love,

  A midnight angel,

  Come, let’s play our game,

  Of hide and seek,

  In our secret world,

  Let each other be.

  YOU are a dream,

  A shadow in the sun,

  A rainbow in the sky,

  To our planet of imagination,

  Together we exist,

  Flying away into the clouds,

  Where secrets are clouded. 

  I Am 

  Ari Alsio

  Ari Alsio was born in Hyvinkää, Southern Finland, on 12th June, 1956. Post his life as an entrepreneur in the construction business, Alsio has turned a free lord and writes poems for fun. His interests include, but are not limited to, dogs, oil painting, poetry and water colour. He has written palindromes and poems in the Kalevala meter ( a loose trochaic tetrameter used in the Finnish national epic Kalevala). Currently, he blogs in Uusi Suomi, a Finnish online newspaper. “I am” pictures the poet at crossroads. It is a rider’s snapshot as he drives past the poet. The poet knows only too well that at the end of that journey, the rider will find him, may be only him.

  The road forks, 

  Ditch on the side of the yellow tree.

  I'm sorry, I feel unwell, 

  Can you
leave me here?

  I do not want to travel with you, 

  Since your way leads to destruction.

  Skipping a ship plants

  Dusty leaves.

  I fall to the ground, 

  Finally, on feet.

  Go miserable and have fun, 

  All vanities away from me.

  Two of the ways - right and wrong, 

  How easy it is to go astray.

  The right way is not the most easiest to follow, 

  It is not the kings passed.

  Oh, how could understand to turn, 

  People now do not have to starve.

  Two roads branch off from each other, 

  Fleeing from one another.

  The second is the truth, 

  But the second is not even a lie.

  Pure trash it is, 

  pride, bravery, honor, riches.

  Life is a zero-sum game, 

  if you elect to glory, selects the same shame.

  No glory without shame, 

  not without pride subjugation, 

  no wealth without poverty, 

  not the mighty men without corpses.

  Two roads branch off from each other, 

  right and wrong.

  Two of view different from each other, 

  reasonable and legal.

  Two roads asunder zoom out, 

  ditch on the side of yellow on the tree. 

  Me

  Bharati Nayak

  Born on 26th May 1962 in Odisha, India, Bharati Nayak grew up in Cuttack and graduated from the famous Ravenshaw College. She completed her Master’s degree in Political Science from Utkal University Bhubaneswar. Writing fascinated her from a very young age. She used to contribute regularly to school magazines. She believes that writing is a powerful medium that can bring about social change. Her poetry has since come of age and has been published in numerous national and international magazines and anthologies. Miss Nayak wrote “Me” expressly for this verse compendium. The poem attempts to locate a poet among the generations. The speaker sees writings as the signature that a writer leaves for posterity. Centuries hence, people can still have a glimpse of the poet through the writings.

  Where was I?

  I rose from null

  And one day

  Vanish into void

  For a short period

  I play

  On this stage

  I pluck my words

  From the trees

  There are millions and millions

  I choose a few only

  To write here

  And put my sign

  Because when they will come

  They will find me

  In these letters

  Because in these letters

  I am and will always be

  In my presence and absence

  For generations from here

  Because these words

  Were there and will be there

  In their presence and absence.

  Manu and the Snake: A Tale of Woe

  [Thanks to ‘my Consultant’ Valsa George; ‘Inspired by' Prof Manu Mangattu]

  Bri Edwards

  Bri Edwards (1950- ), a native of Eureka, United States, considers himself a jokester who is often serious. He has served as a delivery truck driver, a day labourer, a hospital aide, an operating room technician, and as a USPS window clerk. Most of his poems have been written post 2004, the year when he retired. He loves to write lines that rhyme and delight the reader. He enjoys bird watching, walking, talking, and writing poetry. He confides that he is not a man of few words. “Manu and the Snake” wrestles with the theme of pain yielding pleasure in poetry. Set in a typical Indian village scene, the poem explores the pleasure-pain principle from a different angle. The poet wishes to place on record his gratitude to his Indian consultant Valsa George for her assistance with Indian idioms and clichés, and to the chief editor of this verse compendium Manu Mangattu for “inspiring” him to write this poem.

  'Don't forget to take your school book today! '

  [Manu's mum sent him off to school; HE'd rather play.]

  He took his book, and his tiffin box, filled with sweet lunch curry.

  He started out slowly; Manu was in NO hurry.

  He passed the neighbours' homes in his Indian village, 

  and passed the water well with its sign: 'No spillage! '

  Do this. Don't do that. (Manu disliked rules.) 

  'When I grow up I'll move to Mumbai! I'll not stay with village fools' ….

