Shivapriya Ganapathy
The ComingYou come
you always come when I shampoo my head waters streaming down the drain… You come you take me unarmed when I sit on the garden wall gazing, gaping at colluding squirrels on coconut trees. You come trying to catch those bushy tails and prance right under my eyes Sly fox! Coy lover, muse, you come, you always do. Ah! you know when I am unarmed. Hidden behind those lilac curtains, the space your living a mirage, you come. If only windows had tongues! Your evasive elusive tiptoes feed my mind, my eyes, and I gaze more and more and more wide and you still come you always come as you do on rainy nights those pearl drops clinging sliding down electric wires you gurgle at them cooing, counting, you come in drops-tasting. You come.
|
Trail the mindTrail the mind as it goes dry,
a trickle and nothing more so soon, soon swoons Time a beggar and I the tricked walk parched brown lands counting cracks Of lost steps and wishful thinking. An urge and a rightful anger. TouchTouch
and bloody thy hands, or go non-perceived the words, me, unspoken, only ripped off by force or silence. Or sometimes love. It is pain enough to utter-- to deliberate and yet pace the breathed, nurtured, tasted and gulped words. HypnotizedThe hypnotizing torch of
the pale night sky heals me with her scars and washes my sins in white… Bleeds through my window Her graceful intrusion as I lay naked knowing Sinful clouds shroud even Her grace! |
Erasure Poem: Page of The Great Gatsby
outdoors. the
Star s
s
h i n e
i
am
Conscious of
my
twilight
Star s
s
h i n e
i
am
Conscious of
my
twilight