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Literature Text
A Matter of Time
You think Sandy's got vengeance in its eyes?
You see vengeance everywhere don’t you?
In the fast, wet winds churning around your Queens apartment
In the lightning flashes on Ocean Parkway where we walked once like a
Couple of refugees.
The waves will be taller than you, they’re saying
But I imagine you sitting on a grey dock somewhere
Oblivious of official warnings
Your dark wavy hair sticking to your forehead of scattered lies
And losses,
Your hard, careless body framed in endless brine.
I might not be allowed to love you anymore
But the rules of capturing, consuming and catenating happen to be
As fluid as that road where water now rushes in the direction of
Gaping news cameras.
If you think Sandy’s got vengeance in its eyes
Why don’t you stop hiding behind words and walls and webs
And have a staring contest with me?
© Debjani Chakravarty 2012
You think Sandy's got vengeance in its eyes?
You see vengeance everywhere don’t you?
In the fast, wet winds churning around your Queens apartment
In the lightning flashes on Ocean Parkway where we walked once like a
Couple of refugees.
The waves will be taller than you, they’re saying
But I imagine you sitting on a grey dock somewhere
Oblivious of official warnings
Your dark wavy hair sticking to your forehead of scattered lies
And losses,
Your hard, careless body framed in endless brine.
I might not be allowed to love you anymore
But the rules of capturing, consuming and catenating happen to be
As fluid as that road where water now rushes in the direction of
Gaping news cameras.
If you think Sandy’s got vengeance in its eyes
Why don’t you stop hiding behind words and walls and webs
And have a staring contest with me?
© Debjani Chakravarty 2012
Literature
Send Me the Rain
today, they're all talking about the fires.
the people on TV, the voices on the radio,
the mouths that open and whisper
and softly touch tongues. even the sky is
revealing black plumes of smoke,
flaunting shameless and seductive curves.
the rain's been too dry and the lightning
isn't wet enough, panic is
rising out of control in this
burning city. that's
not all;
we have a crisis on
our hands- the balloons are
running out of air and even
the experts don't really know why,
and on top of those sinking rubber toys
my soul is losing moisture
faster than the crackling grass under the duress of flame.
i'm sta
Literature
Harvest Moon
Three a.m. moonlight
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.
Literature
October
I only felt autumn's presence
In October, in Hamburg
A month after she was expected
Crisp leaves, warm light
Geese on the lawn by the lake
And loneliness
Stretching through short days and long nights
Heralds of winter's coming
Shoes worn thin by miles
I wander, a stranger, mute
Head full, heart singing
The love of dark trunks and bright leaves
Untempered by geography
Or language
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Remembering a city currently visited by a hurricane. That's all.
All resources mine, except the man alluded to.
Note: I am humbled by the DD. There are too many talented artists and writers on
, too many that I look up to, for me to imagine that I'd ever be featured like this. Thanks Becca, and all the readers who liked a poem that essentially exposes this nagging vulnerability I have. THANK YOU.
All resources mine, except the man alluded to.
Note: I am humbled by the DD. There are too many talented artists and writers on
, too many that I look up to, for me to imagine that I'd ever be featured like this. Thanks Becca, and all the readers who liked a poem that essentially exposes this nagging vulnerability I have. THANK YOU.Comments25
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Congrats on the well-deserved DD. 