  [He THOUGHT. He dared not SAY to 'Mummy'!]

  Four kilos he had to walk ….to his little school.

  But Manu knew a wooded shortcut; he was NO fool.

  His mum had warned him to not 'short cut', for goodness sakes.

  'Manu, don't go into woods. It's full of hungry snakes! '

  But Manu knew better than his mum. Yes he did.

  He'd heard that in the daytime, all the snakes were hid.

  And if they were hidden, what would be the danger? 

  He'd be more concerned if he met (in woods) …..an 'evil stranger'.

  [Manu was NOT afraid!]

  As he walked along an animal trail through the wood, 

  he thought: 'If I skipped school I could fish. I could! '

  He might even go into the stream to enjoy a swim.

  Soon ‘skipping school' became a reality, NOT a whim.

  Manu did not know that, though snakes may HIDE, 

  they might want to catch a boy to put INSIDE …..their bellies! 

  He caught no fish; he had no hook, no net, or any trap.

  After an hour of wading and swimming, Manu took a nap.

  Awaking, he set out to where he could watch the school path.

  [He almost forgot to gather up his tiffin box and his book (Math) .]

  He had no clock, so he went to watch for students coming, 

  …..returning from school. As Manu walked the woods he was humming.

  [and hearing birds in the treetops]

  He was not paying attention to the trail and tripped.

  A fallen branch across the trail? A knife, into his leg, ripped.

  But NO! Not a knife, but many needle-sharp snake teeth.

  And then Manu fell, pinning a huge snake beneath …..

  him.

  But not the whole snake remained beneath him. Oh, no.

  Two coils soon surrounded him, followed by more coils, more SLOW……ly.

  Manu let out a shout, though there was no one to hear.

  The teeth still held tight, bringing to his eyes warm tears.

  So far the serpent held him snuggly but not TOO tight.

  With his wiry body, Manu struggled. He struggled with ALL of his might.

  He'd once seen a goat suffocated by just such a snake, 

  and he remembered the goat's death; not very long did it take.

  HE shouted once more. Then Manu SEEMED to give up …hope for good.

  He wished now he'd gone to school that day. He would now ……if he could.

  It wasn't that he was a very bad boy. Most often he was good.

  He wanted to see his mum again. He'd confess all to her; he WOULD! 

  He wished to see his papa too, his brothers, and his grandmum.

  He even wished to see his sisters, not as much …but some.

  Would the snake begin to eat him? Before Manu was dead? 

  These thoughts and many more …..went streaming ….through his head.

  The snake, meanwhile, had some thoughts of its own.

  'Stupid boy' it thought. 'He came through the woods alone.

  NO other children did such a thing. This boy isn't too smart.

  But I'll let him live longer. I like feeling the beating of his heart ………

  against my smooth, dry skin.'

  Manu could see his Math book, lying open near his head.

  He vowed aloud he'd be the best student, IF tonight …..h
e was not dead.

  He wondered what his mum would serve for an evening meal.

  He even wondered: 'Could this really be happening? Is THIS snake real? '

  [The snake was real indeed, and the biggest one he'd ever seen.]

  'Why is this snake doing this to me? Why is the snake so mean? ! '

  And the snake thought: 'I'm really not too hungry now.

  I was planning on a piglet for supper, not a boy ….big as a sow.'

  But she [the snake was a female] did not release Manu yet.

  She thought: 'I'll hold on longer. A piglet I may not soon get.'

  Yes, the snake was in no hurry to eat. Few people walked the trail.

  She eyed the boy. She unclamped her jaws. She twitched her tail.

  But her coils held Manu to the ground, though not tightly.

  Manu thought: 'To be swallowed by a snake would …….surely be unsightly.'

  He thought more of his family now, and of a few friends at school.

  If he survived he was sure some of them would call HIM a fool.

  He would not like that, but he'd like it more than being dead.

  All this, and many other thoughts, filled his young boy's head. 

  Nighttime came. He heard no voices; no rescuers appeared.

  The snake held on; the boy was hungry; his approaching death he feared.

  But he slept, though fitfully. He emptied out his bladder.

  He imagined his papa would be sad, and his mum even sadder.

  The snake, meanwhile, had thoughts of her own: 'What a silly boy! 

  To teach him a good lesson, I think, LONGER with him, I'll toy.

  SHE napped some as well. [Usually she'd prowl for prey at night.]

  Once she heard a tiger, but it passed her by, out of sight.

  [A full grown tiger she had reason to avoid. It had sharp claws and teeth, …..

  unlike the weary human child, wrapped in her scaly sheath.]