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100 THOUSAND POETS for CHANGE :


Readathon 2012

EasyLib and Puffin Books sponsored Readathon 2012 concluded with a bang!
Children, you amazed us yet again with your reading! Take a peek here to see what you all read. Hearty congratulations to all the participants.
Writer Poile Sengupta was at the library on the 25th of May for a book reading and interactive session with the participants and to distribute prizes. Thank you Poile, for an energetic evening!

A big thank you to Puffin Books for sponsoring prizes. And, as the winners can vouch for it, they were very generous book hampers!

Winner of the Readathon 2012 Contests! Click here to see the winners and reviews.




EasyLib participates in the global event 100 THOUSAND POETS for CHANGE :

A big thanks to all the poets and poetry lovers who shared their favourite poems on the EasyLib's facebook wall. Here is a compilation of all the posts. This was our little effort to participate in the event 100 THOUSAND POETS for CHANGE .

Poem by Ogden Nash
Contributed by: Vani Mahesh

I would live all my life in nonchalance and insouciance
Were it not for making a living, which is rather a nouciance.

Sleeping In The Forest - Mary Oliver
Contributed by: Shefali Tripathi Mehta

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

"Here" -- Aracelis Girmay
Contributed by: Indus Chadha

Here are your seesaw years. Here
are all the things you prayed for. Where do they go?
Here is the yellow, yellow day. Here is the black,
black night. Here is breath. Here is a love
you have not had to leave, not yet,
not yesterday, not this morning, who knows,
oh, terrible & beautiful & giant,
hibiscus here, is a fruit tree, a day,
a god who looks you in the face
despite your fifty heartbreaks, now,
Here is a god to make you sing & pray to,
oh, good & wrecked & here & here & here.

Faith
Contributed by: Nidhi Mahesh

A question precedes and follows
every time I close my eyes
to find faith

why, what, how...
rationale, logic,
justification,
the search begins
and in the whirlpool of thoughts
so called reality prevails

And then, another set of questions
what is it,
real, surreal, or otherwise?
what is that we see-
the facade, or a mask
or a make-believe...
why should it matter,
and again, why should it not?

No, I am not faithless,
not yet,
I do believe
that the answers are there-
waiting to be found.
I follow thus
mirage after mirage...
soak in the dry sand of time
and wait for the illusive drops
that will quench the thirst
and answer all the questions...
I do believe,
faith is not dead,
it is just on comma.

The Walrus and the Carpenter by Lewis Carroll
Contributed by: Catherine Rhea Roy

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

An untitled poem of William Wordsworth
Contributed by: R.Rajagopal. (age 74)

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!
The child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my day to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

" Do not Quit” (Poet unknown)

Success is, 'Failure turned inside out',
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,

So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit,
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

When things go wrong, as they some times will,
When the real you are trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and debts are high,
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When fate is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but do not quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us some time learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won, had he stuck it out.
Do not give up, though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed, with another blow.

The Lobster-quadrille by Lewis Carroll
Contributed by: Neethi K Mahesh

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle -- will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?

"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!"
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance --
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France --
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you joint the dance?
September 25 at 7:30pm · Like · 3

Vandana Pandit THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

'One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.'

Make your mark -- David barker
Contributed by: Sharanya Iyer

In the quarries should you toil,
Make your mark;
Do you delve upon the soil,
Make your mark;
In whatever path you go,
In whatever place you stand
Moving swift or moving slow,
With a firm and honest hand,
Make your mark.
Should opponents hedge your way,
Make your mark;
Work by night or work by day,
Make your mark;
Struggle manfully and well,
Let no obstacles oppose;
None, right-shielded, ever fell
By the weapons of his foes;
Make your mark.
What though born a peasant's son;
Make your mark;
Good by poor men can be done;
Make your mark;
Peasants' garbs may warm the cold,
Peasants' words may calm a fear;
Better far than hoarding gold
Is the drying of a tear;
Make your mark.
Life is fleeting as a shade;
Make your mark;
Marks of some kind must be made;
Make your mark;
Make it while the arm is strong,
In the golden hour of youth;
Never, never, make it wrong;
Make it with the stamp of truth;
Make your mark.

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
Contributed by: Sheila Kumar

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

To his Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell
Contributed by: Gayatri Yamijala

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

She walks in Beauty by Lord Byron
Contributed by: Arthi Anand

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Who Killed Imagination? by Preeti Shenoy
Contributed by: Preeti Shenoy

I drew what my mind could see
An orange worm and a purple tree
A blue rose without any thorns
A dancing pig with crimson horns.

