Results of POEWAR at Book Readers Lounge - Writers & Poets Group

POEWAR - a poetry competition was held on our facebook group - BRL - Writers & Poets. The duration for the competition was 3 days beginning June 16, 2011 and ending on 18 June. An event was created specifically for this competition on facebook and it was organized by Siddharth & Hitesh(yours truly). You can read the rules of the competition - here.

We received 31 entries in all for the competition. There were a very good number of deserving entries, thus making it tough to choose a winner, but Poewar Judge - Shreya Chatterjee, a published poetess made it possible and made it look easy too. 

All members of Book Readers Lounge and participants of this competition heartily thank her for assuming the dual role of Judge & Chief Guest inspite of being so busy with work and giving her precious time to this competition.

Here is a brief BIO of Shreya Chatterjee

Shreya Chatterjee is a writer by profession and poet at will. In spite of handling two professions that leave her little time for leisure, she manages to read books, write reviews and manage two blogs.

Her blogs are:

1. http://wizardmeetsvagabond.blogspot.com/ 

2. http://wanderer-onestep.blogspot.com/ 

She has been writing poems and articles for various magazines like “Raison d'être“, “Bonhik”, “Kindle Magazine” and few others.

She frequently writes in Poetry forums like Jingle Poetry, One Shot Poetry. She was featured recently on ofindianorigin.co.uk

Her debut novel of poems – “Musings of a Wanderer” was recently published by Power Publishers.
It is collection of poems that speaks about the simple pleasures of life.
Know more about her book at http://goo.gl/NBCD6

The Winning Entries of the competition are as follows:

1. GRAYSCALE by Aihik Sur is the winner of this competition
2. THE FIRST DROP by Aram Bhushal is the first runner-up
3. THE RESURRECTION by Avishekh Das is the second runner-up

Congrats to the winners. 

If you are looking forward to participate in such competitions then join our facebook group - BRL - Writers & Poets.

The wining poems are as below:

1. Grayscale

I see the world through my window,

gray and dirty,

the rain drop clashed with a clamour on the pane,

colorless and impure.

Poured into the puddle at the end of the street,

where drank the beggar the mud water with greed.

While the dog tried licking his face,

he threw her down with feeble grit.

She whimpered in pain but in vain,

she wept so did the girl next door,

all for being abused by the one they loved.

Those futile tears dried as the world did outside,

and they went back to their men shamelessly,

cuddles and lots of affection,

the sudden past forgotten certainly.

And the next day it again rained.

2.The First Drop

Walking to nowhere I feel the pain,

I have no sorrows or more pains to gain,

Still I look on and walk the way,

Men are here to move, not to stay !!

I ignore the clouds mounting up dark,

Showing all differences in a manner of stark,

Black clouds need not always mean bad,

Sunshine is always not a fad !!

Strolling the way ignorant of the drops,

Like a farmer unaware of his crops,

I move on defying my rules,

I have not noticed the forming of the pools !!

And here the drop hits my face,

It wakes me up from all the rat race,

The thunder shakes the slumber off,

This was natures polite little cough !!

I wake up to feel the God's latest gift,

How I wish to end the rifts,

It's a new begining to wash afresh,

Let the soul be drained with the flesh !!

I let the monsoon drench me to my core,

This is exactly what I adore,

Letting the moments pass drip by drip,

My soul is off to a peaceful trip ...

3. The Resurrection

She was weeping,her wails drown
the thunder,sweeping accros
the city streets,at a loss..
Three,two,one,the countdown
to an end,the sight of her son,
lying in a pool of blood,
conscious faces gaze and sigh...

Thirteen nights before,his first birthday
Gifts of chilled memories showered today
Frozen,she picks his severed arms
and flungs it towards the thousand germs,
gathered around the gory sight,
Sirens blare,red everywere,
but the resurrection still awaits...

Than he picks himself up,
watches his mother cry,he
feels her hand,but numb is her head,
Comes to me,I wipe his tears
We fly to a distant land
of white doves and a golden hand,
all the time praying,
give peace a chance....