Thanks to Countercurrents for this space!
Because they couldn’t kill me before I was born they try to throw me off every cliff, into flames and push me into deranged arms Blame me for straying too near the edge Praise me to high heavens when I am defeated/broken/ dead Decorate my rotting corpse with candlelight vigils Call me their favourite warrior names for losing the fight[Read More…]
Source: Supreme Violations | Countercurrents
Thank You Countercurrents.org and Binu Mathew!
You wave. The street splits into two The wrong turn is you An obsessed nostril sniffs out intentions Kisses are always political I want to stop and breathe out the years without you. The wind fleeing on a bird wing leaves me a feather The left is a body with an unwashed feel to it; It reeks of desire, of[Read More…]
Source: Left Right Left | Countercurrents
Thank you Fasihi Magazine for publishing 5 of my poems!
Fasihi in their own words is a” non-racial, post-gender offering whose focus is free expression within the context of shared humanity”. Fasihi means Literature in Swahili.
One ink, One World
Source: 5 Poems by Reena Prasad – www.fasihimagazine.com
Thank you Strider Marcus Jones. Stoked to be here with Linda Imbler, whom I admire a lot.
Lothlorien Poetry Journal Edited by Strider Marcus Jones Poet – Publishes poetry, flash fiction online and in print periodically. https://lothlorienp
Source: Lothlorien Poetry Journal: Three Poems by Reena R/Prasad
FemAsia, Asian women’s journal carries my poem “The Snake..” in their Jan 2021 issue. Thank you Editor-in-chief Shameela Yoosuf Ali! A wonderful issue and I am of course delighted to be in it! Do read.
It is strange how free one is when totally bound Feet and fingers working on Unthinking unfeeling unconnected beings oblivious to what the rest is doing Time defeated, curls into a corner no longer willing to wait the night out without sleep Morning comes-a mechanical being with a huge flashlight Muttering about loose ends and […]
Source: The Snake, The Red herring And A Ramble – FemAsia Magazine
Thanks to Candice Louisa, Megha Sood, Christine E Ray, Kindra M Austin and Indie Blu(e) team for this mighty book. Two of my poems are included in here- ” Other Tongue” and “Changing The Hole Narrative” . Received my contributor PDF copy and am thrilled at the power in those pages! Will share my poems soon.
Do buy this mighty book! Links below!
Source: Blog – Indie Blu(e) Publishing
Pleased to find my poem “Guest Appearance” included in the Trouvaille Review on Jan 22nd 2021. Thank you Editors!
A ringtone makes its way through the open window/ Music is forbidden here/ Death is the
Source: Guest Appearance by Reena R — Trouvaille Review
A very happy 2021 to all my friends. This post is all about the kindness inherent in my writer friends who have taken great pains to keep me and my poetry alive and hold the fort for me when I was unable to be there to do it myself. I thank each one of them for being there uncompromisingly and wish them every happiness in this new year. To each one of you( you know who you are) who read, liked, shared, published, visited my poems and enquired/wished/blessed/prayed for me and my family, I have nothing to give in return except undying gratitude and love and hopefully more poems.
Source: The World Literature Blog: FIVE POEMS BY REENA R
It is been all blue since I left the green
and the green has now left me
to look for fresher breaths
Autumn’s masterpiece, I belong
to the artists who flock around
hoeing, ploughing and raking
through the seasons
all because of a mad need to sow
The suns I have swallowed
nest in me
heirloom rings of my age
No longer do I need to be leafed
to feel beautiful
A naked tree is truth
The naked truth is me
A song I hold dear rings clear
A song without fear
A song with all our fears
A song stolen from earth
and snatched from the heavens
A song inside a bit of fluff
A song arresting the floating fluff above
that comes visiting with the breeze
A lonely song that brings succor
to the poet below wandering
with ink in her veins
A poem that becomes a tree
A tree that becomes a bridge
A bridge that the song travels on
The song that is you and me
When night spreads herself out
like a sheer drop from the balcony,
floats weightlessly in the breeze
and then resurfaces to show off
her brilliant gold-lined eyes,
I cannot sleep
for she tells me that to be seen amidst
all that darkness
I must wear the stars
even if they are all suns
which scorch and burn
I stay up to show her the scars,
the singed skin
the ferocious imprints of hugging a wild sun once lost to me
the molten lava
that streams from my eyes
and she calls me beautiful