Looking At Love – Visual Verse


Looking At Love is up at Visual Verse- one of my favorite sites! Read some more scintillating work by extremely erudite writers by clicking on the horse or the link below.

Source: Looking At Love – Visual Verse

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It is a Sunday


Screen Shot 2016-08-28 at 10.34.06 AM
Pic Credits : Dr Santosh Bakaya

 

 

It is a Sunday
There is grain on the street
Perhaps a pigeon will come

There are swings in the park
The school is closed
Perhaps a child will come to play

There are bougainvilleas in bloom
There is a breeze that hums
perhaps a butterfly may float here

Here is a street and a park
grain and flowers
swings and holidays
yet something is missing

The man who fed the pigeons
was shot here yesterday

Perhaps love will still come
one day

(C)Reena Prasad
Pic credit : Santosh Bakaya

Please visit
https://intothebardo.wordpress.com/2016/09/23/100tpc-2016/
for reading more participant posts for The BeZine’s online,
virtual 100,000 Poets for Change event.

NaPoWriMo 9 : Cul-de-sac


Cul-de-sac

 

How cruel I feel
when you let go of the rigid jawline
in the softness of sleep
Your cheek curving up in a dream
Your chin prickly
tattooing an imprint
on my arm
You forget that deplorable vow
of willful insouciance
and breathe your wants into my skin

Cruel because I am awake
able to decipher your body language-
hieroglyphics that conceal
dust devils of unspoken emotions
so formidable that it
latches on as blotches to my retina

and you sleep in a cul-de-sac of dreams
while I quietly transfer the ripples
your warmth evokes in me
dissolving the last resistance
of lazily erected billboards of protest
to the scattered vermillion
being sprinkled over the quiet blue sky
signaling the turn of our love-street
into yet another cup-de-sac day

where you will measure and weigh
every word and gesture
before you let me have a peep
but till then
let me gather you in and sleep
©Reena Prasad

Love Is


Love is
your fingers tangled in my hair
a shared smile that no one else sees
a baby cheek pressing against my own
two tiny feet resting in my lap
a possessive hand tugging at me in sleep
a bright crayon portrait of me
a steamy cup of coffee not made by me
a foot rub after a long day
a packet of punjabi samosas
just when I crave for one
and you say you haven’t seen
love?

©Reena Prasad

NaPoWriMo-7 Summer Rain


NaPoWriMo-7

Summer Rain

I would have loved for us to defy death
the way poems do
springing out from paper graves

Once they have burnt me to ash,
released this trapped bit of air
stowed you safe under a hefty stone
and left the world to us

unchaperoned
our wild selves free
to meet

let us

lie over your headstone
snow-fetti melting from your shoulders
and from my hair
-remanants of our clinging winter
the warm rain singing a frantic refrain
of our desperation, deprivation
and final damnation

Let us
begin another summer
bring on a pagan rain

But you never came
for on this driest patch of sand
my heart has been conjuring up gleaming shells
Their glitter unshed in my eyes while I wait
for the cease of the merciless roar
of an endless summer rain
©Reena Prasad