Poem Review: Apricity, Authenticity and Almighty
Chennai winters are shorter than in most parts of the world, typically lasting less than a week. However, this year, we have experienced what some call Harvest Rains in January. These rains are technically spillovers from the Northeast Monsoon, similar to Ponder 2024 is extending into January 2025.
I let go of my guilt, primarily due to extenuating circumstances at work. Nonetheless, as a dedicated individual, I aim to give Ponder 2024 the attention it deserves throughout January to ensure it reaches the finish line. Thus, we find ourselves at the third of four tributes.
The tagline “Be Fearlessly Authentic” graces her LinkedIn cover. She initially connected with me tentatively, but as I started reading and commenting on her poems, I realized that her work reflects her caption.
Her poems are authentic and heartfelt, always emanating a positive vibe and concluding with hope. Her choice of words and her experimentation with both rhyme and free verse are captivating. She serves as an excellent example of how contemporary poets can evolve and shine.
Since her debut in Ponder 2023, she has been a consistent presence in the themes I have selected, including the recent Haikus. Let us now traverse through the verses-scape of Shobhana Kumar.
She is prolific, and authentic and invokes the Almighty as her bulwark of hope. In this review, we shall examine two of her bouquets of poems that are quite recent.
a) Apricity: The poem reflects on embracing warmth amidst life’s chill, learning from the past, rejecting toxicity, and fostering self-respect while finding strength and hope in the journey.
b) Entwined In Verses: A heartfelt poem celebrating the union of two souls through the art of poetry. Their love and creativity intertwine, crafting life’s beauty in words.
Poem 1: ♡ Apricity ♡
A fleeting moment of apricity in the chill,
A ray of hope, there’s a way, to my will.
The meandering mind melted like snow,
Relieving the numbness of the toe.
It’s futile to let go of the past,
I just need to handle it with class.
Learn the lessons it taught,
Allow it to flash back and clear the knot.
Maybe it bounces, not to remind pain,
But to reflect on the strength, I did gain.
Make my responses soft and better,
Ignore the toxic and relations bitter.
Live respectfully with the ones who love,
Slavery and disrespect, never allowed.
Being taken for granted and taken advantage of,
A thing of the past, now written off.
The apricity in the snow, clad as His presence,
Encourages, cheers up, and stay away from nonsense.©️ Shobhana Kumar 🖊
Commentary on Poem 1:
Winters, while beautiful in their pristine white, can be challenging. The cold climes freeze body and mind, seeking a little warmth for solace. This applies to human situations as well. Life has its winters too can be desolating and depressing.
A fleeting moment of apricity in the chill,
A ray of hope, there’s a way, to my will.
The meandering mind melted like snow,
Relieving the numbness of the toe.
I stood in front of a pile of snow, whose white can be confusing. Plain white, dear friends, is not plain. Try sitting with a pen and a plain white paper — your mind wanders, and your finger turns numb. The white paper remains white. As a poet and writer, I relate to this view. The apricity is a streak of shine that induces warmth in a cold, dark place (the mind goes to the ‘Light’ poem by David Shapiro-Zysk.
It’s futile to let go of the past,
I just need to handle it with class.
Learn the lessons it taught,
Allow it to flash back and clear the knot.
Past stays with us like the shadows. They are part of the dust and sands that we tread upon. One must be mindful that they cannot change the past, yet look back with pride, for it’s been their journey, a path they have tread upon, with many lessons to learn.
“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”
― William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
The past finds you, but when you make peace and accept it, life is so different — the knots get untangled, and the flashbacks make sense.
Maybe it bounces, not to remind pain,
But to reflect on the strength, I did gain.
Make my responses soft and better,
Ignore the toxic and relations bitter.
I discovered that there is something in us called a sanity filter. We cannot move forward if we let the past get past this filter. This sanity filter removes the toxic and bitter relations. I have seen people disappear into my rear review mirror in silence. But remember not to stare at the rearview mirror too long, for our eyes should be looking forward, making our responses better. Just wash your past down with a sigh, and drive forward.
Live respectfully with the ones who love,
Slavery and disrespect, never allowed.
