Poetry

By Kaveri Talukder Breath in, breath out Breath in, breath out. But my ragged breathing  Doesn’t calm  Down.  Cold fingertips balance  Me between  The brick wall And  The metal bins.  A hundred  Thoughts run  Through my  Mind; Thunderstorms  About the  Unknown. Rusted metal  Fences  Broken & chipped. Distant voices,  Screaming and  Yelling.  Fists against the  Walls, Fences and  Faces. Shrouded by  The darkness  Of the night Where no stars  Or street lights  Reach. Hairs on m

By Kaveri Talukder Time goes on,  No matter what happens  The world will still keep spinning. So much has changed; So much lost And so much gained. I've faced my darkest fears And I am no longer scared. My story was never  Supposed to end up here  But here I am. Travelled to this new world  And learned how to navigate it. A closed book  And a walk-away. All my efforts All my woes, Left behind In the crystallised box. I never knew  That it was going to be  The last time.   ...

By Kaveri Talukder In our little store, My parents and my siblings, Lived and worked. But there must be more than Living and dying in this village. When the prince comes From another land, With symbols on His cloak I have never seen. He has what I crave,  The ability to go somewhere else; Be someone bigger. But his eyes never follow me, They follow her; After all a prince should marry a princess. Her beauty puts the stars to shame. How can someone as ordinary  As me steal her

By Kaveri Talukder "You look so pretty  With glassy eyes” And you would look prettier dead. "You look so pretty Standing here in front of me" And you would look prettier out of my sight. "You look so pretty..." "You look so pretty..." "You look so pretty..." Tear out your heart  And keep it as a souvenir  Your bottle of tears is displayed on my shelf  Screams melt And mould the cup  You're holdin;  The burns form the  Tea Can be soothed by  The most useless  "Sorry" All of yo

By Kaveri Talukder Thai milk tea Is sweet To drink but It has a slightly bitter Aftertaste. When I see You happy And safe, It warms my heart. The world can't be So bad if it makes you happy. You have found it, And for that I am so glad; Seeing you smile Makes my whole day, But... I wish I were  you. You deserve To have all the Blessings from Heaven. So, let me live Vicariously through you. Because sometimes Sweetness and bitterness Are made to be Together. By Kaveri Talukder

By Kaveri Talukder In this haunted  Haunted house  I think of what could  Have been... But I have a habit  of wanting things  I can't have. In this haunted  Haunted house  I think of who You could  Have been... A bad habit of mine,  Is to not want to  Share. In this haunted  Haunted house  I think of how Things could  Have been... If things  Were a bit different; Whether it be me, Or you, Or our timing. In this haunted  Haunted house  I think of what  Could have been... But I

By Kaveri Talukder The sky turns white  And then thunder strikes. My brother is scared,  But I'm quite fond  Of this weather. The sky turns white  And then thunder strikes. And now my sister Comes into my room as well. Guess, the weather  Woke her up too. The sky is  Painted a dark purple,  And the rain Is so loud through The open windows. So we sit on the bed,  And talk about the weather  Of all things. The sky turns white  And then thunder strikes. We should  Go back to bed

By Jivika Vikamshi Come here, my child. Come close. Sit. You’ve wandered enough. I’ve watched you: Run behind achievements, build careers to feel safe, collect degrees to feel worthy, buy houses to feel secure, chase relationships to feel loved, gather wealth to feel powerful, perform rituals hoping your wishes will be fulfilled, offer coconuts, light lamps, feed cows, give donations- thinking if you do all of this, perhaps I will notice you more. You took fasts for marriage.

By Jivika Vikamshi Hey, you remember that time  you were brushing your teeth, just staring at yourself in the mirror, and suddenly your chest got quiet? You weren’t thinking anything in particular. Just existing. But for a second- your breath shifted. You forgot what you were doing. And something inside you… stirred? Yeah. That. Or maybe you were walking home after a long day, headphones in, listening to a voice note you didn’t really want to hear- and suddenly you couldn’t h

By Jivika Vikamshi You’re sitting across from someone you prayed to forget. Not recently. Years ago. Another version of you was addicted to their attention. You burned that version. You smudged your skin clean. You wrote poems about release. You wore silence like a sari for months. But here you are. Smiling. They’re saying things you used to beg to hear. Back then, those words would have shattered you. Now they land like incense smoke- pleasant. Unnecessary. Familiar. You sti

