The last few poems leapt from my arms they have minds of their own, they want to undo all that was undone in the year gone by, they want to skip over bodies that floated through my life. I built a dam to silence them but they return in gurgles of laughter, ridiculing my efforts…
Category: poetry
A little ramble
I did not think of you even once today as I roamed the trail, meandering down the valley, pausing to smile at an old woman gathering wood her face as gnarled as the sticks she carried upon her back. The tea pickers smiled as I passed marching by; too late in the year for plucking…
After those sharp edged words.
After those sharp edged words have been filedand kept away for another dayi turn to home, the only place i can bemyself, naked, shameless and alone. from these four walls dripping showers water washing away wounds and tearsi slip in though a side entrance lest i disturbanything else that may be home. The walls are…
Miss you, wish you would visit. (A poem inspired by poet Gabrielle Calvocoressi)
I do not care if you arrive in just your skeleton, but wait, we burnt that, come as a wisp of smoke, then Would love to take a stroll with you. Miss you. Would love to make you kosha mangsho and bhaat the way you loved it on Sunday afternoons. Love to feed you. Chatter over hot spicy…
Monsoon
If I was a season, I would be monsoon, I would pour upon you in waves, flooding every cornice, flickering big fat raindrops All through the night. You would wake in the morning to water-logged streets paper boats, dirty slippers, ilish and khichuri for lunch. Yes, if I was a season, I would be monsoon…
Just the moon
04:00 Hours IST. 26.06.2021. “Just the moon” you say, “no aesthetics even. Just showing off the zoom on your camera.” Ah, but it was at four in the morning…When skies were silent and still The dawn was just a brooding sighAnd no photograph will ever show The sweet smell of the flowers,The freshness of the…
When I think of you…
When I think of you I cannot be sadI think of the crack of dawnI think of birds flying in pairsAnd every lost soul finding a home. When I think of you I cannot be sadI think of enormous skiesI think butterflies flitting in the gardenAnd every lost soul breathing a sigh. When I think…
One day….
One day I will throw my arms and hug again We will meet in cafes and chatter And moan about work pressures And chuckle at trivial things. We will dance like no one’s watching, Go on trips, laugh with wild abandon And the only masks will be the faces We wish to wear that day. For…
Peace at last.
It poured that evening after that crematorium The man there collecting the dead like piles of leaves Leaves that have fallen from trees bursting with summer While the garden lies untended, with no one to stop And admire the flowers that were your joy and pride. The skies darkened to black and rain lashed the…
Mass cremation
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…
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…
ipsita banerjee 