Uncut Poetry

Who Do You Choose to Become When Alone

If there's anything I've learnt in these hurting times, it is how bruises crept into me, unawares, unannounced. Here I am one day, coping up famously, and the next minute I've collapsed within myself, in a paroxysm of uncontrolled depression. Without raising a thought, I'm  hurt grievously. The world just doesn't understand. Nobody can see a hurt - hence I can't be.
 
Whilst, in the meantime, I am sinking, sinking, in a morass of undefinitions. There's no end to the depth, there's no recognizable sign of what drags me in,  what is the nature of climate change that it is both a famine and a flood, where I'm empty and swollen, where I want to grasp whatever I can, as if it's the last straw of the world, and when unable to hold anything, I just let myself go. I rage and cut myself, and break glass, and hurl myself where there is empty space, I can visualize the worst and know it's the end of the world for me,  I don't expect understanding, I don't expect help, I don't recognize help, I know my life to be in the hands of something without definitions, unloved, unappreciated, hung in the middle of nowhere where nobody visits, a place of abandonment, where only the rejects reside - me, me , me.
 
And I ask myself, why am I needed? What am I worth to anybody? Why is a life of value, why is anything of value? The flowers, the breeze, the insects, the eagles, the flies, are paraphernalia to create a world of falsehoods, where everything is marketed, and everything sold is instantly useless.
 
And I say why do I exist, why do I live, why am I here, what can I contribute, what do I matter. What do I matter? What do I matter?
 
And I tell myself goodbye. I'm not sure if I appreciate myself leaving myself alone. But that's the only place left to go.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on loneliness and desolation -  
The Improbability of Wishes
The Final Goodbye (or Why Lovers Decide to Die Together)
Lost Atlas of Belonging
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
Subscribe to my newsletter The Uncuts here - https://theuncuts.substack.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Blockbuster Atmosphere 3 (Resolution) by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/130-blockbuster-atmosphere-3-resolution-License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
Sometimes by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/142-sometimesLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

Stopping by a Café to Drink a Poem

"How do you choose a poem to write? she asked.
How do you find the pulse of that vein,
that something precious which is nowhere?"
 
Where does a poem come from? Where is its birth place? What is its ancestry?
 
I have found poetry as a wound finds its scar, or a plucked flower finds an altar. The process is organic like breathing and unstructured as a heart plunging. It often starts as a curiosity to know deeply about something, a desire to unravel, to understand. But  quickly it becomes an investigation, an overwhelming desire to unravel light.  Fingers become a conduit, ink is the blood which starts flowing from the wounds which burst to reveal truths.
 
And I see myself clearer, and I see myself uglier. I might not realize that deep inside this ugliness lies the ultimate secret.  Because till then I have not realized that all truths are beautiful, however hideous they might seem. And that's when poetry enters it's most tremulous state - that of healing. For a poem, finally, is a true friend. It is both a mirror and a hand. It jolts you at the same time as it holds you. 
 
You will know whether you've encountered a great poem when you emerge from it fully drenched, lacerated, scarred - but strangely, strangely, alive.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which are rich with the aroma of coffee & love -  
Coffee, You & Me
Searching for Coffee in Jaipur
Lovers In The Morning
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Falling Star by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/90-falling-starLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
Angels by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/53-angelsLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

New Year Special! Top 5 of Uncut Poetry!!

Hello all you lovers, of poetry, of good things, of love itself. As we start a brand new year, we can only hope to dig out joy out of the debris of despondence and despair. I hope my poetry has been a companion to you, week after week, on all things hopeful, zen-like, heart-breaking but heart-healing too. Every page of my poetry is a survival manual of sorts for me. I hope I have made you come alive too.
 
I thought it would be a good idea to hear the five most downloaded episodes of Uncut Poetry.
 
So, with new introductions, please find the top 5 of Uncut Poetry! 
 
The poems featured are -
I Think I am in Love with You
Indian Summers
I Love You
The Girl Who Could Lose Everything for Hope
Call Me By Your Name
I have dipped my pen into my bruises, I have laid down my scars as lines. The music is often a celebration of being alive, and often because I have survived. This journey of thoughts and feelings will continue, and I can only ask you to walk with me, step-to-step, word-to-word, heartbreak-to-heartbreak, healing-to-healing. I promise I will walk on. Can you in turn promise to be with me? 
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
On Fire by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/5147-on-fireLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
Lockdown by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/7658-lockdownLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
Sentimental Travel by MusicLFilesLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/6968-sentimental-travelLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

The Slant of the Winter Sun

"Much of the world has dug deep
into the quilty warmth of bodies,
wishing the winter to  find its way away 
and let sleep wrap them in its insidious ways.
And the glory of sun lies lost outside,
wasted in lighting corner dustbins,
and nooks
where spiders glisten as anointed lures.
 
Winter mornings are glorious. If only we get to see them.
 
