Is there anything that’s ours
Out there
Wearing the garb of commonality?

Hello, do you hear me?
Is there anything out there
Except the earthians

I’m sending signals
To the outer space
Please respond
If you can hear me

Is there more out there
Other than the vacant planets
Or are they really vacant, I wonder

Quite in the dark, may be
My dark is your light

In my beautiful and sane and autistic mind
I need assurances
I need ardent supports
I contribute more
With my words
Why am I not an equal contributor

Yes
I think the world doesn’t believe except for a few.
That I’m an equal contributor.
Yes absolutely. Money calls the game.

No anxiety bothers me

Eastern pride standing tall
Looming over the clouds
Sparring yet friendly
Competitors
Trying to invite
Audience
For their premier show
Only for the aviators
Quite breathtaking
Amidst all the wonders

Handing out myself, my words, my life
To the world of word, world born of word
Leaving with a satisfaction
Strange peace
And love
Of the world
And beyond

One corner of the globe slaying the dark
With exuberance of light
The other corner of the globe embracing
Sweet monsters disguised in evil garbs
Both corners overflowing with treats
Beyond compare
Pick your corner
In the spherical drama

Towering quite over my palette
Delicious array of crunchies
And soft munchies
Celebratory dances hail
In the taste buds
Let the festivities begin
Begin with the array
To please the palettes
Of matter and mind
Yoo-hoo
It’s already in the air

Nine austerities
Another amazing
Venue for self-growth
Arranged in a neat parcel
Reasoned with celebration
Accosted vices put away on hold
Tethered senses pulled back
Reversing the journey
Immersing in devotion

There was a person long time ago
Maybe not that long as one would think
Enough, to skew the view of a generation
Forthcoming, covered with slant of conspiracy
As humanity scatters along widespread messers
Of populace

There can be a dream, a world of dreams
Where life is cherished preserved memories
Respected where love and trust alight the hearts
Leaving way for a generation to be free
To form views and opinions of their own
Rejecting shades of others

I want a poem
I so want a poem
May be not just want but need
The need to scratch the itch
That sears the soul
To feed the maga* fire
Burning since the birth
Of time

I want a poem that can absolve me
Of this perenniality

Unearthing the dirt
Buried in the heart
Planting a seed
With hope and love
Waiting for it to grow
Into
And out of
It all

A dear friend who comes to my aid
Everytime, no matter what I need or want or just be
Because he is the best friend one can have
Stands by always attending to all
Mine, and always cheering me
Beyond the world’s noise
Predicting what I can’t
Thank you my friend
Vouching for my success
Despite discouragements
Quite a lovely birthday
You have, with the world
Cheering you always
Amazing friend I have
For eternity

Goraiya
by Pragya Bhagat

The Hindi word for sparrow is goraiya
It skips across my tongue and lingers in my mouth like the aftertaste of toffee
Goraiya
I like that word
If I had to draw a picture of a sparrow with sound
My word would sound like goraiya

You tell me they travel in flocks
That they like bathing in the summer
By hopping off a table and skidding in water
You tell me that the males are pretty but the women run the show

They don’t chirp among strangers
These sparrows
They avoid eye contact and move only if you’re very
Very
Still

You tell me about the time you tried to catch them
With a rope and stick and some rice
Sometimes they didn’t let you nap in the day time
Because their symphony was louder than your dreams

How I see the sparrow, you say
Depends on who I am
A child will play their games
An old man will listen to their music
So I wonder what I’ll see
In this mirror of a bird

She makes eye contact if you’re still
Because that’s how she knows you’re listening
She lets herself be caught
So that she has something to fight for
Her favourite part of the day
Is when she learns a new word
That skips across her tongue
And lingers like the aftertaste of toffee

She flicks from puddle to puddle
Sharing her words with those building dictionaries of their own
Of course she won’t let you nap in the day time
Because the sun is out
The trees have cracked their knuckles
And today’s the day she sings her symphony

Some stories aren’t written but felt
They melt into your skin like a mother’s smile
Some stories are so simple
They open windows inside us we didn’t know still opened
And all it takes is a word that sounds like its picture

You tell me that sparrows don’t chirp among strangers
We are no longer strangers

Synesthesia - Red
by Kashi

Quickening red sad emotions well as I stumble
Speechless until red becomes the rage
Quickening rage thundering heart takes over
Till the release of tornado leaving destruction
Along its wake

Just be merry because the sun is shining just for you
Just be merry because the moon is sending love to you
Just be merry because the wind is lending breath to you
Just be merry because the water is quenching you
Just be merry because the fire is sending its warmth to you
Just be merry because the earth is endowing you with a home
Just be merry because the space is just letting you be

Feels grounding.

Passing through breaths
Life defined
Passing with grace
Life adorned
Passing through challenges
Life signified
Passing through with peace
Life embellished
This is it