Discint: ungirded. Days forever etched The smell of sun-drenched skin The angles of your body Discint pools of claret Of which I drank too deep.
Tag: poetry
C: Croodle #AtoZChallenge
Croodle: to cower or crouch down; to draw oneself together, as for warmth; to cling close together, or nestle close to a person; snuggle In my cosmos you were the sun the stars, the light, the dark I clung to you till your harsh words shattered my universe Only I know how your whirling disguise pierced my…
B: Bilboes #AtoZChallenge
bilboes: an iron bar with sliding shackles, formerly used for confining a prisoner’s ankles. To the keep tonight i creep with keys to bilboes where i keep you hid dragging on your chain untamed in confinement tonight you feed on me.
A: aprique #AtoZChallenge
Aprique: sunny. Dawn gives way to aprique skies the games of the night are over for this day i slip off my mask and concentrate on being.
April A2Z Challenge: Theme Reveal 2017
You know, last year at the Austin International Poetry Festival I met some wonderful and talented people. I got lucky and they added me to a secret group where we discuss our work, bandy around with words and generally have an interesting time. Apart from the few people I have actually had the pleasure to…
Just because I am quiet.
My father was forged with fire, if he saw injustice he fought it through he walked on burning coals and argued for causes by the time it was passed to me the fire had quietened. I do not rage against dark nights my nature is more amenable, even selfish I like to stay out of…
Welcome 2017!
Sometimes I think I will surely throw myself off these walls that blind my soul. Sometimes I search for that lone song that adorns my house and makes it home. Sometimes I walk by the salt sea spray and wonder at footprints long gone away. But most times, I’m only me trying to prove…
A Sunday evening walk in the city
The sidewalks are taken by hawkers brewing pakoras and tea the smell of smoke cigarettes, kerosene, open fires, the smog of tiredness like a dirty chadar on the hands of the beggar lady forever turned upwards. Petrol fumes… of course how could I miss that? “take shallow breaths,” I tell myself, as a horn blares in…
Minto Park at dawn (from BVC)
If I look hard enough I see you striding along the path your denim shorts and white shirt striking among a sea of walkers. As your pace quickens, I fall behind till you come back around. I toy with a stone watch the crows flapping about. Early birds and all that jazz, isn’t that what you told…
The moon knows
the moon hides not the ravenous drooling of the malevolent dark the moon shies not from the claws at her face that found their mark the moon only waits waxing and waning naked and stark watching lest our souls are consumed by night’s hard casque for the moon knows only the moon knows that the…
The five senses
Winter came early this year. Across the city comes the smell of smoke and naphthalene as boys light fires and sweaters shake themselves out of trunks. The moon swims among the clouds as I walk the empty streets, the pavement dwellers are gone, they huddle behind doors deep inside the narrow streets where moonlight never…
ipsita banerjee 