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 Nov 2014 Disha Verma
AmberLynne
Thank you
       I say quickly, out of nowhere.

For what?
      you question.

Reasons pile up so fast
in my head that they avalanche,
forming a barricade to my mouth.

For everything,
      I say simply,
      meaning so much more.

For loving me,
       I think simply,
       meaning so much more.
11.20.14
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."

I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough

one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.

"you can make it," I said to him.

he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.

you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"

but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"

"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"

I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...

it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.

he too knows it's ******* but that somehow it all helps.
don't undress my love
you might find a mannequin:
don't undress the mannequin
you might find
my love.
she's long ago
forgotten me.
she's trying on a new
hat
and looks more the
coquette
than ever.

she is a
child
and a mannequin
and death.
I can't hate
that.
she didn't do
anything
unusual.
I only wanted her
to.
 May 2014 Disha Verma
Harkaran
Spill tears upon my letter
Remember me today?
Memories now salty drops
Crumple it and throw it away?

But pick it up, won't you?
As long as it takes
After your anger quells
To count my mistakes?

While your fingers touch
And your eyes scan
The edges of the letter
It will make me feel better

Is the paper damp?
Dry it in the sun
Read it under a lamp
About when love was young?

In the moon and sun
I have sent tokens
Of undying love
In dreams awoken

Keep one eye
On the road for me
Close them once
And hope for me

Keep them shut
and try to see
What couldn't be
And could have been?
 May 2014 Disha Verma
Harkaran
Far away, far away
Beneath a wraith of thorns
Not today, not today
I will never forget the scorn

Far below, far below
Under a bouquet of seeds
I must go, I must go
Where mother and son bleed

Not again, not again
The sky will suffer and hate
Far ahead, far ahead
There are ruins lying in wait

Far behind, far behind
Beside corpses twisted in regret
Never again, never again
Should we let the living forget
''The nation which forgets its defenders will be itself forgotten.'' -Calvin Coolidge
 Apr 2014 Disha Verma
Harkaran
That night the moon
Ascended reluctantly
To its nocturnal throne
That night I steered
my eyes expectantly
To its corpse cold glow
Under a crown
Rimmed with stars
I saw a specter dance
A faded memory
In a bone white frock
Night wind and grey hair
Soundless voice and empty stare
"Is this just good poetry?
In the moonlit park
Or are these the laments
Of your broken heart?"
She shed a single tear
On the cool of my palm
I said the night fares fine
I cannot hold what isn't mine
She laughed out bitter tears
"Don't hold it for long
Pick up your heart
Cherish what is gone
Bit by bit, piece by piece"
A heart can only break
When someone tries to reach
And plays with it at least
Prose
 Apr 2014 Disha Verma
Harkaran
Make that empty heart red
Don't leave it sad and grey
It takes one click you know
To make the rest of my day
BEGGING FOR LIKES
(not really, it rhymes)
September Face Remembered
A year ago September
two strangers briefly met
joked, laughed, talked awhile
that day was wet;
Yet it's her smile
that I still remember.

I can't say why
that look so rare
recurs then lingers new
in my thoughts. Care
flees, sorrows are few
one year's gone by.

Eleven months, thirty days
mindful of her glance
I watch with pain
waiting for one chance
of meeting her again
passing along my ways.

Waiting: looking for some
sign of her. Last
year it rained. Wet
streets anew today. Past,
Present, pause. I fret
anxious. Will she come?

TOBIAS  The Other Being I Am Sometimes
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