I stayed on the bedside stand, waiting, waiting, waiting Eager and rushed, meanwhile your glands are activating The suckling is so rewarding, to hell with stares To hell with stares, caring no more about public places Enzymes confused with hormones, tears and gurgles you lift up your chest, and determination into your journal He absentlyContinue reading “Musings of a feeding bottle”
Author Archives: Kashiana
Lists come and go
Is it true, we can only love so much That love is not a calling, but our prison Is it fair, we face the weather in submission That trees and rabbits can be an awakening to your vision Is it a wonder, we are wanton in life That deathbed is our place of strife IsContinue reading “Lists come and go”
she stood solemn
Nortre dame today, Monday I watched you from the popular instragrammable location I watched you you stood solemn your usual self spine erect, as men women passed through your inner sanctum on a journey, finding selfie focused spirituality dabbling in conversations honoring you, your vastness On the edge of you, weary you stay inward, meditating accumulating relics, symbolsContinue reading “she stood solemn”
an unpresidented checklist
using homonyms and proverbs and playing with the English language a senior and a mentor, he courageously asked for a date the question was never about the weather, but whether he was barking up a wrong tree, unreachable he insisted, she relented, and yes he got cold feet no small feat it was to bringContinue reading “an unpresidented checklist”
my broom closet
Things in my broom closet things that stay, things that sway like the screams of my body clasped by your ugliness, my face like the red knitted scarf, knotted braided with wild fire and moon drops like amazing mistakes from my altar soaked in a jar of blue illuminance like pieces of luck written onContinue reading “my broom closet”
Dull Doilies?
A doily, a dull crocheted symmetry Sits on my bedside table, has for months It has a fringe and beads woven all through I notice, a little sentiment threaded into an edge Just above where I left the coffee cup stain When the lamp illuminates it, it exudes charisma An incandescent coziness hums fromContinue reading “Dull Doilies?”
Encounters
Choice I did not choose to be here, did I? Growing up into my person, was a delight Because I was worked on, kneaded by and by In opposition yet proximate were fiction, poetry and fright My encounters spill over Loss I have traveled journeys, not just of places Embodied within me are bonfire embers,Continue reading “Encounters”
Basant
*Aayee basant pala udant Spring announced with a sneeze, framing a collection of stories that tease. Cold enough to relish kindness in kesar rice, warmth that has a quality of hands held under a starry night. Peeling out of an autumnal rust, vigor restored in mustard bursts. Moments forming in tears on pollen dust, a processionContinue reading “Basant”
tales of things
Seemingly obvious, yet difficult to list my dad’s crisp uniform polished brass stars on epaulets; fear marinated with pride a metal box with a small brass holder with mama’s jewel trinket; pieces of my heart the caramel ice cream bowl he refused to share on our first date; still special the grey tape deck that had aContinue reading “tales of things”
A Work practitioner’s musings
I was also asked what I will be when I grow up I have two problems with the question One -you never grow up you only grow into Two – I am who I become not what I do Who did I become, who am I becoming In a world of labels work practitioner seemed mostContinue reading “A Work practitioner’s musings”
Kashiana 