broken world – monsoon clouds like Band-aid strips on an ebbing sky
Alternating between banal work and the feverish dystopia of my newsfeed, it does feel, sometimes, like the world is coming apart in an insane hurry, everywhere. In the middle of war and hate and climate change and the pandemic, if there is a safe place, it seems like it is getting smaller and smaller or fading away in the fog. Meanwhile, there’s poetry, rare but still able to say that, once, there was a time, somewhere, safe enough so a poet could, for a while, put pen to paper.
it says nothing, it says everything hold it up to the light again, some days, you’ll see a poem
An abating second wave (really?), an enraged monsoon (climate change?), a monday-friday grind that mocks attempts at writing, a shrinking world of poetry suddenly made beautiful by an unexpected poem that drops into my timeline – how’re things in your world? What have you been writing?
even in a parallel universe – is there this longing, this poem?
I’ve been an infrequent visitor to my blog. Sometimes I write and some of it finds its way to Instagram, the blog, however, is languishing… and nothing, it appears, can do away with Covid or create the mindspace for focused blogging, focused writing, focused anything. But, in the middle of pandemic listlessness, absent inspiration, disappeared muse and a time-devouring day job, I’m compiling a book. More on that, when the path stops being so utterly uphill. Hope to read all your posts this week and write more-post more-read more…think I miss this space… more than I realized. Stay safe all…the planet of the variants is not a friendly place.
In August 2017, I had six poems published onThe Cherita. I couldn’t share the poems immediately because of the rules of the journal and then the display format. Later, ‘The Cherita’ released several anthologies, collecting all the poems published by them. I recently managed to get myself the kindle version of one of the books titled ‘Where the river bends‘ and can finally, have all my poems up on my blog. Cherita is a form, as you might know, created by Ai Li who is the editor of the online journal and the curator of the anthologies. (If you’ve already seen a few of them on my Instagram page, well, this is the backstory)
(1) the horizon thickens
the sea separates from the curdled sky
we rise like wet birds from the water into emptiness, into nothing
(This Cherita also appears in my book ‘Water to Water‘) (2) origami bird
I fold and refold our love
hoping one day it will fly (3) the after-rain
a moon trembles in every puddle
sleep leaves the window and slips into my empty bed (4) a door slammed
a dog barked softly once, twice
she woke up when she heard the wind tiptoe into the garden (5) afternoon quiet
the cat sleeps in sunshine squares
the light and I argue about shadows and god (6) the sound of temple bells