Poetry from Anindya Paul

Middle-aged South Asian man in a patterned green collared shirt in front of a tan and white wall background.

I could never be green 

Although I saw light of life in your eyes 

Eternal happiness is held in the branches 

Is it good to give up love so much? 

You have swallowed fire without question 

Rooted in the body, get the current 

You gave handfuls of food to the hungry 

This planet full of life air is also your gift. 

Yet the forest cries silent meadow 

Those who live in your flesh and blood 

Without you there is not a single drop of light 

There is no point of life in those who are in the sky 

They have debt 

There are bloodless killing contests 

And your friendship is colorful 

Singing doom on a dead boat… 

Raw tea 

 Raw tea 

 pressing the throat of the mug 

against my lips 

Shame! Shame!

said ‘The color of the blood is now metallic-black 

the color of the sky changes, 

blue with shame and red with fire. 

At this time, the innocent morning is dying on hunger strike. 

I close my eyes 

Light sits in the balcony of the eye 

dim and blinking 

silent 

The door of darkness opens 

I see that death is happy and 

life is in a blender.  

Denying one’s uterus, the fetus will never see again earth’s soil 

The stake is full 

The cock is full of sensual maggots 

They eat the body 

Pulls the vagina out of the body  

Drinks it 

Destroys it and 

At the end of the festival, the trolly is full with dead femoral artery. 

Although then 

The burner flares up again 

The words of judgment are baked in the oven, and 

We sit with our backs to the light 

Twenty-one drops without a glass 

Hoping for the reddish raw tea… 

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