Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Poetry

Poems by John Hennessy

AFTER ALEXANDRIA What an agony not to wake up next to you. Not to have fallen asleep with your head on my chest. I made the bed quickly, as you did every day, sheets that still smell of your hair and skin. Your pillows, one that you took with you, take with you everywhere, sandalwood...
My Guest There is nothing more important than you, my guest I will delay my sickness until you leave And I will cover my sadness with a big smile I will give my last bread to you and my hungry kids Don’t worry— I will fill my stomach with water Come on in… My house is full...

Poems by Sumana Roy

Balasan I’ve met the river before, but this is a new setting— like meeting a parent in their office. Bala—sand, san—stone: a river baptised for spitting its monsoonal gifts, like calling a girl Khushi, to bait happiness. The mountains that fight the grease of dust when we look at it from Matigara, they are here now, my...
They Won’t Forget to Pray (verses in response to “So Long Marianne”) In the night, you asked for silence to speak to angels for Marianne, for Marianne. You opened your lips and dry as they were still breathed the confession of stillness. Darkness approached as you addressed love in its trembling thoughts. I can’t hear your voice. It is quiet and...
SCAR The love byte is a frozen ripple seeking the other shore just as the curve seeks the circle, the curly hair seeks the halo encircling the head. May be because raw effort is prettier than the outcome, sun fondles the dark underbelly of the forest, floods it with light only for darkness to regrow like waiting. Humans remain banks with the turbulence...

Poems by Ranu Uniyal

GRANDFATHER You remember more of what is no more. Past steps into your bedroom and your grandson becomes your newly born. You love to address him as Baba – this is how you called your first born. The present blurred and faceless has no challenges for you. Your face perks up and breaks into...

Poems by Linda Ashok

MOLD When you left and I left When we both left our glasses to the loneliness that'll babysit our leaving the place that has seen us naked in each one of our eyes There were islands; green irises & black pupils they floated the way we buoyed in that moment of intimacy. INCENSE RIBS I am thinking of you. Don't move. Let the cars run over. Let people walk through. Let rain...
Where Technocracy Ends The other day, since I couldn’t recall, I googled “What was I just thinking about?” and the computer would not give me the correct information to my inquiry. I asked it this question a million times over and every time it gave me the wrong answer. It felt good knowing there were still some...

Poems by Shernaz Wadia

RENDEZVOUS poems no longer emerge out of some verdant soil like lilies reflexively spreading their pink cheer they don’t happen as they did twisting out of a gnawing gut... glow worms on the screen shedding light in dark corners words tapping themselves out of their own accord have lost their easy fluidity stanched like blood from a wound they want me to...

Poems by Steve Denehan

Sandalwood Some foundation, concealer a little rouge a subtle lipstick her reflection disappoints lines, hard earned, unwanted her reflection smiles it helps She dusts and tidies arranges rearranges old photographs of ghosts She lights a candle sandalwood she vacuums and sweeps she polishes and primps her home herself just in case Two Scientists I should be in work instead, I sit in a Dublin café tightly clutching a cup of tea as if it might...

Poems by Tissy Taylor

SHATTER Glass wall inside of me Looking to where I want to be How this widowed heart hides In plain sight, wishing to be seen False light is blinding me Until I can no longer breathe Quiet madness beguiles This raging fire, consuming Masked her wall of pretend Fettered anguish lingers within Imprisoned by the tides In murky depths a life...

Poems by Kalyani Bindu

TO SEE To see as I see you, through beetle eyes— mosaic percussion of hundred incarnations, to see, as I see you through strange beetle eyes— like strange art on cryptic flowers, strange streaks at strange places. TO THINK Like the one who sits cowered in the haunt of the anticipated halt, mind riveting like a forced swing, head synchronized with the ejaculating bus, the light of creatures and things, passing in and out as it...