Some Questions

What frightens you, when you lie awake at night unable to sleep watching the shadows as they creep closer to your bed?   What keeps you awake when worried thoughts curl and weave their way through your mind ruffling feathers and flying blind?   What stops you from falling back to peaceful sleep when the…

Unashamed.

I was ashamed. When they plucked at my hair and told me To sit on their lap I knew Something was not right. I was shamed. Was I too pretty, Was I too bright? I always thought “average”. Was the word That fit me right. But I was ashamed And I ran away. I did…

Time passing by…

Time rushes by, drags us in its flow as the days carry us surely to the shore. Laughter I had thought I’d never remember serves as driftwood to help me stay afloat. Maybe I think I think of you less but something in me still knows you have become an indelible part of me now, more than ever before.   Tiny feet I…

Faces

Who is it I see looking at me From that empty canvas? Is it that teen, staring vacant Her face marked and scarred From the acid of depraved lust? Or is the child raped and cast aside Her little pleas for help, a prayer On every mother’s lips? Can it be the woman sitting alone…

Mumbai, Dusk.

Red crabs scuttling Upon the stones To the salt sea spray Of the rauccous waves Children selling happiness In plastic windmills Perched atop soapy water Blowing bubbles that melt Small faces wreathed in smiles The lovers exchanging notes Joggers on the run Old couples saunter hand in hand My hands clasp unclasp Holding on to…

View from my window.

The Arabian Sea Rages White foam Frothing at the mouth. The horizon crumples Merges Blurred greys Gathering storm clouds. A solitary boat Crosses Hushed whites In slow refrain. The bird’s heavy wet wings Splashes Slate tears Beating at the rain. I watch, quiet and still Striking Asphalt days Off my painted shroud.

To Isha

Words are superfluous They roll off my tongue Like the sweat on a labourer’s back Toiling in the midday sun. Over and over words failed me When I first held you on my breast Unimagined pain, unbridled joy As you wailed your first little breath. Words were never adequate Watching you evolve From tiny steps…

From the bedside of a dying man.

Ask me what the finger wrote and I would stop, startled into visions of pages of white which I pencilled with numbers in blue tracing streets in blackened rivers on an old map gathering dust the paper yellowed by time, corners thumbed into shreds turning as brittle as the parchment skin of your hands that…

A poem by Lily Myers

To a Girl Who Doesn’t Yet Know “First you are untouched. I won’t say pure, which brings to mind white dresses and eyes that linger on the fabric like oil stains. But untouched; in a world of your own making, dancing around a rainbow scarf (the inexplicable object of your adoration) on the carpet of…

Z: ZaniLa Rhyme

The ZaniLa Rhyme, a form created by Laura Lamarca consists 4 lines per stanza. The rhyme scheme is ABCB and a syllable count of 9/7/9/9 per stanza. Line 3 contains an internal rhyme which is repeated in every odd numbered stanza. Even numbered stanzas contain the same line but it is swapped. The ZaniLa rhyme…

Phone Call

i dial your number deep in the darkness, a phone rings i see you reach for the receiver i hear the smile in your voice my lips quaver as i share my day my eyes mist as you tell me it’s not the end of the world and everything will be okay.   i dial…

Y: Yueh Fu

During the Han Dynasty (206 b.c.e – 220 a.d.) in China, popular songs were returned to prominence by the Music Bureau (yueh fu), a government bureau charged with the collection of folk songs, ballads and ceremonial music. These songs, marked by a spontaneous lyricism and a greater formal freedom, in turn exercised considerable influence on…