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I have felt the ripples
of predestined change
Some crashing like tidal waves
upon my desolate plane

Others a delicate trickle
through this narrowing gorge;
complex and understated
in its methodical purge

Both deliberate in the upheaval
and churning of the soil
change that brings inner balance
to mind, body and soul

I’ve swum against their current
dragged to murky waters below
tumbling in the turmoil
of my urgent need for control

Now cast upon this rocky shore
panicked and alone
I must surrender to the journey
to find my way back home

I welcome the soaking of soles
as I intend to surf each wave
Immersing myself into its flow
I become the ripples of change
9/24/18
I can scream
I can cry
I can curse the sky
And still, nothing will change

I still cry though
I can't help it
I still ask why
And still, nothing changes

The pain is still the same
It doesn't lessen
It's ever-present
And still, I go on

I still cry though....I can't help it
One of those nights that find the morning without a wink of sleep.
Danger
Code red
We're both feeling the heat

Forbidden
We can't
Compelled, our eyes meet

Exigency
Urgent thirst
Pictures flash in my mind

Desire
Burning hunger
Our bodies entwined

Electric
Your eyes
Provoking gleam as you stare

Desirous
Ardent yearning
A most torrid affair

Savor
A moment
We planned it just right

Delicious
Each touch
As we keep out of sight

Bewitched
I'm hooked
Consumed by your passion

Elated
To know
That was only a fraction

Breathe
Gain control
All in good time

Inevitably
This night
We'll know pleasure, sublime
his coffee is not sweet,
not so bitter, and not so creamy
he wants just the right blend.

he hates polo, just t-shirts.
doesn’t want collars, and over-details.
he likes it simple, often plain.

he’s too picky with unfamiliar foods,
doesn’t eat too much when not at home.
he needs just a single dish.

he doesn’t want it colourful,
black and white satisfy his soul.
a single hue could mean it all.
Difficult times,
In thick smoke, come
Piggybacking the wind!

Like the tides they recede
Leaving their marks on the ground!
 Sep 2018 Nupur Chowdhury
MicMag
Bilingüismo
Intercultural, Communicative
Aprendiendo, Escuchando, Hablando
Forgetting my native tongue
Bye-lingual
The more of a new language I learn, the more it feels like I can't speak English well anymore: bye-bye-lingual


Trying my hand at more Spanish poetry and some new forms as well.
This one I guess is a bilingual didactic cinquain.
 Sep 2018 Nupur Chowdhury
Jade
Our worth is granted to us
By the sum of our lovers,
By how many times we have craved
Or been craved,
By how much our skin longs
For another’s touch.

We are taught to withhold,
And to not take for granted
The immense altruism of company.
Where do we belong
If not in the arms of another?

How dare we for a minute
Accept our own love as enough.
How dare we seek comfort
In our own searching minds.
How dare we think of ourselves as anything other
Than a half in search of the whole.
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