Ashvamegh: Issue XIII: February 2016: Poetry Section


Welcome to the poetry section of Issue XIII, February 2016. On this page, you can read the poems by selected poets and the featured poets. Read and enjoy!

The Featured Poets for Issue XIII

Scott Hastie

Read the Scott’s Poems

R W Haynes

Read R W Haynes’ Poems

Read R W Haynes Interview

Paul B Roth

Read Paul’s Poems

Poems by Pijush Kanti Deb

Poems by Pijush Kanti Deb


An introduction to the poet:

Pijush Kanti DebPijush Kanti Deb is a poet from India who has published a large number of poems in different journals and magazines nationally and internationally. He has also published a collection of his poems under the title The Shadow of a White Pigeon which is published by Hollow publishing and is available on Amazon online store.

Read two of his poems in this issue below.  






The Ever-Longing Good-luck

Coming over the difficulties-

the ever-longing good-luck,

maybe the slowest to come in

yet it never comes to a stand-still


it keeps

coming through

the lips and the eyes

whereon a bloomed park is set already,

enjoying a refreshing bath

under a fresh and cool fountain

falling from watchful brain to peaceful heart,

collocating itself

by the luminous creams

and the precious perfumes

evolved by

the good wishes and blessings of the angels-

both earthly and heavenly


bewitching the shadow of bad-luck too

to sneak away from the desert

which we come across sometimes

and no doubt

with in a moment

an oasis is bloomed

with a solution to the brain-beating difficulties.



Everything is Possible in Love and War

It seems to be too difficult to obey


a self-centered man is prohibited

from insulting his own dutiful watch,

and advised too to

let it run and touch the deadline

but before it rings the final bell of apocalypse

he should remember

his own beloved canvas

on which some demanding faces are drawn

by his tickling passion already,

make them as his fuel

and run his vehicle

without taking his foot off the accelerator ,

be good to devil and god both

and accumulate their black and white blessings

and sprinkle these on his canvass

whereon he is being cheered by the hilarious faces

round the clock

who want only  success and abundance,

be a runner  to save  his remunerative time

though it makes his pulse rate abnormal,

be a sacrificed

and make your death also valuable for them.

Is it possible?

Oh dear, everything is possible in love and war.

Poems by Neeharika P

Poems by Neeharika


An introduction to the poet:

Neeharika P


Neeharika P is an engineering student (final year) with a deep interest in creative writing. Several of her poems along with a short story have been published in different magazines. She loves writing and reading. Moreover, she aspires to be a writer in the near future.

Read two poems by Neeharika selected for this issue.









A latched Bunny

“Hear oh hear

Latched a bunny, of a cage,

Comes a monster, of an age”


“Fool us not, oh poor magician,

With all your wasted illusions”


“Fools of fools comes a wise,

And who not best, than a wise, to judge trickery!

Prove me wrong, and spun can be all my money.”


“Trickery starts with this

Caged a bunny, with fear of hunters,

Drops of rain, echoed as thunders.

Shiver it did in a chant of words,

The world outside is a curse.


Its paws and eyes, shut for years,

Death came as an only end.

To surrender death? Am i alive? It questioned, ashamed.

And in first opened its eyes.


In angst, it throbbed, alas! it failed,

With fear moulded in every wall.

For years to come, it throbbed and throbbed,

Until in pain opened its paws.


Pain a monster gave it strength,

Breaking a cage, buried till the end.


With a wicked smile, I ask you this

Bewildered are you, are you not

My friend?”


“Bewildered i am, for no doubt,

But fails not to linger a thought

A monster you speak, is a latched Bunny

Not of fear, but of pain!”


Shocked and shunned,The magician spoke none.

His money was all spun,And was never seen again.


Name of his was forever a mystery,

Only the wise knew,he was the latched bunny”.


An angst nomad

“Vexed of future, now is lost.

Vexed of love, lost is whole.


Hurt known fears, raises Mountains,

Sculpts a coward, dwelling amid-st them,

Words spoken are just, not meant.

Gestures shown are right, not true.


In, out, gay he wasn’t.

A Quest in shielding pain,

Shielded a part of his self.


With angst clenched, he whoops.

Breaking fear in rocks,

Throbbing fear in mountains,

Lest not breaking.


From fight and fought,

A cut, a bleed, a wound, sensed numb.

He stopped never,

Lest was trapped forever.


Tired, he drowns his fist, of ice

Lays down a heavy head.

Tears of his could fill a river,

And broken wills, could welcome death.


“Question me

Who is you” he begs,

“A soulless, angst nomad, I know

My shadow shades,

Under, sea of clouds”

He Echoes his ache.


The World glares, from out, Knowing,

Oblivion had devoured him,

And of suspense if he could win.”