From being hissed at too much, we have become venom gliding glibly over your bristles, our skin speaking a new language you cannot decipher without a forked tongue
Feeding you your poison, remaining untouched at the core Strengthened by the knowledge you lack Mimicking your insecurities but also mocking them while being subdued by the weight of your bones
The chains have shifted from soft bodies to minds mired in myths pampered by obedience and shrunk from disuse The knots are no longer where they were once put The fabric has changed and the woman in it has ridden off
Liberty now moves like a breast drummed upon by the rain and no longer wears heels, fishnet or your name What you still clutch at is clay of your making How little you read of what we write on our skins!
She waits impatiently for the deep pits can swallow no more He comes drawn by the lure of quick money. At sunset, the deal is struck. Three bars of Lux soap, two large bottles of kerosene and coconut oil, a floor cleaning lotion, jasmine-scented (he insists on it) and 4000 rupees change hands but no handshakes are expected or given. They vanish into opposite dusks.
She into the house to fasten every window and spray fragrant Oud. He to the shop to binge on stuff that will quell reason and preserve his sanity. The night soil stream gallops through sleeping backyards as a well-oiled drunk works diligently, scooping up and surrendering all his rights, laughing and retching in turn at court orders spraying kerosene over each load of shit he pulls up till the slabs are cemented back
“It’s always our pleasure to read all your poems in our Friday #KaafiyaMilaao (Hindi and English) Sessions. Happy to share a poem by Reena Prasad from the English session as a token of love. Keep loving us. Happy #KaafiyaMilaao”
How can my love hold him? He slips through my untuned strings
His song, a bubble at first turned into a serenading storm It caught sunbeams in its net, floated with fireflies at dusk and spun rosettes around my thoughts It latched on to the swing of the wind curved around rainy hills and then let itself go in a free fall slow over the sheer drop of the cliff humming with its ebbs of bliss prying open seashell lips sweeping the sand with its longing Weeping at the silver sliver’s haranguing
Etching its lyrics in the ether it soared, pirouetted and bowed out in silence
The August Issue of Visual Verse carries my poem ‘OUT OF THE BLUE’
OUT OF THE BLUE
The ocean lies on my bed breathing in conch-whispers I float up to give it space. It is dry and feverish tonight and curls around my ankles tugging me down Its amoebic tips reach my lips caressing them rudely, carelessly- its eyes somewhere else the inattentiveness insulting my softness
An yacht floats out from the depths People dance to music on the deck Their laughter floats into the deeps turning into another language of imagined gods These people left a world I knew but they still laugh Death is much maligned after all
A mast straightens A flag pours out from a toothpaste tube in stripes of red and white and I stand to attention listening to an anthem that plays till a clock stops and drags it backwards and I try to read that script too out of habit
Happy to be be among the 48 poets who wrote their hearts out for this compelling collection from Different Truths and The Significant League on FB.
‘Jasmine-Scented’ & ‘Other Tongue’ feature at the 4th and 5th slots.
Kashmir, Syria, Patriarchy, Inequity, LGBT rights, Human trafficking, Rohingyas and many other sensitive issues are brought out in these poems.
The anthology is edited by eminent poets, Dr. Koshy A. V.,Sana Rose, Niladri(Neel Kamal) and Urooj Murtaza. Thanks are due to Arindam Roy and Anumita Chatterjee Roy of Different Truths for this stupendous collection.
The Significant League (TSL) and Different Truths (DT) together offer an Anthology on World Humanitarian Day (WHD), the sixth tie-up between the two. Seventy four poems, by 48 poets, showcase the h…
GloMag August 2016 is here! Happy to to have a poem titled ‘Looking In‘ at page 91. Lots of good friends have sent in their work for this issue. The preface by Robert Klein Engler titled ‘After the end of poetry‘ is a must-read.
“If you say that word’beauty’ one more time, I’m gonna puke” 😆😷
Won’t say it but this one is a b- – – -y of an issue.
Source: GloMag August 2016