The following poem by Laudeep Singh from Gurugram was selected as a commendable mention in Wingword Poetry Prize 2020
The poetry speaks itself about the poet
and each word states clearly
with what purpose and intent
it has been written by the so-called ‘poet’.
I don’t like poets
who cackle and grin all the time
as there is no cloaked wisdom in that,
irrespective of what their dreary optimism dictates them.
I don’t like poets
who are egocentric;
the ones who write to advertise and sell,
the ones who write to fill their coffers with money,
and the ones who write for notoriety and respect.
I don’t like poets
who read in large gatherings;
the ones who make a spectacle of their poetry,
the ones who always only read out their representative poems,
and the ones who recite less and spit more
to generate a wider response among the audience.
I don’t like poets
who don’t drink and smoke;
the ones who are afraid to die,
the ones who want to live a long successful life,
and the ones who themselves call themselves ‘poets’.
I like poets
who cry all the time,
who howl their heart out
wherever they go,
who embrace the glumness of life,
and who denounce phoney sanguinity.
I like poets
who are altruistic in their nature,
who write for themselves,
and who write for the contentment
of their own heart, mind and soul.
I like poets
who don’t read their own verse
but are always appreciative
of the poetry of other individuals
and if the need be -
those who read only in small gatherings,
who read out diverse chunks of poetry,
who recite more than the audience can chew,
and who feel pleased
if no one understands and reacts to their poetry.
I like poets
who indulge in all sorts of madness;
whether it is the use of some substance
or other means to nourish their creativity,
who don’t wish for a long joyful life,
who themselves never call themselves ‘poets’,
who are not terrified of death,
who consider death as their darling,
and who wait for their union with death
till they breathe their last.