Self Portrait as a Half

Woman in the sky

what i’ve gained from your design

the beach is oddly quiet between

an inky charcoal night,

blended with a moment of regret

where i drag my face in the sand,

so incomplete

i can only scream.

A portrait is not complete without its painter

the colors tend to dry,

we’re worlds apart her and i,

separation made me dependent,

there’s a girl on this sphere of survivability

who counts the days between euphoria into isolation.

On the road there was

a man looked lonely

as vistas of the road

brought togetherness.

The man waited for a car

or bus. The wait, interminable.

Brought togetherness, with

childhood of days

that brought togetherness.

and recycles of lostness.

brought togetherness

the road seemed hollow

like deep within

brought togetherness.

Ananya S Guha
Shillong, INDIA.

NIGHT OF THE CURACH

I want to live

Where the sea is the end of the world

And the curach sways 

Sweet as the nightingale

In the melody of the galan 

To her sweet high-pitched thorn

I surrender

To the curach’s guttural waves and chatter

Bleeding ink across the bay

Through the eyes of Inishturk

Cast your nets

To the Trinity’s lone hand

That waits

In the driftwood

In the smoke on the hills, moves a hush

Till evening comes in

In its enormity

Let the end of the world

Wash over me

In your golden lugent hair

Sweet Niamh

Where the black curach sways as

Sweet as the nightingale

In the stillness of 

A dodecahedron

Isn’t that how the world 

Took your mind

In Reading Gaol

In the night of the curach

I am perched upon 

Such worlds

Self portrait from my spiderwebs

drenched in milky moonlight, i climb
up to my home in the tangled branches, among my webs.
rain plummets onto soft blades of grass,
from the spiderwebs i see myself in puddles of water;
the ever-changing reflection i know i must confront.
i am stuck between the comforting earth and the freeing sky,
a malfunction where the body meets the mind.
i have a hunger that eats at me;
the eternal hunger to have a body made of moonlight;
constellations as my bones,
planets for eyes,
to be everything
and nothing
all at once.

Tedious routine

Down the clouds I fall,
Up from evil coziness, wish farewell.
Go around, see the liar mirror, I’m a lost caterpillar.
Down, a rest I request as I’m slowly putting my finger into Aurora’s needle.
Up! Come on soldier, where is your spirit?
Go, steps feel enormous heavy, am I an elephant?
Down, to my dad’s car as my head is resisting the heavy atmosphere of early morning.
Up, a cheer my dad convokes, but I’m hiding my heavy bag under my eyes.
Go, class starts, the time seems to be playing with me; it goes fast and then immensely slow.
Down, my body falls, my foot skipped a stair.
Up, some miracle energy, a tasty bread of jam collapses with my tongue.
Go, more of the same, but I count starts trying to survive.
Down as I sit, an enormous space between exit and me.
Up to the ceiling, the time of escaping has come.
Go, the only thing my head thinks about.
Down, back to my dad’s car, as I sing a victory melody.
Up, the smell of home I can taste.
Go, as my steps go further and faster.
Down, back to my so wished coziness.
But tomorrow another battle I will survive.

Journey across the sea

Take me to the other side of the sea,  

There where the pain settles along the shore 

And the boat bids a goodbye. 

There the generous winds come,

Gently takes me to the another world 

Of pleasure among plaintives.

There where the exhaustible afternoon fades away

And my weary mind rejuvenates. 

Steadily, the haze passed by with notes of chripping birds.

I wake up from the slumber of my own unconscious

Into the world of glow. 

There falls every shadow

And I dissolve into the hues of oneness,  

Commanding in the glory of God. 

For the light I have been longing for so long 

Sailed deep within my faith. 

There i saw myself lying under her feet, 

And she smiled over the sea. 

I wasn’t so lonely before 

To hold her grace in my empty hands. 

It happened for she wanted me. 

Yes, Radharani truly filled me!

Ghazal From My Notebook

You, What are you now that I am gone?

What are we now that I am gone?

I have been on my lonesome for the past year and four months.

What has changed since I’ve been gone?

I still think of you, every time I see a pair of Levi’s jeans or think of our old art teacher,

but your face has blurred in my mind since I’ve been gone.

I’ve replaced you

I didn’t want to, but times got hard while you were gone.

How often do you think of me, have you replaced me too

now that I’m gone?