My teacher asked me where I had seen
What I had drawn, as trees are green.
A dancing pig with horns that are red?
She pursed her lips .She shook her head.

I looked at my picture again and again
I wanted to add tears but I added rain
What I wished was that my teacher could see
What I had seen and just let it be.

Imagination and creativity were killed that day
“Trees are green, Roses are red” I was made to say.
Though at that time, I did not know
Looking back now, it is clear as snow.

So I ask you today, to think a hundred times,
To watch what you say and to be gentle and kind
To admire-- even if you don’t understand,
Look again--You may be opening a mind.

from Much Ado About Nothing -- Shakespeare
Contributed by: Shinie Antony

Speak low if you speak love.

This is just to say by William Carlos Williams
Contributed by: Madhavi Mahadevan

This is just to say
I have eaten
the plums

that were in
the ice box

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Round About
Contributed by: Punitha Kamath Pai

There was a time when I was alive
When my smile reached my eyes
Though alone I had many accompanying
Finding pleasure in every little thing
Entering new worlds in every book
Finding new meanings wherever I looked
Dancing to myself in the moonlit corridor
Crooning, under lightening, to the beats of thunder
When living life interested me
And happiness was my employee;

But somewhere down I was lonely
Wishing I could find some company
Wanting to see what a crowd was like
Someone to share, someone alike
And, as I grew….
My wish came true….

People around welcomed me
Into a world of fantasy
I was so happy and so happy to please
Thinking it could only get better than this
I tried living the way I was told to
Doing what I had to; not what I wanted to
I tried imbibing the good and ignoring the bad
In the midst of which I lost all that I had
Life was suddenly synonymous with monotony
As I learnt to smile, converse and live phony
Afraid to open my eyes I adopted denial
Fearful of having to walk back that lengthy mile
But a little voice inside refused to quieten
And slowly led me to realization
I seemed to have lost that little girl in me
Who never needed anything to be happy!

It was then, I acknowledged, that living each moment
Was something that surpassed all achievements!
Just accepting this brought her alive
She promised, she would guide me back, to my hive!!

By Jay Mehta (Age 9)

Animals give us food,
Animals give us wool.
Animals carry our goods,
Animals are cool.
Animals like donkey don't have brains,
...

but we make them carry our loads and they never complain.
Every animal is of some use
like the earthworm makes the soil airy and loose
and camel gives us milk.
Eggs are made from duck, hen and goose.

Columbus by Ogden Nash
Submitted by : Priya Nayak

Once upon a time there was an Italian,
And some people thought he was a rapscallion,
But he wasn't offended,
...
Because other people thought he was splendid,
And he said the world was round,
And everybody made an uncomplimentary sound,
But he went and tried to borrow some money from Ferdinand
But Ferdinand said America was a bird in the bush and he'd rather have a berdinand,
But Columbus' brain was fertile, it wasn't arid,
And he remembered that Ferdinand was married,
And he thought, there is no wife like a misunderstood one,
Because if her husband thinks something is a terrible idea she is bound to think it a good one,
So he perfumed his handkerchief with bay rum and citronella,
And he went to see Isabella,
And he looked wonderful but he had never felt sillier,
And she said, I can't place the face but the aroma is familiar,
And Columbus didn't say a word,
All he said was, I am Columbus, the fifteenth-century Admiral Byrd,
And, just as he thought, her disposition was very malleable,
And she said, Here are my jewels, and she wasn't penurious like Cornelia the mother of the Gracchi, she wasn't referring to her children, no, she was referring to her jewels, which were very very valuable,
So Columbus said, Somebody show me the sunset and somebody did and he set sail for it,
And he discovered America and they put him in jail for it,
And the fetters gave him welts,
And they named America after somebody else,
So the sad fate of Columbus ought to be pointed out to every child and every voter,
Because it has a very important moral, which is, Don't be a discoverer, be a promoter.

Poem By Shraddha Khanapur
Class : 5

My Dog's Invisible Tricks
By: Shraddha Khanapur

My dog knows invisible tricks
He builds houses with invisible bricks
He chases invisible cats
And also gets me invisible hats

He barks in front of the main door
He barks at invisible Mr. Guru
I know he is the best in Bangalore
And of-course its true

He plays invisible Frisbee
He plays with invisible me
I don't think I am invisible
It makes me miserable