Appearance – Devika Mathur

Come read me here.

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

I carry generations of memories and mementoes

the unmade bed which once remained futile

I call myself by names like “Spring” “Autumn” “Rain”

the Earth : precisely.

together in my compromise,

lights on a cave wall

often a soil that is way too parched,

I walk here,

on the barren land of lonesome despair

knitting  a quiet dream of my irrevocable silence,

The air never sits on my lap,

it touches my throat and sinks vehemently

as if I am the injured summer

With me, the garden creaks of rain,

with laughter and daughters

and so I carry promises of diluted hope

I am the Earth,

no sap and no color,

a nameless child of an unforgettable father.

Wait

let love be the light

let the air be printed by the leaf shadow

and I shall sniff the appearance

pouring light into the void

fifty feet into the air.


Devika…

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emitting poems

Read

a beautiful turtle

Zebra mussel on an august window is nice
to rub on cheeks and forehead.
Manifestations are the plums of my mellow.

I pick fruits
and flowers
and hold between fingers. I am pleased to stretch fingers.

The light on everything is going to have my eyes for a long time. My urges are cold steel buttons.
Felt in suddenness.

A tall, wide eyed
doll
hanging on my shoulders

breathes on my neck.

In a blue picture,
penguins dive one after another to save their lives
from disappearing cold.

Reddening sky of red sunsets will be of the blue moon.

Krills in a cascade lie awake on wet stones
Worms gnawing tangerine melodies
and slides down to the belly
gripping the tangerine.
Divisions of taste hang in the air. I reveal art.
Unlike my last poem. This time,
it is a mellow dream and I have let know
what covers whatever…

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else

Trust me, she is a genius.

a beautiful turtle

Closer is a look. Worse.
Lizard stares through the khus bundle.
Bright pomanders.
Tangerine tongue.

People eat quietly on the table.
These people don’t know
their beauty
and would like to be told.

I learn about a new color,
Azure.
Rain is of the beautiful.
Lizard only hides in the rain.

I stopped
talking
too much
in poetry.

I break more
lines
than
before.

A man with good taste in everything
told me
that
I don’t know where
to end.

He has come to know
that I know the world
just
through the magazines.
So, I fear.

“For something like a drum
you must use a word
like
dilapidated.
You tear
flowers and papers.
You don’t tear the drums.”

You look at abandonments two years
after.
The look is closer.
You save things and keep looking.
Lizard falls down
from the bundle.

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Devika Mathur – How I Function Each Day

On SD today!

Sudden Denouement Collective

Wake up,
a Sunday morning,
brush… brush… brush.
A round bottle of face wash,
cleanse
cleanse your soul now,
rub…rub…rub
with your knuckles upside down,
breathe.

Watch the sky,
sip on your tea,
a warm ginger aroma
sip like an old lady,
boredom comes next,
one , two , three

bath now,
shower on,
naked bruises & body
a shower so surreptitious,
calming yet haunting.

What’s next?
A naked observation of life,
galvanizing particles in the air,
splitting & chopping
a few more apples to bite now.
Breakfast done,
sleep now.
Quiet your mind.

Repeat:
these are steps for survival,
steps to knit a cobweb around your empty body.
Collect a few more items,
mosaic dreams, perhaps?
Collect some more,
keep it in your fading garden of memory.
Lighten up your shoulders again,
repeat, you!
Repeat or you die.

[Devika Mathur is a published poetess residing in India. Her works…

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