KRBanerjee - Hello Poetry

she wanted to be everything and nothing roll universe in her palm like a marble, stars flame on her tongue she spoke of a world greater than this one when she finally felt moon rock cold hard basalt heavy in her hands she missed malleable soil stretched into beds of clovers and daffodils, craved the warmth of a star.

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Dec 21, 2020

Dec 21, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC

she wanted to be everything

she wanted to be everything and nothing roll universe in her palm like a marble, stars flame on her tongue she spoke of a world greater than this one when she finally felt moon rock cold hard basalt heavy in her hands she missed malleable soil stretched into beds of clovers and daffodils, craved the warmth of a star.

12

you couldn't eat right for days tongue swollen, scabbed red like Christmas lilies. we drank whiskey, slowly slowly there's poison in love, somewhere sneaking behind concern disguised it rouses old wounds dreams left unfulfilled, when finally you could feast again, we found our plates empty.

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Oct 27, 2020

Oct 27, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC

poison

you couldn't eat right for days tongue swollen, scabbed red like Christmas lilies. we drank whiskey, slowly slowly there's poison in love, somewhere sneaking behind concern disguised it rouses old wounds dreams left unfulfilled, when finally you could feast again, we found our plates empty.

11

The List: carrot, eggplant, arbi, capsicum, green peas - press one for more options - apples, new list apps applesauce and ketchup not Heinz but the cheaper one, a new pressure cooker because the whistle doesn’t work And with each tweak it tizzles out more, theek nahi hai, yaar no matter how many times you take it in, it’s just jugaad again, a permanent temporary fix, so we need a new one, stainless steel and big, bara to cook all of your dreams. grand total rages against your wallet, paper thin but it’s digital, anyway, your eyes glaze, blaze as the bag boy, too tired, too hassled, too underpaid squishes the eggs beneath the cooker the shells quake in your eardrums the smell of something rotten beneath all those discounts.

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Sep 18, 2020

Sep 18, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC

it’s what you don’t see that matters

The List: carrot, eggplant, arbi, capsicum, green peas - press one for more options - apples, new list apps applesauce and ketchup not Heinz but the cheaper one, a new pressure cooker because the whistle doesn’t work And with each tweak it tizzles out more, theek nahi hai, yaar no matter how many times you take it in, it’s just jugaad again, a permanent temporary fix, so we need a new one, stainless steel and big, bara to cook all of your dreams. grand total rages against your wallet, paper thin but it’s digital, anyway, your eyes glaze, blaze as the bag boy, too tired, too hassled, too underpaid squishes the eggs beneath the cooker the shells quake in your eardrums the smell of something rotten beneath all those discounts.

26

snow never comes early down south if luck kisses our brow maybe an inch near the Epiphany those days we huddle near the windows wrapped in wool and hot cocoa baklava bleeding honey, our eyes nailed to the fences watching cardinals red wings flapping like poinsettia petals a warm breath on a chilled grey sky.

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Sep 17, 2020

Sep 17, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC

baklava

snow never comes early down south if luck kisses our brow maybe an inch near the Epiphany those days we huddle near the windows wrapped in wool and hot cocoa baklava bleeding honey, our eyes nailed to the fences watching cardinals red wings flapping like poinsettia petals a warm breath on a chilled grey sky.

9

when the monsoon came she cursed. She had been asking those folks in the co-op twiddling their thumbs and licking the edges of their rupee notes from the maintenance bills, she’d ask them to repair the terrace aching and wheezing with water from the early drizzles but the treasurer preferred a Kashmir scarf and the chairman a new scooter, secretary painted his living room and added twenty rupees for a samosa for the loyal watchman and so she slept beneath flickering lights hoping the wires didn’t blaze up, consuming her whole.

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Sep 5, 2020

Sep 5, 2020 at 11:53 AM UTC

the problem with housing societies

when the monsoon came she cursed. She had been asking those folks in the co-op twiddling their thumbs and licking the edges of their rupee notes from the maintenance bills, she’d ask them to repair the terrace aching and wheezing with water from the early drizzles but the treasurer preferred a Kashmir scarf and the chairman a new scooter, secretary painted his living room and added twenty rupees for a samosa for the loyal watchman and so she slept beneath flickering lights hoping the wires didn’t blaze up, consuming her whole.

