Posts Tagged ‘poems’

1

image: via pinterest

my demons take to the pages
voices: loud, strong, screeching,
pleading, brandishing
whips, swords. cuffs too.
bright flashing eyes
melting soft, languid, safe
even – a seducer’s language

lulling me to sleep, gently,
oh, so gently, unwrapping
a nightmare whose nooks
and crannies i know well:
comforting like a blanket
filled with my body’s warmth
my skin quivering under
the weight of dreams.

demons metamorphose
into father, mother, sister,
lover, familiar.

cobras slither through graves
peacocks dance atop graves
planes taxi between graves.

graves. of demons past are they?
will they resurrect?
will they rest-in-peace ever after?

futile hope, for aren’t these
thoughts too demons
dancing?

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

Advertisements
kites_cubbon park_anu

kites in cubbon park © Anuradha Prasad 2018

you showed me the kookaburra by the sea.

sitting on our balcony, you said.

where i live there are no kookaburras.

only crows and the squawking and chirping
chorus of anonymous birds whom
i wouldn’t recognize if i were to meet them.

they who rouse me from sleep,
make my cat prick her ears up,
warn of predators and swallowing eclipses

they with the sweetly choreographed
notes of existence, singing shy,
hidden behind a camouflage of leaves.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

anu hampi sunset

hampi © Anuradha Prasad 2018

Under my night skin, what lies awake?

If I were to shed it like the snake that
lets go so easily its skin,
the peacocks that drop their feathers,
the butterfly that loses its very self

What would be left?

A blank slate.

Must I start again, then?

Must I gather more nights,
allow stars, cosmic dust, the moon
to seep into my skin, my bones,
my heart, my soul. Once again,
to sing a new song of the same night?

Or should I gather days of scorching sun,
cerulean skies, fluffy clouds dissipating,
to create a new song, so unfamiliar in its
shades, its colors, its shapes, its voice,
so warm, so very day?

But me.

I am the night.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

1

image: via pinterest

The cat prowled the stars: sniffing and scratching,
marking her territory, that shape-shifting being.

Nur stepped into the stars which she dreamed
in the darkness beneath her lowered eyelids.
Here, crimson and midnight stars exploded.
She hopped from one star to the other –
looking for nothing
finding everything
taking nothing.

The cat approached. The universe spun, shot
stars. A somersaulting debris of dead dreams.
Decay shimmered.

The cat sniffed, rubbed her head against Nur’s
limb. A purr rose against her fur. Her round eyes
elongated, blinked. Love, you are so feline.

Nur opened her eyes to disappearing stars
marching in a line of untruths.
The cat remained, chin propped on her leg,
watching her stretch –
gathered midnight, scattering.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

 

pondi afb_anu

alliance francaise de pondicherry © Anuradha Prasad 2018

She knows little of him but
the ancient blue of his being.

A pulsing sea around him
she didn’t turn to look to know.

It was not love she fell into
Perhaps, the intrigue of it.

He now has a girlfriend.
(Does she know too?)
Where he lives, the ocean
waves are embroidered in
the living blue of light.

Of that love – no, intrigue –
she is left only with the azure
blue prose of her mind.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

1

image: via pinterest

Childhood is a place
that exists in the folds
of the dank underbelly
of memory, my child-
hood in any case.

The descent is reluctant.
Clouds hang over the fierce
sun obstructing its gold,
diluting it into a watered
down and hazy sepia.

The ascent is treacherous,
a slippery slope, path to
escape, away from the moldy
and damp memory of what
needs to be escaped,
what needs to be let go of,
what needs to be…
its clutch is heavy and cold.

Blink, blink.

I arrive at life bordering
summer and monsoon.
Clouds drift and dissipate
in breezy rain, a rumble
in their belly. The heart is
an unseen autumn leaf,
five-fingered and rusty red
with a broad stroke of ocher
and a wink of gold in its vein.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

bayofbengal_anu

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

Coal blocks hunkering
together thundering
soot black, molten orange
a dandelion dance
a long sigh of gray ash.

Breathe me as i breathe
you in entangled dreams
a quick wispy mermaid’s
tail flitting through abyss,
curious, seeking, luring
hunter, i am siren.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

1

image via pinterest

My descriptors a parenthesis
of synonyms, a hill range
of weird and odd to strange,
a graph of outrage.

What if I were to tell you
there’s nothing strange?

I am just a girl
looking for love dashing
to the singsong shores
of strangeness, hoping
the next crash will bring
with it love, a sediment
at least cutting its ridges
on skin keeping me
lit and dancing.

A tango perhaps
for the flamenco that I am
is so strong, so woman.

Partner me, love.
Dance me. Kiss me. Fuck me.
Slashed strawberries
did you know
spill scarlet?

Reacquaint me
with the breath of us.

slow rising falling falling

Falling into us.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

blore palace_anu

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

My land is barren, a reverberation of dunes.
Endless, expansive. Mirages my false hope.
The sea has receded. Its dance silenced.
It will return. Now, there is only the desert
without interruption. Thirst consumes me.
Patience, there are forests to come.

By the edge of the dune, on the horizon,
Amazonians tower. Birds of paradise cut
through its lush green canopy. A feather
sprinkled with the neon of green, the blush
of pink, drifts kisses my sand-dusted feet.

The horizon holds the promise of sea,
the dolphins, my eternal companions,
distant now, I hear their whoops of joy.
The last of them turns, his long snout opens
in a grin. His eyes hold the promise of a
million stars. Wait! He too disappears.

The sun relents, the moon surfaces.
A cold dry breeze rustles up a soft
howl of sand. No horizon, no promise.
Only the slivered stretch of a silver night.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

 

1

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

a teardrop of yellow,
shivering heart of blue
tiptoe upon a crumbling
black tip stretching out,
a serpentine coil of wick
languid in an amber pool
drowning drinking
holding in the length
of its breath
the nearness of death.

a sharp relief
the iron of blood
the burn of metal.

a last aria,
of fiber and fire.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018