I want to steal some lives From the pyres around me Steal some smiles from those Who died breathlessly Reaching out and finding No hands pressed in return And I want to hear their stories Yes, each and every one. And scream their joys From the mountains So the world will not forget The weight…
Author: ipsyb
mother, dreamer, lawyer, poet, blogger, writer....jack of many trades....inter alia.
Erasing Bodies (in a crisis)
After the dead have been put away, Their bodies lie as shells on a beach, The limbs that danced with life Shut down forever, waiting to be picked up, Cremated, donated, buried or thrown For vultures to feast. I call Upon the bodies I own, my past loves My mistakes, even that drunken phone In…
Lost souls
I don’t talk about God with my mother I don’t tell her a lot of things like how I struggle to sleep, or laugh and go through another day. I tell no one that I am sad How I let my soul wander and it goes away. I don’t talk about how I don’t care…
Crossing over
My night, fractured into a million pieces Skitters away from me, a pile of mirrors Glittering in the dawn. There’s that dark Of the uncertainty, the fears that strike Without time or reason, keeping me awake Most of the rhyme. Then there’s the laughter Of my daughters, iridescent and bright Of friends whose words delight…
Lockdown 5:13 am.
I woke from dreaming because of the dogs I was ordering Chinese for grandparents Who have been dead for almost 30 years, My husband sat at a table with important men Talking of revitalizing the system. I look back on the year almost gone And the years that actually have been lived You may tell…
Inside the tunnel
There is only darkness here And the low stench of mildew Fragmented by your illusions. The last glimmer of hope You thought you saw As you rounded the corner Was only a reflection That skittered off your eye… There is no illumination here As you paw your way holding Hands and slippery walls to guide…
The last mango of the Salt Lake house
was starting to rot. I cut carefully around the edges, juices dripping down fingers Into mouths that eagerly waited to bite into the sweet yellow flesh. No one lives in that house since you left. It lies abandoned, a shadow of what had been, a house full of memories the walls a reminder of all that…
We are safe #CycloneAmphan
The rain lashed the walls of my face Each drop piercing the skin as I chased The old unused tent that threatened to fly Off the terrace. Someone gave that tent To my daughters for them to play, And there it stayed for years thereafter, out grown, But not remembered to be thrown. The clouds…
The things I have/13.05.2020
Daybreak walks in the city with me dragging my feet the driving lesson that became an accident Chicklets to combat the salt of the sea. Sun-kissed days in the summer sun lazy somersaults in the pool steaks and fries and chips with sauce rolls shared on half-day afternoons. That movie I begged you to take…
To the crow
I used to hate crows, scavengers of the earth squawking, snatching, swamping the skies when one died, shot by that stray bullet frightening us into the house. But then you said that crows were good that when they eat the food offered to the dead it is as though the dead have returned. Since then…
Ghosts
There are no ghosts, you said, there are no ghosts; only the memories and those we have left behind. Or have been left by by those who moved to another place from where there is no return. Yet, when the stars flicker glittering through my tears and the skies are silent at that moment when…
ipsita banerjee 