Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

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Ephemeral hieroglyphs,
infinite destinies,
them,
stars.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

 

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The long shadows
of my mind’s night
my true

north.

I brew the
alchemy of wisdom
healed by my

heart.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

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The fever of sleep
in my skin

tugs me in gently.
Falling in,

the dark sea dances
me a fata morgana

of wrath and peace
of peace and wrath.

I have strayed
away and into

the duality of being;
all is dark, all is dance.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

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I

The bonfire –
a witch’s hat of
twigs, branches –
crackles eating spitting
exhaling
smoke-choked
once upon a times.

II

The eye of the sun
looks over
the ash-grey threshold.

In the wake
of surging orange,
a spreading sky stain
of cerulean,

a birthing of new
ever afters.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

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The night you saw
me
by the moon-silvered
stream,

was I the
dream,
or were you
moving
through me,

deep
under my
closed
eyelids making
night.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

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A firefly sailed
out of the black
heart of a green tree,
a spark adrift.

Night made beautiful.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

 

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stoic night of blazing venus
silent canvas to

montage of sounds
bracketed by walls.

rough-hewn barks
approaching heightening disappearing

susurrus leaves,
winter’s children now dead

eye flutter, jagged breath
deep. even. slow.

toward oblivion i drift.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

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the moon is full
behind tangled tree limbs,

they do little to muffle
her loud beauty: she glows

the color of butter, pierced with
the sharp sheen of metal.

time’s lazy sky meander
softens her gaze, thaws her cool

she sighs in soft puffs
of silver breath, birthing

a surging living
celebration of her divinity.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

reflect

Posted: January 28, 2017 in Uncategorized, writings
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Skin, a ripped shield,
groggy blood, entrails
blink weary eyes
tint of mild surprise
still warm, still beating
living ink begins
tentative explorations
faltering fluent
curled elongated
tied untied…

our bloodied history
(never to)
RIP

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017

now

Posted: January 25, 2017 in Uncategorized, writings
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1

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a confluence of time-streams:
the past transforms
in this moment
a future is born.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2017