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Arlo Disarray Jan 2016
bhumika fulwani WAS a member of hp who has accounts on other poetry sites, and likes to steal other people's work and show it as her own.

another member of hp who wanted to remain anonymous had pointed out to me that she was using one of my poems on another site.

i was able to prove that i had written mine first and the stolen poem has now been removed.

i would strongly suggest searching for her on other sites, maybe even here, and make sure she hasn't stolen anything from you.
She recently deleted her account here. But on power poetry dot org she has an account with stolen poetry from many of you. I've seen it.
trying to warn others. having your work plagiarized is not a good feeling. i hate to perpetuate the drama on this site, but this is important. i don't want other people experiencing what i just went through.
Àŧùl Jan 2016
To thank each one of you,
Today, I take the opportunity,
By taking names for your support.

For being the source,
First of all, I thank Life,
For the inspiration she was.

She guided me to Hello Poetry,
Introduced me to new friends,
Broke up ultimately however.

Then I thank Timothy Salter,
For his own and his family's,
Articulate poetry helped me.

Madam Hilda writes as amazing,
And as amazing is their daughter,
It is hard to tell if Marian wrote it.

It's helping me learn more,
Respecting it has taught me,
Had to be paid to earn more.

Not forgetting Gitacharya Vedala,
For he elaborates on every detail,
Thereby helping me experiment.

Same is for Pradip Chattopadhyay,
Hinting of Rabindranath Tagore,
He's the poet clad in sombrero.

Their pure physics at soul poetry,
Helped me learn experimenting,
With sheer hollow truthfulness

I then engage in remembering,
Elsa Angelica for inspiring me,
Her own poetry is developing.

She inspired me to improve,
My strengths & weaknesses,
She taught me being lucid.

Then of course I thank Sukeerti,
She taught me being beautiful,
Without being too explaining.

She encouraged my writing,
Always was their as a friend,
Giving me her positive inputs.

Madam Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Squires,
Aptly mature her poetry is always,
Very much to learn always exists.

Her persona is respectable,
Definitely motherly her aura,
Making her a poet so reputable.

Several other poets fascinate me,
Equally instead of less or more,
They all teach me the lessons.

Madam Sally A Bayan is there,
Her sweet mature bits of advice,
Best complemented by her poetry.

Shayana Shrikanthalingam,
Seeing all her polished poetry,
Not such a difficult name for me.

Ever inseparable they are,
Brandon & Earl Jane Nagley,
They are the immortal lovers.

And I recognize the beauty,
An Indian model here on H.P.,
Poetry surely as cute as herself.

She is the most elegant girl,
On Hello Poetry and in reality,
Bhumika Fulwani I refer to here.

Finally, I express my gratitude to her,
In my life she's the ultimate one,
Now I needn't anyone else.

She is my Pooja Shah,
She is exclusively mine,
She is here forever to stay.
I have a very poor memory.
I might have missed some names.
So please forgive me if I have forgotten you.

But I assure you that I have full respect for you.

My HP Poem #992
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl  Feb 2016
BhuJi
Àŧùl Feb 2016
Poetess Bhumika Fulwani is going to get married soon,
I'm so happy for her because she's not gonna swoon,
For she gets to marry her beau under the stars & the moon,
I bless her to always be with her beau Jitin Waghwani she's granted a boon.
Both their parents have agreed for the union.

My HP Poem #1008
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jan 2016
I checked powerpoetry. Someone by the name of Bhumika Fulwani has posted some poems from Hello Poetry. I don't mind my poems being plagiarized.

At least they are unintentionally proving that I am a good poet and my poems are a class apart.

I don't think that Bhumika would herself do that. It's some imposter for sure. Someone meaning to defame her.

There's nothing to be insecure about. Just take pride that your best poems are being plagiarized. And please don't come to conclusions about Bhumika. Because it must be some imposter.
Relax. Trust me. Not a poem.

— The End —