Poetry for the Peeps!

Key Words, Nicolas Guillen, Cuba (Translated Kaushalya Bannerji, 2020) Make of your lifea bell that resonatesor a furrow— in which flowersthe luminous tree of the idea.Raise your voice over the voice without nameof all others, and make visiblethe man, along with the poet. Fill your spirit with flame,see the peaking of the summit,and if the…

A Moment of Silence

Today I am sharing a poem by Emmanuel Ortiz. It was written back in 2002. I remember receiving it in my email so long ago. But it speaks to the importance of this date, September 11th, for millions of Americans–no, not from the United States, but from Chile. Like millions of people, the word “American”…

Autumn’s Corner

We are entering into the beginning of fall, turning the corner of summer into autumn’s path. This bizarre pandemic year with its spring lockdown, cool early summer, and sweltering July and August is bringing a September of extremes to us! I am hoping for a warm sunny fall that stretches out for as long as…

The Sun

All colours come from the sun. And it does not haveAny particular colour, for it contains them all.And the whole Earth is like a poemWhile the sun above represents the artist. Whoever wants to paint the variegated worldLet him never look straight up at the sunOr he will lose the memory of things he has…

Intermission!

Taking a break from the mental ethos of quarantine and isolation. Escaping into colour, which can feel like another dimension, away from the uncertainties of these days. Boredom, hunger, homelessness, and fear have gone viral, depending on one’s social location. And in the midst of so much callous disregard for the plight of the world’s…

Fibromyalgia Awareness during COVID19

I am sharing this piece in honour of May, Fibromyalgia month. May 12th is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. This is a victory for those of us who have been diagnosed with this illness, which has gone through many medical iterations before finally and most recently being considered an illness of the central nervous system. Which makes…

The Dollar Store Poem

1. AnthroApocology Safari suit clad fascist with microscope and coolies enters the Temple of Doom At his shoulder, Harrison, in those  Fordlike soundbytes Urging urging him on Amen Father Son and Holy Cow 2.  General Motors stares back at me From every shop-window his silver dollar and medals swinging to a marching oompah pah oompah…

The Weight/ Solo Quarantine

Waiting for the one who never comes or might come forever. The ground shattered beneath our feet, the sky splintered above us. Mitigating their barbarism or choosing our love? That is the weight of this wait . All the roads are empty, and do not only lead to Rome. Grief and fear sweep through China,…

COVID19 Kills Postmodernism!

The other day, a friend asked me if I had been writing. The truth of the matter is, being solitary sometimes makes me unable to concentrate. I think it’s ironic, that I have not watched Netflix once, since the start of official self isolation for elders and those with pre-existing conditions. Part of this has…

Xanaxocene

A poem about the coronavirus and our changing world

Stardust

in a distant eon, you and i were stars. tumble and spark, ether and eterntity, dust and light, while the world was being born. we were young. fierce and shining like a child’s eyes. in a distant eon, you and i were stars. rock and fire distance and delight. while the world flourished we joined…

They Don’t Come Easily!

i don’t find these days that poems come easily.  they’re no longer at my beck and call. these days, if i want one, it’s as though, like my arthritic hands, battling the last squeeze of toothpaste, my mind squeezes out a little word or two, some syntax. the world is full of silences those beats…