Concealing storms underneath the feet, slippery with mustard seeds, walking on Edges crease, burning holes with use. There is a pontla* throbbing between the palms That can be carried everywhere, that burden of dreams that seep into A womb that speaks quietly to the feet,…
Tag: poetry prompt response
The Dots-Hour 23-firefly image poetry prompt
I leave a trail of dots in the bathroom as i look for a sanitary napkin in the shelf. Later that day, my son asks me soothingly what colour is the blood of ants. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know if squeezed out of them, …
Tears-Hour 22- text poetry prompt response
As i sweep the rooms , water splashes around, leaving a trail. I follow it around, a dog at its tail. There are no fine bone china to be broken by bumping on to a table, i curse my good luck as i mop away…
Ode to my hometown- Hour 21- text poetry pro
I never wandered enough through you, mostly keeping away from dryly lit lanes even under the hot summer sun, except A couple of times when i wanted to ruin my name in your honour, in your lanes I cajoled myself to collect faded paper tickets…
Housewife-Hour 18- image poetry prompt response
I fold the bed sheets, thrice. Lining them against the front of the bed, i look at the corners of the bedspread. I tuck them neatly in. I need three more hours to dust every nook and corner and plunge the dirt out Of the…
The dark walls-hour 17- response to image poetry prompt
In the culpable darkness of the shadows, there is a thin stream of light, bordering the darkness, shining mutedly- patient, and cynical of the possibility of dawn or rainbows Homely little pockets of grief simmer at the edges, waiting to be cultivated by greedy words….
The ear of the needle- hour 11 poem – text poetry prompt response
an eye in one language is an ear in another Skyscrapers seen through binoculars transform into the cloud of sounds of people working, of machines clicking The storefront no longer a waiting space in rainy days, instead waves of footsteps drown the entrance Big black…
An Ode to New York
Ah, New York! I know that bridge. I know that rock where he first kissed me. Not really… I made that up. But, I know that bridge. And, I know that rock. I know that beautiful bustling place where the muses live. I know the…