Search Results for: Poetry

POETRY | Meanders by Jayati Roy

The meanders of my mind know not its banks, Transparent they are as my soul, Placid they may seem at times, The turbulence they withhold. They know not from whence they came, But the end they can foretell. Why these contours? Who can tell? Are these meanders an estuarine wonder? Or are they divinely vulgar? Whatever the perspective, negative or positive, Their bosom weighs heavy with worldly desires. Do the sun’s rays blacken your complexion? Do the rainwaters swell your gait? Does the cold harden your stance? Do you, like the master and his maid engage in a corpulence...

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POETRY | Careless Youth by Krishen Mohan

That I spoke in careless youth, You pressed me, Suffering no fools. That I spoke in careless youth, Too much I had been, Foolish a brute. That I spoke in careless youth, This chasm I turned, Blind my good eye, That I spoke in careless youth, No more, I deplore, Ravenous for truth. *** Header image by Papaioannou Kostas on Unsplash  Hey guys, we’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve got some and aren’t shy to share it with the world, please drop us an email at editors@eksentrika.com. Oh, do read our Submission Guidelines first. Here’s another poem...

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POETRY | Sweat With Style by Charles Chiam

I sweat With Style The heat Does not Bother me I harvest My vegetables My crops The fruits Of My labour These Glistening droplets On My skin Is Proof Of my efforts I am dirty Now But tonight Rewards and Feast *** Header image by BBH Singapore on Unsplash Hey guys, we’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve got some and aren’t shy to share it with the world, please drop us an email at editors@eksentrika.com. Oh, do read our Submission Guidelines first. Here’s another poem you might enjoy.  POETRY | Music Box by Christine Chu Hey guys,...

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POETRY | Music Box by Christine Chu

revolving cylinder worn grey with honey gold stains plucking at loose tired tuned teeth on time-marinated steel comb making Pachelbel wobble at every wonky clang of Canon in D singing dust-coarsened melody that no longer glides but trudges and sinks only dainty little ballerina pink and poised     untouched by age still holds her perfect pose and spins on     tiptoe twirling to an unsung song of sacrifice     to the echoes of a mother’s muted heartbeat and a child’s first cry *** Header image by Daniel Tuttle on Unsplash. Hey guys, we’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve got some...

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POETRY | The Child; The Seed by Anuradha Chelliah

A loving moment Two hearts united, A cell created, With love and affection. A seed, planted in the soil, Watered and nurtured, Nurtured and nurtured, Watched day by day. Love and care For the one and only In the womb Full of warmth and excitement. The first sprout jutted out, It was the happiest moment, The smile on the face, The sparkle in the eyes. The cry, The look, The touch, Are all miracles. It continued to bloom Beautiful red bud, One, two and three buds, The heart waited for it to blossom. The best instants The touch between...

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