Category: Poem

2018, Poem

Epistle to the Philistines

Politicians blowing fascist dog whistles, outright speeches to separateness, suppressing public missals gerrymandering seeding distress, attempting to install permanent minority rule, new Society of Thule installing yes men and compromised in-divid-uals lacking in moral scruples. White House crumbling down, panic, distraction. Border militarization turning heads by design as judges appointed to district distraction, state and federal lines, long tenures sealing Justice’s gate f’r a long … Continue reading Epistle to the Philistines

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Aishwariya Ramachandran1 Comment
2018, life, Poem

It Is! An Ode to Life and “Is” ness

It is a great palindromic phantasy, an ouroboros eating ouroboroses endlessly in a firmament of nothing, and stars. It is the turning of aeons around the great precipice of supermassive black holes, the kind you find in a bathroom sink. It is my own forgetting, dismemberment, and it is always just on the tip of my tongue, which is trying to taste the tip of … Continue reading It Is! An Ode to Life and “Is” ness

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Aishwariya Ramachandran8 Comments
2018, life, Poem

A walk down memory lane

  Listen back, further and further Don’t you smell the fire And hear the whoops of the hunt? Further now, your tendon straining the humidity, a vast expanse of green a flash intimation of rumbling mechanical beasts Go back even deeper Your wings are vibrating with anticipation A thousand rainbows drift lazily over your carapace Deeper still Here we are, dividing I make myself half to … Continue reading A walk down memory lane

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Aishwariya Ramachandran3 Comments
2018, life, Poem

A tribute to Alan Watts

There’s an odd word in Welsh, Hiraeth, that means  missing someone you’ve never met It’s funny how often I feel it when I think of you fingers lightly brushing the leaves of overgrown thickets in Kent, while the War raged Salt spray mingling with your beard as you watch seagulls and crabs knocking on doors in the oldest of dances I can hear your voice … Continue reading A tribute to Alan Watts

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Aishwariya Ramachandran7 Comments
2018, life, Poem

Listen to the laughter of the river

We build a wall to keep out a thousand armies The same wall keeps two friends apart Two lovers fingertips cry out for joining And see, Only stone What safety is worth this distance? Listen to the laughter of the river It knows not from whence it came, It cares not for where it ends up It knows itself Only when it touches the riverbank … Continue reading Listen to the laughter of the river

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Aishwariya Ramachandran9 Comments
2018, life, Poem

The Machine Eaters

Magpies burble outside frosty windows. Autumn sidles into view. I dreamed many things. Awakening is sharp on the spirit. All the old heroes are dead and buried and pushing up wilting flowers, soot-covered, frayed at the edges, desperate for a clean breath in the sickly yellow-glow of the industry. Red-faced oligarchs loot the coffers of citizenry taking human capital and freedoms of movement, speech, and … Continue reading The Machine Eaters

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Aishwariya Ramachandran8 Comments
2018, life, Poem

Vajra Bell

Autumn comes, leaves blanket the neighbor’s driveway in bright yellow, same color as the dry straw grass that hairs the hillside seen in bleary morning eye. Dusty, trees drop their deadweight, birds recline in baking heat screech in protest, I sit by the little Aztec pot awaiting a flash from the blue, a bolt from beyond, a strike from the novel outside. I have imposed … Continue reading Vajra Bell

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Aishwariya Ramachandran2 Comments
2017, Poem

Brushwork

Went flower picking on the mount sun-drenched in the early afternoon, curved absences of light wriggled cross the rough tar back of the road I paused briefly to examine the flutterings of a butterfly, brilliant orange, drunken flight moved locations out to grab a large coffee from the service station pre-paid to avoid lackacash awkwardness sidled unnanounced down the side of the Bard’s Palace, cliffy … Continue reading Brushwork

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Aishwariya Ramachandran4 Comments
2017, Poem

Saturn’s Dove

Strain and death and all other supposed human recognitions and ideologies about the great unspeakable whimsy that fills every space with nothing and slathers matter with Shiva and spinning images wrought out of time and mind, that giggles with joyful youthful eerie glee speaking in tongues and out of fountains and holes in sides of mountains and Rub Al-Khali and Konya and graveyards the world … Continue reading Saturn’s Dove

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Aishwariya Ramachandran2 Comments