Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 3, Number 1. May 2020. ISSN: 2581-7094
I Sit Facing Expanse of
Suburbs
jealous
patterns of story’s wrapped
in
odd droppings of pallette
walls
licking between of shifting stories
just
false feelings of separate cosmos
everything
waits for dusk a chance
to
merge there's mystery in black
how
it cups both water and stars
this
moment churns a hollow
sized
to fit you with lathered ease
unity
explored on imaginative maps
I think of this as familiarity drifting
in
air something known yet nameless
as
one addressed by anaphoras
this
is better metaphor for choice
of
only void a touch of unpoetic sadness
what
shapes my thoughts take
as I trowel songs to form an evening
beyond
ambit of sordid distance
melts
of my edges at bottom
of
your salt- crusted presence
redefinition
of loneliness undoing braids
of
quietude and you mailed
what's
the big deal to be far and away
Visceral Unity
My nephew running to 9 wrote
'unity'
on display of blank canvas
and
like unbridled horse ran out
jumped
off like light seeking
next
dark neighborhood
but
befitting the theme
I
unsmart to pick honeyed shades
from
my suddenly angered pallette
and
moaned to this war loss
like
the song I forgot to pick
from
the tiny ocean of your eyes
and
noticed unity spilled
on
bitter whitewashed walls
dappled
green,viscous red
sunshine-drunk
white, neutral pink
nomadic
blue, disappointed brown
waterlogged
grey, lichened golden
visceral unity …
Family
So this is my family
mother- democracy
father-judiciary
tumble down the
familyslip meet
siblings- unity,
development and I citizen
schemes for better
tomorrow is all
pronounced through face
of time as it rises
from river of busiest
history
as we ducked to metal
discs of hardships
like summer noon rays
oh! poor unity: fragile,
lags behind
like last train-box
forever stationed at end
bleeds monochrome tears
of memories
mother imagining old
times sobs
for what's lost yet
searches if something exists
on other sides inside
dark tunnels of loss
father like war lost
sergeant questions
his own judgements in
big, empty room
standing as an accused
humans notorious for
practicing selfishness
like ellipsis beginning
at closure of innocence
fattened with unapologetic
language
skirt ruin of humanity
slow-soundless
blue breath of river
between shallow
and perished these days
I shudder
if my family falls
apart would I be still
roofed or stand upon
blood-soaked soil
and whine at rubbles
warping dormant ode to peace.