There is a sciatica running down a leg but I manage to live with it quite easily. I’m in Calcutta where I swore I never would liveand you’re in the other end of the country, so to speak You tell me you’re unpacking your life from boxes, I wish I could help somehow. In school we…
Category: poem
Going home.
After the last drop of chemo Has dripped through the IV The nurses flush the site Ice pack the swollen hand And remove all the evidence You look at me with those eyes. Silent, wide and expressive, “Can we go home now?” We cannot, the doctors Want you bound to this place To this bed…
Hands
After I fumble yet another conversation About the miseries of war That no one wants to be part of, I think of the world taking up arms, For whatever reason, Each and every one of them wrong. You wouldn’t have hesitated To shoot their chest-thumping down. But the world has changed, I’ve tried, Fear be…
33 years
Not all men are equal, some less than others. Some rant and rage, some pillage Spread aggression and hate Not caring of the spillage. Some are nice, some even mean well Some carry barbs in the words they say Yet some are benign, some upright And some are always on display. And then there’s you:…
never alone… how long is a piece of string?
if i said i do not care that you were a doctor, or a sweeper, would you forgive me? i imagine you stretched out and weeping over your broken body, watching, not able to look away from the man taking what was never his. if i tell you, you could have been a pauper or…
Erasing Bodies
Ars Poetica* (after Kenyatta Rogers) All poetry ought to be torn and thrown, unless someone picks up the pieces, pastes them together with tape as if it means something to them. Like toilet paper dissolving in the pot, the scribbles on the wall scrubbed out when you were three. Life is a waiting room, we…
Dachau Concentration Camp
We destroy, we maim, we claim and kill what we cannot hold on to. We inter the bones, burn the bodies of dissident thoughts, place our fears in isolated camps and call it freedom. There is no comfort to be found And hope is in retreat. All that is, is politics and war, it’s insidious…
Un-beaten
I have learned to live with Ghosts they often break bread with me, they taught me to run headlong into the Storm, stride out into the Darkness, for waiting for the Rain to stop never would help me… or anyone. I have had plenty lessons along the way on how to be Lightning, scorching the…
lets begin
“Time is not linear but a deck of cards that is continuously shuffled.” -Paul Tremblay (The Pallbearers Club). After those long nights have been stored for another day and relegated to the back of the closet, there’s nothing to fear, save that the moon is turning away and the night will be at its darkest….
ipsita banerjee 