Poetry Finalist : Terrain.org 5th Annual Contest
Floating Temple
Mumbai
the wind-kissed ocean smells private
supplicant herons on a white walkway
mischief taps
her lips with rosebud
tugs my headscarf
calls me didi. healthy cheeks
sharp my aunt’s sister-in-law:
the temple takes care of you
the temple priest wears tiny mirrors
to reflect the upside down
embroidered faces who petition
god through him
in his facelines debris of prayers
acid rain of prayers
the bulky clog and strain of prayers
sleep in his eyes and smirch on his collar
wish for my heart’s desire whisper
bitter petals rose push between my lips
peacock feathers tap my covered head
all I can think is god
why do i feel like I’m stuck to a flystrip?
help me, I’m drowning in fresh air
the crush from behind pushes me into him
the metal barrier between us cold
his body warm and fragrant
his droning prayers ongoing
scales falling like overripe fruit
home: autumn is tender and breathless,
cool and fragile. one frost will kill it
no one knows which (this reminds me of you)
I know this holy man
he misses god
who left him here
he has fallen in love like a red leaf
and now he must dissolve into the winter
the crowd inhales
I am returned to my aunt
outside the temple
trinkets and tracts
we regain our slippers
Clean
Bangalore
very private things
cannot be compared but
I feel
I may
have mastered
the bucket bath
braided rag rug
tiles cracked
water heater groaning
ask the cockroach watching me
my ripe fresh flesh
floating sliver of goat’s milk soap
torn towel in the sun
morning songs merged
with the neighbour’s alto
(I search the wet hair
hailing rickshaws
wondering who is he)
the green light of the warm
water as I pour it over my skin
falling in dense ropes
its fingers trailing down my throat
under my arms along my breast
sliding between my toes
I am heron balanced
Shiva dancing
like a peaceful thought
careful not to wet my cockroach
his brown wings gleaming
like an oil fingerprint
melting into another day
Fresh Market (I)
Pune
noise layered across earshot
bird on truck on train on dog
life layered on brown faces
gritted between black teeth
perched on faded blankets
red fingers stained and re-stained
life lingers in heavy wrinkles
slides on damp cheeks
the market is cows, cats, a kitten, goats
a sparrow hopping on a hill of cilantro
releasing its fragrance, hops to curry leaves
a symphony, add cinnamon, add hair oil
thigh sized papayas and piles of red carrots
a famous film song pinging quarter tones
shattering layers with a coconut hammer
sleep at the corners of the eyes
layers of lives tucked
into dusty hems and low cuffs
faith on pride on resignation
joy on survival
food on child
silk on skin on bone on soul
Photo by Nadia Chaney.