My two girls

No. 5 – My two girls By Nandhini G. Natarajan   I expected my girls to be loving sisters, when I am gone. Now, one will have to be a mother, to the other one. One is a mother of three beautiful children. One will…

Hidden Things

Twice, while peeing in the woods, I spotted a geocache. In one box, I found a pair of haircutting scissors. It was up near a lookout tower that I’d hiked hours to. That hike about killed me. I had to rest all the next day…

Heat

Hotness Scorching hotness A spark coming to life To consume and ravage and spurn Tongues of fiery glee Shooting blood and crimson Glowing orange and yellow Burning, burning, burning   Sweltering and sweaty Sticky and slapping Skin against skin Rubbing, massaging and squeezing Itching and…

To Catch a Bird

To catch a bird To hold a dream To fly so high To be the dream To climb the mountain To see the valley To hold the mist To hug the dawn

Recipe for Peace

what a surprise! A golden capsule appears in my yard, we curiously opened it, we found a recipe, not any recipe, a unique one: Recipe for Peace Ingredients 1 pin of justice ¼ spoon of love ¼ spoon of compassion ¼ spoon of respect ¼…

Hour 5: Time Capsule

Lascaux’s lost cows tick Backward across time-baked walls, Shoving, As I stand Awed beside my ancestors’ Scrawls, A spear into my fist.

Hour Five

Digging Up Ghosts When I found the time capsule, I was surprised, to say the least. I opened it up, knowing that you were the only one who could have left it there. This house sure holds a lot of your secrets, even from beyond…

Hour Three – A Place of Pain

A Place of Pain   From where does your poetry flow? Is it from the crematoria that sucked up Countless corpses of your type Gulped by yesterday’s pandemic?   Or from the Mediterranean Drinking the blood of youngsters Fleeing failure’s web?   Or the mass…

Scent

The scent of a woman The scent of fresh flowers The scent of fresh dew The scent of brown hay The scent of upturned soil The scent of a woman

Denarius

Under the damp earth a single coin lay Buried for centuries and lost to time Gazes to sunlight without sheen Browns and dull greens tarnish the once beautiful silver Etchings, eaten away by ground water, are misshapen and indecipherable Only a half-visible face with a…