Even after releasing a novel, poetry collections, and plays, American writer E.E. Cummings’s proposed collection 70 Poems was rejected by 14 publishers. With a loan from his mother, he finally managed to publish the book in 1935, but with two noteworthy revisions. First, he changed its title to ‘No Thanks’, a reference to the dismissal letters he’d received. And on its dedication page, Cummings printed a concrete poem—a poem written in the shape of a funereal urn, listing the names of every publisher who had rejected him.
By Abdullah Tahir
I guess it’s the season
When the leaves turn red
And the trees turn dead
And winds become cold
Winter has arrived
When the nights are long
And bonfire songs
Are all the rage
Warm tea in the morning
Kick-starts your day
Warm showers in the evening
Drive your worries away
When it’s nice and cold
Warm quilts feel like bliss
What a good feeling
Enjoying the warmth in winter
A good book by your side
Steam rising from the chai
Your feet tucked into razai
Encompass winter vibes
By Momina Hassan
Queries of youth must I raise
For the graveyard within my soul
Where my corpse was concealed years before
The long forgotten legend of woes
I can’t voice my feelings
But words will decide
Hark, my tale is an innocent plea
A whole new world I intend to perceive
Horizons await for me I believe
Let this belief conquer tonight
Shall these reverberates approach your heart
I promise, you’ll see beyond strife
By Zeba Aziz
The rain in the morning
With the thunderstorm
The restless morning
Seems aggressive
Pouring it out
With all its might.
The teary eyes
With their glory
Narrating to us
The untold story.
Tears are happy
On finding relief
For they aren’t falling
Out of grief.
The rain in the morning
Accompanied by peace
Defeating all the dark
With much ease.
Compiled by SK