17

forgotten, egg yolk splits, sautées golden sun between butter and pepper white halo hardens, boils bubbling a ***** browning while the one yellow eye runs with the clock hands carefully I peel the rubbery flesh away lay it on saucer, slather bread with butter already wondering what wry churns the day brings.

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Sep 1, 2020

Sep 1, 2020 at 7:57 AM UTC

absentminded mornings

forgotten, egg yolk splits, sautées golden sun between butter and pepper white halo hardens, boils bubbling a ***** browning while the one yellow eye runs with the clock hands carefully I peel the rubbery flesh away lay it on saucer, slather bread with butter already wondering what wry churns the day brings.

9

I hung my apron to dry let the wind carry it, cradling cloth with branch claws and dancing legs all the way to hell and back, embroidering glory in each stitched parsley leaf, I unthreaded each with a brittle needle used each thin thread to create my own tapestry.

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Aug 24, 2020

Aug 24, 2020 at 9:54 AM UTC

tapestry

I hung my apron to dry let the wind carry it, cradling cloth with branch claws and dancing legs all the way to hell and back, embroidering glory in each stitched parsley leaf, I unthreaded each with a brittle needle used each thin thread to create my own tapestry.

9

wind blistered water stars collapse into redwood love the outer ring

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Aug 22, 2020

Aug 22, 2020 at 9:13 AM UTC

family tree

wind blistered water stars collapse into redwood love the outer ring

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Hi everyone! One of the reasons I've been quiet the last two weeks or so is because I've been setting up my first poetry e-book. This week I have it on sale on Kindle for $0.99. You can get it here if you are interested: getbook.at/ShyAnger Otherwise, next time I post, I'll have another poem. :-)

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Aug 21, 2020

Aug 21, 2020 at 8:38 AM UTC

Announcement

Hi everyone! One of the reasons I've been quiet the last two weeks or so is because I've been setting up my first poetry e-book. This week I have it on sale on Kindle for $0.99. You can get it here if you are interested: getbook.at/ShyAnger Otherwise, next time I post, I'll have another poem. :-)

4

plastic: straight, good posture white and abrasive as baking soda thrifty, ideal of motherhood hosting new years parties and other get-togethers for the kids while sipping, socially, of course, a margarita, she buys her children, ruddy-nosed devils, gifts while their friends stand with empty hands, letting those other kids, kids with empty pockets, sit to the side, and know their place. steel: another mother she drives thirty miles to pick up a daughter’s friend, male, lanky, and for cops the wrong color at midnight from a gas station in the wrong part of town which is really just code for poor and less white and she takes him home to sleep on the sofa gives him hot tea and in the morning pancakes with eggs she doesn’t ask about the bruises on his forearms or his heart she just feeds him and drives him to the library with a sandwich in old Tupperware he doesn’t need to return although he does with a thank-you note and gratitude in his heart, despite all the bitterness around him.

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Aug 20, 2020

Aug 20, 2020 at 9:17 AM UTC

a tale of two mothers

plastic: straight, good posture white and abrasive as baking soda thrifty, ideal of motherhood hosting new years parties and other get-togethers for the kids while sipping, socially, of course, a margarita, she buys her children, ruddy-nosed devils, gifts while their friends stand with empty hands, letting those other kids, kids with empty pockets, sit to the side, and know their place. steel: another mother she drives thirty miles to pick up a daughter’s friend, male, lanky, and for cops the wrong color at midnight from a gas station in the wrong part of town which is really just code for poor and less white and she takes him home to sleep on the sofa gives him hot tea and in the morning pancakes with eggs she doesn’t ask about the bruises on his forearms or his heart she just feeds him and drives him to the library with a sandwich in old Tupperware he doesn’t need to return although he does with a thank-you note and gratitude in his heart, despite all the bitterness around him.

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