Ensconced in our blankets, our bodies held in the warmth of other bodies, the seduction of status quo is overwhelming. But there's too much which is lost even as we gain in our winter sleep. The winter chill is just a presence, benign, expected, there. Nothing can match the sudden bite of it's wind, the cold regality of things in a state of temporary rigor mortis, the infinitesimal beauty of a dewdrop freezing in its track - and how everything dissolves in front of our eyes as the sun rises. For embedded deep beyond in its cold touch, is the magic of it's warmth.
 
The winter sun often feels like a touch, evanescent, too gentle for a cruel world, too soft for impact, too fleeting to lay a mark. But it has magic. It's presence is alchemy. Everything opens up to it, everything raises its face to it, eyes closed, trusting it for rejuvenation, resurrection.
 
It floods the world quickly, looking in askance where it can't reach, lying silently beside dark corners to let them know it's here, coming as hope to those clenched deep into themselves.
 
Like love, it's presence is more consequential than its persistence.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which take you back into the sunlight - 
In the Softest Sunshine of Winter
Mother's Rambling Lessons on Life Imparted in Morning Walks
Sipping Tea in a Rumi Morning
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Epic Emotional Positive by MusicLFilesLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/7510-epic-emotional-positiveLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

A Home as An Open Dream

"We would talk of the day to make
the outside world our own,
and lay joint claim
to our individual memories."
 
A home is of so many definitions. The place we grow in, the place we get our first intimations of the living world, the place we are desperate to get to at the end of a day - but also the place we are desperate to leave as we grow.
 
Often a shelter, often a prison, often just a roof, often the very symbol of unquestioning acceptance. We learn the meaning of bruises from those in the next room,  and the ill-imitable depth of love from those further down the hall. We learn there is often no difference between the command of an elder and the confines of an ego. We learn of chains of command and of the subtle exertion of real power.
 
We learn how some of the hardest decisions come from the softest heart, and male prerogative is often just a cover for cluelessness. We leave home for pilgrimages, when actually we are in search of a home. 
 
Home is deep nights and late escapes. Home is often of going away without looking back. And to die in peace often only means to have  found that address which we can finally call home - and to have that address find us.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which take you back home (and its strange dynamics!) - 
It Takes a Long Time to Arrive From Not Very Far Away
Extraordinary Life
A Morning Ramble on How Love is Rediscovered at the Bottom of Rubble
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Romantic Piano  by Rafael KruxLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/5471-romantic-piano-License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

I Am a Residue of Life

"I'm a multiplier of the breeze and the sunsets which have moved through me, I'm a quiver of hurts I can ruthlessly give. I'm withdrawn without reason, I can be generous without a reason too."
 
Anyone's identity is rarely singular - it's a bunch of elements, and mostly, a bunch of contradictions. There is never a case of knowing oneself, but only of accepting oneself. But accepting oneself is a phenomenon. Within its largeness lies the acceptance of others also, as they are. Messy, volcanic, turbulent -whatever everyone is, to accept each as manifestations of the universe, representation of life itself, each one a part of a whole, who we can puzzle over for a lifetime, or simply enjoy as they are. 
 
But more than anything else, each person in our life completes us, with their peculiarities and quiddities. Each one, however small and short their presence in our lives, is a part of the jigsaw puzzle that we are. We can never be complete on our own, we can never discover who we are, alone.
 
We are a community, we work with others, for a reason. We are thrown together with all kinds of  people, with a purpose. To know what is despicable and not go on that road, or to find a mirror in someone else, recognize ourselves for what we never knew ourselves to be, and know the truth of ourselves.
 
And to learn to be gentle with ourselves, within the trauma of revelations. We then, finally, fall in love with ourselves. 
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of self-determination - 
Searching for Coffee in Jaipur 
Hope is Merely Fear with a Poor Choice of Lipstick
The Power of No
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.
 
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
1000 Lichter by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/3161-1000-lichterLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
5 vor 12 by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/2973-5-vor-12License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

The Improbability of Wishes

"There's always a road waiting
for one of the lovers to depart."
 
The saga of love is a play of light and shadow. There is incident, coincidence, an assemblage of adrenalin, a bellowing of blood, a singling out of songs, a resurgence of senses. Love arranges it's own arrivals, often as a storm, frequently as a story, most often as winter sun. It rearranges parts of our life, it splinters our days in ways that distance hurts -  the desire to be, see, touch, smell, immerse, borders on desperation.
 
For deep inside, every lover knows that embedded in the ecstasy of a love story is it's extinction. Sometimes as slow burn, sometimes as a turn on the road, generally as gentle drift, often as an exercise of getting lost.
 
And then the helplessness ensues. Compasses point towards the setting sun, the flowers coalesce into routine, the days stop beckoning, sunrises only show autumns. But it is as if it's preordained - just as love is as much a part of life as breathing, separation is it's conjoined twin.
 
Why does love wither? Where does it go when it's gone? Are there secret burial grounds for love, epitaph-less, unmarked? Is there a floating cemetery of feelings in heaven for lost love - a consideration for the hurt, commiseration for the haunted, a soul for the homeless?
 
