Uncut Poetry

Finally Home

The concept of home is such a simple complexity. Is it a presence, a search, a destination, a desire, a lover or a DIY?
 
Are it's contours predetermined, a work-in-progress, a shallow end of the pool or the deepest part of the ocean?
 
It it a place to rest before the next bout of restlessness or is it the place to determine destinations?
 
How does its being get significance - by a mere return every evening or a filling of space or a collection of accoutrements? 
 
Does it come with a character predetermined or is it a mere reflection of what makes the universe inside us?
 
Do adventures end in a home? Do they get beget here? Do they find their demise, their resurrection, their meaning and their scripting here? Or is it a mere cemetery, where everything is laid to rest, albeit with tenderness?
 
What is a home? Do we require it only for replenishment and shelter? Or is it something which is a part of what we are , and in turn makes us what we are?
 
What is home?
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of the warmth of a home -
A Home as An Open Dream
The Door is Unlocked. I am Awake
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 -
BRIO 1 by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/232-brio-1License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

I Never Wanted Parts of You Which Were Easy

I Never Wanted Parts of You Which Were Easy*
 * From a line in the BBC serial "Vigil"
 
 
"There are always some bits of light
for both of us to take away,
but you do want the entire buffet of effulgence."
 
Time and again relationships slip into presuppositions - and we start taking the ones who are closest to us for granted. We find our own needs overriding our sensitivity to the soul-twitches and mood-swingers of our loved one's aching hearts. So much of what is good in us is drowned in the morass of the quotidian. We deflect, we ignore, we stop noticing, we stop holding, hugging, caring. All that matters is our anguish, our petulance, our paraphernalia.
 
We are lost in our own contracted world.
 
And the ones we ignore because of our self-obsession, quietly suffer on the fringes. We fret and we wonder what went wrong. Till the realisation sinks in that though we profess to love somebody, we are only in love with ourselves.
 
We then realize that much of life’s meaning, and often our own worth, is derived from others. We understand ourselves better, through the wisdom of others, our arrogance is softened when we encounter the simplicity of the truly wise. We are overwhelmed with light when we crack the hard exterior of our self-centeredness.
 
When we draw people we profess to love towards ourselves, only when our lives are buffeted by freezing  winds, or when we realise that the world's adulation is a fickle being, we stand the danger of being rebuffed in turn. Nothing is static in the universe, not even love. And as we pass from one mirror to another, we finally come to the one which is cracked. And in the tragedy of this realisation lies the irrevocability of love which has now given up.
 
Churn always brings change, and the power of the anguished ‘no more’ has reverberations  which can shake our universe.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of the strains in relationships -
On Breaking up (Without Breaking)
Love's Night of the Long Knives
How to Hold Love as it Breaks
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 -
Mandela by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/209-mandelaLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
Atomic by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/119-atomicLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
 

New York: Concurrently Schizophrenic.

Whenever I travel to USA, wherever I might be, I try to come back through New York. It is a magnet to my senses. I could stand for hours in its art galleries, but also days on its streets. Sometimes as an onlooker, sometimes as a part of its unending swirl. The city's smoke and movement, it's glittering heights and its grimy innards, its populace with purpose, the hopelessness of its hobos. Its glass, its ostentation, its purpose, its hope, its possibilities. The way the city assimilates me into its poetry, the way its hardness empties me and its art fills me, New York is a sensory overload.
 
And it changes hues, borough to borough, bridge to bridge, suburb to suburb. And as I travel, I am filled with the confusion of the person who wants to pin down a city into a pithy phrase. For within this one city lie a hundred possible faces. The arty, the grimy, the soaring, the sparing, the vulgar, the simple. And the definitions come as a smorgasbord of meanings and possibilities. The way we are, the way all of us are - never one, always multidimensional, always a contributor, always a purveyor. Often a victim, often a voyeur, often a little bright, ever so often unmitigatingly sad. New York, concurrently schizophrenic, indeed.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems with a city as it backdrop -
Calcutta - a Lover's Epitaph
Searching for Coffee in Jaipur
Crimson Flowers in Jallianwala Bagh
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 -
Nu Jazz Lounge Vol 2 (Mondtanz Edit) by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/141-nu-jazz-lounge-vol-2-mondtanz-edit-License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

Capturing the Feeling

"...the cold's mood would be agreeable
as it opened its vulnerabilities to the warmth,
and she would lay in it,
like a cat in nirvana,
and I would be beside her,
looking at her,
knowing her presence, her silence,
as just persuasions for me to be with her."
 
We often forget people, we forget their faces. We forget the cut of his jaw, or the slope of her breast. We forget the texture of her hand as it held ours, the pucker of her nose as she laughed, we forget the galaxy of freckles on his back, or how her skin folded next to her thighs. Time robs so much away, often with heartbreak, often as a healer.
 
But what we don't forget about people is how they make us feel.
 
The warmth she spread with that laugh, the quiet recognition of worth he gave with his being, the comfort in her steady voice as the world crashed around, the definition of value embedded in the aromas of his kitchen, the magnetic charm of her mind as she spoke of a book, the serenity found on her breast after a long day of sighs.
 
Life's trajectory is determined not by the events or the crisis or the highs of happenstances - these are a given, a must, if you live life long enough. A person's memory, her longevity in our blood, the persistence of his lingering trace, are all factors of what we know about ourselves whenever we were with them. The legacy of people is less a cumulation of our experiences with them, and more a residue of their dust and stardust. 
 
The tactility of memory is an algorithm of the pleasure, hurt, ache, tenderness, ruin, cheer, kindness, bruising, which life's trajectory leaves in its wake as remembrance. The true worth of life is in what it makes us feel. The true worth of people is what they make us feel.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the beatific beauty of the sun -
The Slant of the Winter Sun
In the Softest Sunshine of Winter
Lovers in the Morning
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 -
The Way To Kataka by Sascha Ende®Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/11-the-way-to-katakaLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 

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