By Jivika Vikamshi I have been waiting inside your bones. Not beside you. Not around you. Inside. You think you came here to find me. You came here to remember I have been the mouth behind your mouth. The scream behind your name. I am the taste in your throat when you forgot how to beg. Do not chant my name like I am a deity standing outside your skin. You are the temple I already cracked. You are the prayer I already swallowed. Look deeper. Look deeper still. Beneath your ri

By Jivika Vikamshi When the world is extinguished, an inner sky ignites. In that soundless night, an Om awakens, and at Ajna’s secret gate a third flame surges in silence. That flame is the gaze of Vahni, under which blossoms of longing burn to ash. Mirages of the mind evaporate in its heat. Masks of the self ignite and fall away as cinders. They call it annihilation. It calls it unveiling. When the ashes settle, a cool radiance lingers. From the brow’s altar, Amrita drips to

By Jivika Vikamshi She arrived barefoot- not with light, but with the scent of smouldered illusion trapped in her skin. Ash still clung to her tongue from the truths she fed to those who begged for silence. She did not knock. She did not ask. She crossed the threshold like vaitarani- the river between self and selflessness. She sat where others had swept shame beneath stitched smiles and honeyed scriptures. Around her, mirrors blistered. Names unstitched. Ego, once proud as I

By Himani Deepak Khude By Himani Deepak Khude

By Dave Hite Would you ever want to be ashes or stars? To shine bright like cleansed diamonds, or rust like burnt embers? Would you choose to be among bright litters across the sky? Or drift through dust and grime, trapped by the earth? Is there even much of a debate? Who doesn’t want to be akin to someone’s deepest dreams? Stars are unreachable; unattainable. They stand on the outskirts of our atmosphere, posing like judges of humanity. Their shine is a facade at midnight, s

By Dave Hite Each day brought waves of garish men, on their way to midsummer parties. I watch from the safety of the seedy bridge tower, intimidated by their pompous manners. Hiding from the civilized was a learnt practice; a cultivated gem from the hidden wildflowers. My cousins taught me the truths of the constellations, and for that I was satisfied. No strangers were needed. Despite being remote, in the foothills of the present, these men continued to appear. They tugged a

By Dave Hite I enjoy the sunsets almost as much as I enjoy the sunrise. Melting vermillion and streaking plum coat the night sky in magic. I think of my stint of childhood; the brevity of my time on the ground. I was cornered—stuck—listening to my one-track mind. Eat, it told me. Eat until you have to close your eyes. Strength is necessary if you want to touch the clouds. It worked, listening to the heavy growl of my stomach. I ate the green leaves of my birthplace and set of

By Ella Silverman Sickness stitched life  into suicide’s lining. This  mid-August night the  Amherst outside life smacks  the window and  tries pushing in. Fighting  enlightenment in  my bed at  3 am. Feel  the gun  pulse  in the  box spring. As  I push through  it to the climax of  something. Orgasm  or flatline, bear the child or  shoot, tie the  knot or walk  the plank, cut the  cord or tug the rope, or go trying. Is  it better to speak or to die? – but I find one  always

By Himani Deepak Khude राख से उठी हूँ मैं, अब आग बनूँगी, जो कल तक चुप थी, अब आज कहूँगी। मेरी चुप्पी को अब कमज़ोरी न समझना, मैं जन्म देती हूँ — मिट्टी नहीं, संस्कृति गढ़ती हूँ। घर की चौखट से संसद तक अब मेरी चाल है, मैं  आवाज हुँ,जो अब खामोश नहीं सदियों से बाँध रखा, पर अब ये बंधन टूटेंगे, पैरो मै बेड़ी थी जिम्मेदारी कि, वही कदम अब गरजेंगे। मेरे आँचल में दया है, पर आँखों में तूफ़ान, मैं सीता भी हूँ, मैं दुर्गा भी,मै सीमा नहीं विस्तार हुँ ना सिर्फ़ रसोई, ना सिर्फ़ आँसू की कहानी,

By Nana M Singehebhuye The deafening heart of silence inflicts its insanity and expresses her duality in the stillness of day. Silence screams in the void, capturing their souls, imprisoning their hearts, expressing emotional states of happy colours and rainy days. In silence they sit with their own thoughts. Their minds bloom like moonlit flowers, each petal unfolding secrets only the dark can hear. The air holds its breath, heavy with unspoken dreams, while time tiptoes sof