Multiple Days of Grief
.
A vague sniff that lingers
after my chores of daytime and night,
I do not sit or rest
but multiple in thousands
where my hands produce a silent conversation of Gods
between the tongue of a whore and a saint,
a barbed wire,
a quiet, huge wound.
At days, I am as bright as a candlelight,
the darkness only speaks a little
and the nights make me mad,
a heavy loaf of bread-
you see how my words talk only of kitchen and kitchen leftovers,
as if the days are small and made of orange peel
and nothing beyond the short rose bush at my home.
The sky is broken too,
transparent
and elbows scratched.
The Water bodies are swollen now-
they want to quieten the tides.
A road of black, morbid wall
to almost nothing-
back-to-back-
the dark is melting, anyhow.
.
White Stretch Through Boring Days
.
Slender white feet-
toes in the air
they point towards the celling-
a break of a granular mosaic hiss—
a chirp and a boundary.
how they extend the lush transparent air?
toes that stretch to East,
walking through the circular entropy-
toes,
they sit and move,
transcended movements ailing through the sheets-
they do not stop. They whistle
They burp,
to and fro,
they constantly remind me of static and teas and rest.
Toes-
a burgundy afternoon:
a twitch in the head-
toes they speak a linguistic so different
wrapped in the bedsheet
reminiscing an open mouth-
open mouth- full of sand
full of blood
blood, blood, so many thoughts inside this mouth.
There is Osmosis in the toes. They rest to die.
.
Devika Mathur is a published poet, writer, editor residing in India. Her works have been published in The Alipore Post, Madras Courier, Modern Literature, Two Drops Of Ink, Dying Dahlia Review, Pif Magazine, Spillwords, Duane’s Poetree, Piker Press, Mojave Heart Review, Whisper and the Roar amongst others. She is the founder of the surreal poetry website “Olive skins” and writes on her blog My Valiant Soul. She recently published her book “Crimson Skins” and her poems in Sunday Mornings River anthology, The Kali Project and elsewhere.
