ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  April 2017
volume 14 number 1
-table of contents-
 
  home   (archived)
 
  contributing poets
  Shawn Aveningo
  Stefanie Bennett
  Paulo Brito
  Holly Day
  Marvin Louis Dorsey
  Neil Ellman
  Timothy Gager
  Jerry Garcia
  David Herrle
  Julia Knobloch
  Marie C Lecrivain
  Emma Lee
  Ron Lucas
  Karen J McDonnell
  Alison Ross
  Walter Ruhlmann
  Rishan Singh
  Bobbi SInha-Morey
  Zev Torres
  RK Wallace
 
  home
  poets
  poems
  archive
  submissions
  mailing list
  store
  links
  contact
   
Rishan Singh
April 2017
   

 

bio


photo by rina rose

    Rishan Singh was the recipient of the 2014 eThekwini Municipality Library Award. He is also the recipient of the Golden Key award for excellent academic accomplishments, awarded to him in 2008. His poetry has been well received locally as well as abroad, and is often praised for its irregularity, which is sometimes poetic, and never rhetoric.
    During the 2014 awards ceremony held by the KwaZulu-Natal Department of Leisure, Parks and Recreation, he was selected into the top 20 entries,and eventually made the top 5, which included South Africans of different socio-economic backgrounds. He received praise for his poetry on many occasions, and was a participant in the Sol Plaatje Poetry Award competition, sponsored by the European Union on two occasions. In the United States of America, his fiction writing appears in books, and is often lauded for its creativity, although not entirely poetic.

   

 

Mending

The hurt of ones
heart ceases to leave
behind its scar.
This is the pitiful
truth that's the
result of our deeds.

The wound wraps
around itself like amber
that turns to black
in the dark.

People around don't
mend their ways:
They drive from left
To right.

The clueless roam for
their possessions:
the things we feel matter
only so little
to strangers.

We find dirt
between the sand, and marble
between our toes to
give relief.
The pain like ice-leafs,
cry deep within its territory:
The tears hold themselves
with faces that smile to
the Earth.
It bears the hot, cold,
luke the storm which it
embeds within its footed
print, like the amber transformed
back to purple.

The white left behind leaves
a remembrance for an occasion, whether
today or the next, where the
dices mix in search
of a place; on the ground.

copyright 2017 Rishan Singh