Supreme Violations | Countercurrents


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

Left Right Left | 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

Duane’s PoeTree: Reena Prasad writes


Always a great honour to be at the one and only Duane’s PoeTree. Do read the commentary by Duane Vorhees in the comments by clicking on the link. That is the most interesting part of it.
Source: Duane’s PoeTree: Reena Prasad writes

Order cannot laugh

 
They sat in neat lines
heads turned towards the left
sitting as they were put
All
except
one
that wriggled its bottom
twiddled its thumbs
rocked on its bum
and created a disarray
forcing the tidy ones
to rearrange themselves
around the mess
in a bid to hide
the chaos
and the sore thumb
laughed secretly
then out loud
and was still laughing
when they threw it out
and formed a new order.
©Reena Prasad

Jasmine-Scented


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Pazhakulam, Kerala                                                              pic :ReenaPrasad

Jasmine-Scented


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

A moonlight bath with the floor cleaner and a bar of soap
then dinner on a banana leaf left for him outside the locked up house
He opens the last two bottles of toddy dousing the stink of memories
taking home the scent of jasmine, two bars of Lux for his wife and 4000 rupees for his child
which the hospital takes from him once a clean day dawns.
©Reena Prasad

Published in the mini anthology on 19th August 2016
An Anthology of Poems Dedicated to World Humanitarian Day

GloMag July 2016


GloMag is the coming together of poets in their diverse manifestations, thoughts, and expressions – and the visual interpretation of these.

Source: GloMag July 2016


Glory Sasikala deserves all the credit for her painstaking compilation of yet another glowing issue of GloMag. She has been kind enough to include my poem’ Soul Thirst’ and even to find a complimenting image to go with it. Thank you Glory for your benevolence and love. The preface to this issue is by Lakshminarayan Nariangadu.

Screen Shot 2016-08-16 at 10.12.12 AM

Reena Prasad GloMag July 2016

Soul Thirst

Knitted word webs
Extensions of your deft fingers
but with roots in base desires

An ancient being sprouts feathers
Familiar shapes within the filigree
A remembered thirst lives
sunk deep into dried up streams
when possession was not a requisite
to love

My leaves droop on their own
It is afternoon
in the land of ardour
Keep stamping out red ants
from under your trees
but apathy of a soul is final

Let those perfect words
fly into space and
find cosmic slashes
deep enough to cement
but assuage my thirst first
Lend me a soul to drink deep from
©Reena Prasad

A Dear Friend /Purrspectives


 Today we sat in perfect peace,
I on my easy chair
He on the window sill
Looking out together into the wintery garden
over the pebbles, at the fallen leaves
the burst of marigold sunshine, the guava laden trees
He stares gravely as if contemplating, perfectly still.
I watch his handsome face, wondering what he sees

His eyes give nothing away,
He seems to be smelling the breeze
while watching a butterfly
floating over the lawns at ease
I turn my chair toward him, to secretly read his thoughts.
Cleverer , he turns away as if to foil my plot
Does he wonder about the sun as it plays hide and seek
or accepts it without doubt as part of nature’s decrees? 

Maybe he wonders if I am out of my mind
sitting indoors though the weather is fine.
He bears with my every flaw, ever benign.
never going far, though I am rude sometimes
Do I live with him or does he live with me
An austere face, that stately walk- no less than any prince
Dignified and calm, his feline charm,
always soothes my hurt

A twitch of his tail, his ears go up, he crouches down, alert! 

He sees a bird, I know
his inborn instincts keeping time
One of us is a poet-which one?
but together, our days do rhyme.

©Reena Prasad  22nd Nov 2o10
Published in ‘THE PURRFECT ANTHOLOGY ” By Lost Tower Publications On 14th Nov 2014 . LINK HERE

the family