CRIMSON SKINS NOW AVAILABLE AS PAPERBACK

I am thrilled to announce that my book Crimson Skins is now available as a kindle and paperback version on Amazon

Praise for the book-

When Devika, a poet whose work I adore, approached me with an Advanced Readers Copy of her poetry collection, I was beyond thrilled. For her success, as well as the opportunity I got to read her art before it released

Crimson Skins is divided into six portions: Isolation, Detachment, Liquid Prose (this section is for prose poems), Delirium, Attachment and Revival. It expresses emotions of sorrow, despair and numbness in very beautifully crafted words. 

To Devika’s Instagram fans, I can assure you that you will enjoy this work, which is an elevation of the wonders we have seen so far. With eloquent metaphors and vivid imagery, the pieces are a delight to read. Each poem is heavy and laden with poetic technique, so I would recommend savouring a couple a day, as I did. For me, that really made the reading experience insightful and enjoyable. There are common themes and ideas that flow through the book in a manner that make the poems fit with each other seamlessly. 

With masterpieces like Ode to November, Formations and Poetry that Eats Me, this isn’t a publication to be missed!

BUY Crimson Skins on Amazon US – HERE.

buy crimson Skins on Amazon India –Here

A prayer to hope

Bijay Parida - Krishna Comes to Persuade Radha (Geru) @ The ...

Cities left like empty vases,
soundless minds,
a spot once full
looks ghastly.

Run, run, run
to the places unknown
hiding beneath the carcass of nature,

Sit, observe and run
to the places that are quiet now.

Learn from the two-fold mystery of God,
they do it like a yard spinning.
Do not fear,
this pool is a rubber band,
the more you stretch, the more it shall get you.

Clench the fist of the thing you see next now,
yes, a rope,
a pill,
a prayer,
but do not stop.
you have to live like a sussurous hymn.


Wrote after the super cyclone- Amphan.

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How bad is my poetry?

I do not write today to hold the things leaking
or to slip across the rooms with fever.
No.
I do not write to mourn the sunburn of humankind,
the lips are already pale, i do not wish to write another metaphor too.
Things that have way, will escape anyhow
and so is my today’s poetry.
It has no sense maybe,
no remorse floating
but i must assure you, I do not write to hold your breath even.

I announce I am rather happy
but then
you might feel my imagery too strong
for I use things too harshly
for i use things in a weird Ethiopian mimic

But the mind does not halt
it will shout
and then you will have
some iterations again, too many fancy laces spread.
Your mind will be inundated with countless meanings of it
and then
you will turn everything to me
for i am the one producing,
collapsing
exhilarating
dying
in ways only unknown here
It is Summer here
the sun will come up and soak in my leaflets
the scribbled ink
the detached sonnets from a stranger.

Everything will die
and yet I might not speak of it
for my words are too fancy for you.