Tag Archives: Love

Protected: aranya #3: drought

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Posted in aranya, beauty, Could be verse, epiphany, forest, nature, Prosepoetry, vignettes | Tagged , , , ,

eyes

Unfurl me then In the arithmetic of your desire| With eyes That could bleed subterranean rivers dry Eyes that narrate Fables of a breathless haste, a fumbling tizzy of hands| I have found a spot In the bustling side roads … Continue reading

Posted in #poemaday, ananth, Could be verse, Lou, poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Meenakshi

Fish eyes. like a leaf. stillgreen. lithe. imploring. a misty morning caught in a gaze. watching. the secret in their eyes. I’m in the great hall. It’s the sorting . A feather falls from the ceiling and gets submerged in … Continue reading

Posted in beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, I Quote, It is written, Lou, nasha, night, nostalgia, picture abhi baaki hain mere dost, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

the hook beside the fan

the hook beside the fan runs incarnadine like your eyes turning red with the green smoke of memories masquerading as dance in our paranoid conversations in our soot black minds our black tongues magnified on walls with kites that hold … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, It is written, kaha gaye woh din, Lou, Music, nasha, night, nostalgia, picture abhi baaki hain mere dost, poetry, the apocalyptic real, vignettes | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lines written on the death of my grandmother

I A sack of flesh spilling over a diminutive frame seeking herself out from a thousand faces of insanity stammering through the insidious sentences woven by time’s scribe raving eyes lost in the syntax of pain unrolling its slow tortuous … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, Could be verse, poetry, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

A love learned

When I saw you first, I felt like Keats who felt like Cortez* I tossed and turned in the clutches of this wild surmise I ran amok in the forest of this dream Your hands were poetry carved word by … Continue reading

Posted in beauty, Could be verse, epiphany, Lou, nasha, nature, poetry, the beauty myth | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

“The postmodern reply to the modern consists of recognizing that the past, since it cannot really be destroyed, because its destruction leads to silence, must be revisited: but with irony, not innocently. I think of the postmodern attitude as that … Continue reading

Posted in I Quote, Lou | Tagged , , | Leave a comment