A precious fruit
Holding an apple is
History circulating in motion
The first fall,
The first digital revolution,
The doctors' one way.
It serves purposes of many.
But i hold an apple
With my pocket knife
Make art out of a fruit
A nice butterfly, smartly knitted
A map of my origin
It can be moulded in many
It can divide nations too
Wage a war
Genocide and what not
An imaginative flair
Of so many realities.
Objects then are not objects
But a history
Fighting against the white crown
The sun down ruling
Tearing the flag with just
A pinch of writing.
An apple can do wonders-
It saved my neighbour's
Life
A sickening days of chewing
The flesh and the core
The lady is now walking fast.
Then I have heard
A boy of merely ten
Fell to a dark depth
A big precipice of high altitude
He was picking apples
An apple served his death.
A precious fruit, I thought
And stopped my pen.
May Days
Rains in May days are like coins
The surplus is warm
The last drop, Tangy
-An orange flush
Over my cheeks
To remind me
Flush away and heal
The poison ivy.
In the afternoons
I look up,
The violet vast spreads
In the open.
A rainbow makes my sensitivity
A beautiful pool
Of coloured waters.
Then I know howling storms pour
To mirror the humane
Blanketed deep around
A vulnerable, little child
Coiled in wintry rage
The eyes are afraid to look open
And taste the earthly paradise.
At night I walk open
The night plains
winged with doors of magic blind
A stairway to a fountain
The tails swim in the mermaid bliss
Funnel like, the soma
Wets the green flush
and weed out the darkening thrush.
Then, the castle of
The mountain
Where cherubs lie in ditsy water
And sprinkle the purplish hymn
Of Almighty
And his blessed lamb
In surplus rain of
May days.
Spectral Shadows
A small child of buried past
Pocketed her memories
over her little watch-
Ping out the unhinged wall
Over the bricks,
Little tulips here and there
Lying flat over
A cauldron
Of Holocaust Shrieks
And template of dehumanized
Silence.
The sudden fall of
The writer
And institutions that zipped
Up his lips
Over testimonies
Later, he wrote a book
On linguistic silence.
His fall failed back
Between two worlds
Masked and silenced
Words of Jews and
Zeroes.
Dates of people
She remembered well
Her taped
Eyes that grew up
Upon Seeing flashes
To Spectres
In a whim
Of seated big men,
Eating away within
The ruptured channel.
On Monday,
she met a friend
Of her past school
Swaying by the river walk
Of little feet dangling above.
Rosebuds after the summer haul
And she made friends
From one to many
And chalked out their birthdays
Like her favourite puzzle-
Two of them stringed out
She could remember too much
She touched the thumb
And cut the string
And sat down by the last bench
With her little flowy skirt
And loosened net shoes.
"I sat and counted
One two three
I can remember all of them-
Her favourite way to dance in the hall
And how she made her first cut out
I sat then and became invisible
A whole bunch of rosebuds
In the afternoon fall
The fallen petals, the trampled buds
And i sat at the end
Tallest and i counted
One petals two and three
With my bag of rosebuds after
The classroom went dingy
And i was alone
And it rained hard
Then I gave them my
Umbrella and my favourite petals
As I sat with my
Spectral shadows
With my pocketed watch.
Sayani Mukherjee is a poet hailing from Chandannagar, a former French colony in West Bengal. She received her post graduation degree in English literature from Banaras Hindu University, Varanasi. Her creative works have appeared in various international and national magazines like Medusa's kitchen poetry, Litterateurrw, Beatnik Cowboy magazine, Third Eye Butterfly press, Writers workshop, Synchronized chaos magazines, Fiction niche, The quiver review, The Chakkar , Literary cognizance , Literary Horizon, Horroscope press , The romantic breeze including the literary magazine of her alma mater and several others. She is also part of various anthologies of poems i. e. ''Paradise on earth'', " Bleeding hearts and Mumbling Minds' ' etc. Recently her debut poetry collection ''ODE TO MERAKI'' got published by Authorspress, New Delhi. She likes to engage her leisure in photography, cinema and arts.
