Self-Song – A Poem

Today is the Bengali New Year (Shubho Noboborsho or Poila Boishak). Since people from West Bengal mark this festivity as a time of auspicious beginnings, I thought that I should write a poem to mark a sacred beginning of my own creation.

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Water-Forms Poetry Project: Final Poem

A poem about water-forms.

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Water-Forms Poetry Project – Part 1

Hello again, I’m back with (more) attempts at writing poetry and an update about starting Hilary Term (i.e. Term 2) at Oxford. Since I’ve been gone, I’ve been writing away for our weekly essays about everything including the lives of saints in Old English up until the modernist experiments of T.S. Eliot. I’ve taken up…

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Falling in Love – A Poem

Trees spilling with boughs of white flowers Like bright eyes, shrouded in the waxy palms of leaves I watch some fall, stolen by the breeze, I watch them fall (in love). Petals unfurling, they embrace the dusk with open arms, sprinkling the earth. Hush. Listen to them land: tiny, soft blankets for unseen slumbering fairies.…

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Breathe In Dawn, Breathe Out Starlight: A Poem

Breathe in Dawn, Breathe out Starlight – some poetic observations on the endless intelligence and regeneration of the natural world around us.

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Waterfall (A Poem by Shreya Manna)

Sometimes I feel like a waterfall wrestling with gravity I am heavy and torrential and endlessly crashing against granite. Somehow I spill into the canals dug by words,  Slowing, a stream, rolling along soft clay. What I see is a stream of consciousness moving forward. What I see is the endless play of elements as…

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Dear God, Why Did You Make The Night? (A Poem)

It shocks me beyond words to think of the horror that the girls in the Muzaffarpur children’s home in Bihar have faced. This poem cannot come close to expressing the damage that such sexual, mental and physical violence does. Nevertheless, I had to write about it. This poem is for those girls and their immeasurable…

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Isabella; or, The Pot of Basil

A pot of basil, two lovers and a tragedy. It’s a plot that will always sound like you’ve heard it before (save for the pot of basil.) This week, read my take on the tragic Romantic-era poem ‘Isabella’ by Keats.

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A Painter’s Tissue: A Poem

The blog hath risen from its slumber! As I have had some free time over the Spring Break, I managed to scribble down this poem. This is inspired by some of my recent reading: Shakespeare’s ‘Marriage of True Minds’ and Carol Ann Duffy’s ‘Valentine’. 

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The Grandmother-Great: A Poem by Shreya Manna

How do I introduce this poem? It is about a beginning or an end that I will ever fully understand. It is about a poem in it’s own way; a human one, a memento of your heritage. What you are about to read is the humble attempt of a great-granddaughter, who, making her own way…

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