One of my earlier poems that was accepted by Kitaab journal, was published just today. Please take a look if you have time.
Three poems of mine in the Peacock Journal.
My latest poem to appear in a peer-reviewed journal. Its always nice when you write a biological poem that has relevance to nature and perhaps drives home the message, how vulnerable some species are.
The journal is Canary Literary Magazine. Enjoy!
How after 4 years, together,
we see two indentations,
on a mattress, the beauty sleeps,
that become discolored impressions,
You see, as a measure of time.
I can’t help smile,
seeing my wife, keeps her legs hoisted
in the air, to allow for the tadpoles
to swim through by gravity, while
a Sunday Times newspaper
lies beneath her, on the bed.
Silly me, to think, that for
two people who are ambivalent,
about children, we possess the right
to create one. We laugh afterwards,
looking at the wet newspapers,
the humble pie, that is served,
to clean up, and perhaps
even replace, a wet sheet.
The same newspapers, we will, one day,
fold, to make paper boats or floating jets.
The conquistadors and the aviators,
paper hoists, inside a child’s heart.
While, before throwing away the newspaper,
I look at a little stain, rich in life,
directly on a newspaper article, that to
my delight, – and anguish – reads,
Quadruplets born at
Lady Ridgeway Hospital.
How we loved, the exhales,
To the exfoliants, the chemistry,
Of what was so tender, and if not,
The little bit of daylight, between me
And you. How we let our blindfolds,
Strip our pupils, our peep holes.
While we begin the seduction,
Juxtaposition-ed fragrances, ever-closing gazes,
The mouth in extenuating circumstances,
With the sail raised, “Ahoy Sailor”!
Holding her, in sheer brevity, in ephemerality,
Ethereal lips too esurient, to miss out,
Inching towards an inclined state,
To become conscious, of a paltry breath,
A short burst of hot air, combing fuzz.
The coincidences, that we coalesce to,
How détente is beautiful, and prone to,
Empower, a euphemism, as four letters.
The oasis is lush, the springs are pristine,
The date palms are tall. The dire sense
Of water, on a tongue’s terminus,
To be quenched,
Just as much, by defeat…….
As by surrender.