Someone was talking about older relatives, Nonagenarians. I smiled, it’s your ninetieth birthday Today. The earth still smells as sweet and cradles Those plants you loved so well. When it rains The pond overflows as we splash among the edges Any excuse to jump right in. I still get lost. Meaninglessly in time playing games when …
Tag: poetry
Eight.
In my mind I am an octopus, the colours of my body Changing as I sleep; the yellows of contentment, The greys of the bleak worries, dyed in bleach. The deep blue shades of peaceful slumber, The frowning blacks as I refrain from speech. I do not speak to the dead bodies anymore I do…
Birdsong
The koel does not know this is a High Court meant only for serious matters, the Benches are for arguments, law and procedure heinous crimes discussed in hushed monotones one does not smile here. The koel sings out, indifferent and clear from its perch up high, no one stops or cares to listen; a voice…
Walk with me…
I have carried you for thirty years in every step, every mis-step I have taken, in delicious, imprudent ways. You were there when my daughters were born, you hid in a corner to hide your tears when I left home that last time. You knew, didn’t you? You knew that my life would move so…
blending in
I never smiled much blending into furniture, invisible girl hovering, in a party neither the life nor the soul; My words often fail to translate across the cacophony, specially for people that are meant to matter the people I think I care for. When trying to explain my thoughts, I’m greeted with blank stares nothingness cursing…
Building Bridges. (For Helga)
Death, when it finally came, had a lover’s touch, stealing into the night by the glow of candles. I wander in and out the guest-room bleakly staring at me waiting for its occupant to return. This is the everyday as we know it: Spring is here and soon the summer heat will pour through windows. …
Christmas 2021
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…
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…
Folded.
I folded away my sorrows in that patchwork blanket my mother made, now worn and frayed, which you tell me has seen better days. I folded away the creases of left over swatches of cloth used to make dresses when we were young. That pale pink one with the blue flowers? That used to be…
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…
ipsita banerjee 