‘Untagged’ in GloMag Sept 2016


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http://joom.ag/FwMQ/p176

UNTAGGED

I do not remember
the things you said to me
about me, for me
I keep no tabs, no written words
no saved files, no cut-copy-paste replicates
nothing to prove their existence
and ruthlessly level any secret hollows
where they might creep in unnoticed
and with passion, couple

Still they survive
curling up into tender silences
when we meet
stretching out the little time between us
into valleys
uncontainable
®Reena Prasad

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Tags


This post is for The BeZine’s online,virtual 100,000 Poets for Change event.
The 100TPC themes are peace, sustainability, and social justice.

Tags

Why should it matter
if I am a common cur
uncollared, untagged
tail free to wag?
Does it lessen me in any way
to be unaffiliated to another?
Does it make you see red
and chafe at the chains around your neck,
or arms or ankles?

for even the ones that tinkle
ultimately lock you in
So you try to have me mapped

Spread-eagled I wait while
my eyes, sound, shape, colour, dress
and words are pinned
to a name
a place
a tongue
a profession
a family
a community
an ideology
a crime
a sex
an adjective or several
till you run out of tags
And I am cut into perfect squares and
stowed safely away
into the boxes in your brain

A lone tusker
isn’t conducive to trust
He comes bearing roguish tags
being the freest of us all
©Reena Prasad

Frozen Bits


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Past the awkwardness

of walking with newly protruding contours
of being teased for staring a minute too long
of talking with cracked voices and buck teeth
of fingers pointing out our differences
of answering hormone-dialled phone calls
of overpowering our own mental boobs
of not knowing the art of holding hands
of looking nothing like movie people
of breaking family curfews
of pushing propriety off ledges
of dreaming in tangled limbs
of personalising movies clips while learning history
of hiding the chameleons in our ears and cheeks
of arranging accidental touch fests
of embarrassing spurts of honest pubic hair
of fleeing amoebic tendencies
of feigning surprise at being found in the same room
of saying drenched goodbyes while holding two umbrellas
of meeting again in a world grown too small
of letting go because we were still too raw to hold

we meet again

having shed every kind of skin
having spent all our shored-up credits
having produced the same results
experimenting in separate labs

I love it that we are still
awkward
despite all the learning
just frozen bits of time

© Reena Prasad ,Sept 1 ,2016