Because the inevitability of drift is in love's DNA,  it's loss is in its definition, it's celebration is forever aforetime. But we accept its inevitable tragedy, because our life is governed by its presence, and gets its mojo from its promise.
 
The journey, in life, or love, then, is everything.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of poignant separations - 
Heartbreak
Lovers of Broken Mountains
Fallen Flowers
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.
 
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Reaching The Sky  [Long Version] by Alexander NakaradaLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/6222-reaching-the-sky--long-versionLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
 

When the Evening Drift Brings Him to Me (for Dad)

"I see him standing with the skies,
grafted into the clouds,
the breeze resting in his hair,
a black & white etching to life.
 
I gently come behind him,
put an arm around his shoulders,
as his drift leans into me,
he looks at me soft, soft."
 
I have often stood at the window with my dad, as evenings have drifted in. We've not always spoken much, but after all our years, we are just grateful to have the time we have together.
 
Whilst growing up, he was the person to whom I turned to for every question. For me, he could never have a wrong answer. My mum was my compass, but my dad was my guide. In a strange way, without expressing it, without saying anything explicitly, he became my embodiment of truths and life's fulfillments.
 
I doubt he's ever said "I love you, son," to me. It would have felt, and would still feel, awkward. But the truth of those words didn't require their spelling out.
 
It was there in his patience for me, his gentleness to me, his waiting for me, his giving his hand to me.
 
My mum, on the other hand, was always in search of the 'truth' and 'meaning' of things. Swinging from one guru to another, one religious text to another, her quest was unquenchable. I loved her stories of the journey. And I realized much before she did (if she did at all!), that it was the journey which had meaning for her, not the end.
 
In our search for the fount and meaning of life, we are often waylaid by those who complicate truths. When truly, all truths of life are found in just two things -  gratitude and presence.
 
We can be masters of life and love, if we can be masters of the moment. Embodied in that truth is the script of our entire life. 
 
And I see my dad saying 'I love you' to life with every breath.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which are a tribute to our mum and dad - 
Mother's Rambling Lessons on Life Imparted in Morning Walks in my Childhood
My Mother's Lines
Tea-a-Tete with Mum & Dad
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.
 
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Elysium by  Alexander Nakarada
Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/8451-elysium
License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

The 101 of How to Praise (someone you love)

To receive praise is a need and how to praise is an art.
 
We tend to be so focused on fulfilling our own desires, that we forget that so many of these fulfillments happen because someone else went on a limb for us. Do we always acknowledge? Or do we just move on, unthinkingly? And the irony is that those who support us silently, who give the wind beneath our wings without being asked, are the ones who need acknowledgement the most.
 
The strange thing about giving to someone you love is that you even give in the worst of times - and without any gratitude in return, and often it empties you, and you question yourself, but you carry on - you still find reservoirs from where you pour yourself out.
 
And then acknowledgement comes, often as a look, often as a touch, often as a lump in the throat - and in no time you are full again.
 
And how should we praise? How can something which is quietly done, often life-saving, invariably invaluable, be ever repaid? Nothing can match love's silent act in value, intent, or intensity.
 
So you can only be like the winter sun - warm without being cloying, present in spite of the cold, generous because that's what your nature should be.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of the gentlest of feelings -
It Takes a Long Time to Arrive From Not Very Far Away
Tea with Naomi Shihab Nye
Tenderness
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.
 
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Winter Night by Frank SchröterLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/6910-winter-nightLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

When the Goddesses Depart

"All the goddesses have upped and left,
as they are wont to do.
They fought a bit,
showed a few dead bodies,
got us to note the weaponry -
the heads they'd severed, 
the wild rides they could summon -
then dived into inescapable imaginations,
depths they could escape only in a year.
 
Beyond the sweltering of allegories
and the heavy lifting of metaphors,
in the dismal gloom of departure,
will lay the memory of sweat  -
for the celestial after-smell is more dour than Dior. 
 
The goddesses herald hope,
but with intimations of winter,
with the message that battles could be won,     
but not seasons,
and in the inevitability of a divine victory
lies the onus of legacy
left in our care.
Embedded in the lights
which show the way in the dark dawn
lies the start of the real war -
the daily common life.
 
But as long as we know the goddesses as breath,
there's both hope and despair -
we will trudge home with self-injuries,
but we will survive."
 
As autumn begins, and winter peeps into the world, the goddesses begin to come to earth. One after another - Durga, Laxmi, Saraswati. The warmth and energy of their stories prepares us to withstand the rigors of a figurative and metaphorical winter. But in the aplomb, noise and glitter, we often forget that their battles are metaphysical messages and their victories are vision statements.
 
They are celebrations but also reminders. And they are recurrent because man tends to remember the minutiae and forgets the essence.
 
The richness of allegories is our cultural repast, and a yearly reminder that time could pass, but any particular moment is always the right time for new beginnings.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of the divinity in various forms -
Making Love in a Cathedral on a Stormy Day
The Sublime in the Ordinary
Fear in a Prayer's Home
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.
 
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Sehnsucht by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/2922-sehnsuchtLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license