Friday, May 30, 2014

Not Silence but Verse

These poems were part of a call for submissions by Prakriti Foundation in early 2013, a collection titled "Not Silence but Verse". Some Tanka and some Haiku. But all born out of an everyday anger.

Breaking glass cuts through
skin, teeth, hair, mind, to settle
deep, in memory.

Fingers filter sleep
letting it escape for good
like the child’s blanket
that was slid off silently
to reveal my growing pain.


I could give a damn
about outraged modesty
when it is my self
the totality of me
into which rage has been poured.


The sound stuffs itself
out of hearing range;
one law, that’s all it would take
to quiet the fear
and turn the panic to peace.


His gaze unzips me
from bus-stop to work and back
wreaking possession.

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