Being taken for granted and taken advantage of,
A thing of the past, now written off.
The apricity in the snow, clad as His presence,
Encourages, cheers up, and stay away from nonsense.
All the goodness comes out of this sanity filter. Only love, respect, and letting go, pass through the sieve. The toxicity, slavery, and disrespect become things of the past. The sanity filter is like the apricity in the snow. It brings warmth, hope, cheer, and clarity. This apricity filter is the Almighty’s gift to us. Now, go and live your life.
Poem 2: Entwined in Verses
In silhouette, pure silence weaves,
A shy heart finds endless flight,
With every word, the soul believes,
Verses painted in pure delight.The ink flows like sunset’s glow,
Every word, a brushstroke on the page,
Dancing rhymes, emotions throw,
A bond with the poet’s infamous stage.With every stanza, fervor sparks,
A strong voice, a tender song.
In every metaphor, a mark,
Feels entwined to where we belong.So here we stand, in His grace,
Two souls a-scribe, a perfect pair,
Literature is a sacred space,
Our love is poetry, life laid bare.©️ Shobhana Kumar ✒️
Commentary on Poem 2:
Love and poetry are intertwined. There are no verses bereft of love, and there is no love that can’t be painted with verses.
In silhouette, pure silence weaves,
A shy heart finds endless flight,
With every word, the soul believes,
Verses painted in pure delight.
There is something cozy about this stanza. The words are weaved in silence. The silhouette does not startle the poet but gives a subtle warmth that encourages the reticent protagonist to grow wings of her heartbeats and fly, while the words weave into beautiful verses, that paint a soulful picture.
What a beautiful place to originate — the peaceful serene places, high up, almost where the Almighty lives, a little bit of sunshine, melting the pure ice into pristine water, gurgling and flowing in lively streams, all under the azure sky; such a beautiful feeling that this stanza leaves behind.
The ink flows like sunset’s glow,
Every word, a brushstroke on the page,
Dancing rhymes, emotions throw,
A bond with the poet’s infamous stage.
This stanza is like walking into a creator’s studio. The poet’s infamous stage is her mind, that silent womb that throws up the gurgling fountain of verses, that flow in the ink, a dark fluid that glows like the sunset’s iridescent orange. Poetry is the culmination of many arts; painting — where each word becomes a brush stroke, dance — where rhymes gyrate to the music of poetic rhythm, drama — where emotions flow, ebb and fall, finally settling into a display of wordly oeuvre.
With every stanza, fervor sparks,
A strong voice, a tender song.
In every metaphor, a mark,
Feels entwined to where we belong.
The resulting oeuvre, wordly wizardry that is, breaks into different sparkles — a call out in a strong voice, or a soft tender song that appeals to the silent and peace-loving, or a rallying spark to high activity. The allegories, the similes, the metaphor — all add color to the creation that is called poetry.
So here we stand, in His grace,
Two souls a-scribe, a perfect pair,
Literature is a sacred space,
Our love is poetry, life laid bare.
So, we stand, the creator and the creation, the palette of arts that we can conceive, the oeuvre of mystical words, illuminated by the apricity of the Almighty, a pair of poets — almost like the two lines in a stanza, two toes in the dance, perfect pairing of souls, adorning the sacred space of words, that we call literature.
I can but remember my poetry collaborations with Priya, Shobhana and Chloe, that make such beautiful twin-artistry the perfect pieces ever created.
Authenticity and Almighty:
Being authentic is the simplest identity one can wear. But, we all know simplicity is the most difficult thing to achieve. Poetry, however flowery it is made to be, must reflect the authentic feeling of a human, the poet.
“If you don’t know who you truly are, you’ll never know what you really want.”
― Roy T. Bennett
The yearnings, the melancholy, the ecstasy, and the glory — all have to be truthful. Shobhana’s poetry, as I have seen, blossoms into a wonderful display of fearless authenticity.
The invocation of the Almighty, in true love, displays the purity of her words, reflecting the pristineness of her soul. We wish to see more of her poetry, explore different genres, and enrich us all in words and wisdom.
~Ashok Subramanian © 2025
