The Unravelling

"(There are) many stories which are not on paper, they are written in the bodies and minds of women."

By Amrita Pritam

Unweave these threads across my face

They are bondages that muffles my voice

My word has weight, my name has grace

What you see with nary a shadow or trace 

Of question, interest or life, is a mirage

Unweave these threads across my face

You'll hear my sad songs welling from vase

Broken a long time ago, a bleak montage

My word has weight, my name has grace

I recall them, underneath this shame of lace 

Over my thin shoulders cowed low

Unweave these threads across my face

That you will see me truly, in a place

Worthy & joyful.  I'll let the words steep, stir-

My word has weight, my name has grace

Out of my belly & bosom, into your palms

To hold my face, bare, sun-warmed  

Unweave these threads across my face

My words have weight, my name has grace

Source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics:  Women are people: invoking Amrita Pritam with guest host, Punam Sharma.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Snapshots of late May (early summer)

 

morning brings promises of peonies- 

sky mirrors an invitation-

tarry with the chores

and fold away the to-do-lists

i pause at half-planting the store-

bought vegetables in container pots-

i listen to birdsongs

& marvel the bees in the garden

the forget-me-nots dally

with blue iris & blossoming rose buds- 

the summer air is delicious

as freshly baked sourdough bread-

in a minute, wind blows white seed-

heads of a dying 

dandelion, puffy wispy clouds

beyond my grasp-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Join us for OpenLinkNight when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

Watchers, A Murder of Crows

in the dusty streets

no one minds you

strutting with snarl

with mean spitted eyes

with greedy shoulders

with oversized ego 

but we watch you

every day 

perched from our steel power lines

high above, joustling at a slightest breeze

we watch your goings in & out

in this city marked with hot brown & red roofs

the sun does not touch us

though the night feeds us with weeds

the sky does not hide our hunger

we are on guard, black & bleak

bitching with clumps

of violent energy, waiting in wings  

we wait for your road-kill rage

of one dead squirrel

or your junk food garbage

just

toss out your coke can & burnt 

last fries

we will swoop down

waves of hysteria in doom

see, there's one big crow 

strutting with snarl

with mean spitted eyes

with greedy shoulders

with oversized ego 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - A Corvid Poetry, hosted by Ingrid. Thanks for your visits and comments.

spring morning appointment

 

let's meet under the maple tree

the sky is periwinkle blue

the garden is rain-sprinkled, new,

greening & lush, i will bring tea

& you will bring your silence, soft

as dawn, nesting of spry pines, washed

warm amber, soothing our knees

will we mellow & flow into  

radiant spring morning?  i hope so 

there are birdsongs & rowdy bees

& wild dandelions to blow

& red daisies to string & stow

& blooming pink lilacs to see

& wind to chase.  this is no ploy

our pockets will be full of joy!

let's meet under the maple tree

greening & lush, i will bring tea

warm amber, soothing our knees

there are birdsongs & rowdy bees

& blooming pink lilacs to see

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Constanza Form,  hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.  Thanks for the visit and comments.

because I can

i bloom as lilac

in mid-may, magenta-pink

lush & heady as honey

dew drops from mid-

night rain

lingers on clumps of pastel stems- 

i twine this bouquet

of pear & apple fruit flowers,

violet iris blooms-

all gifts from late spring & sunshine

on my hair

as seasons change

so do i 

an iteration, not perfect as star-

fish nor crazy as bouncing cart-

wheels, but moving forward

yellowing as wild dandelions-

greening as soft tendrils of vegetables-

because i can - 

dance <between words> under the moon-

light

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics on Compound Words, hosted by Lillian.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thank you for your comments.

Ode to a breakfast (with mangoes)

 

they dressed you in cream

heavy fluffed in butter cake

drizzled in chocolate syrup

but i love you best

freshly plucked

from tree

my hands scooping your flowering-

green-eyed by rain

skin yellowed as papaya

with plump flesh

sliced flat across the seed-

a blend of tangy sweet as jasmine & citrus

halved, quartered & diced

you bring the sun's warm

belly within you

here's my young legs racing towards

the smell of unsweetened chocolate brew,

the steam of rolled sticky rice

mellowed in coconut milk

with a dash of salt

wrapped 

in slender palm leaves,

with ripe mangoes

my mornings are gifts from tropical land

source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Bon Appetit Poetry with guest Misky.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.