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Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry book reviews to feed poets' and poetry lovers' souls.

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india

From the balcony – A Poem by Sunil Sharma

From the balcony
by Sunil Sharma

The thin mother walks briskly,
Balancing load of tied-up firewood on her little head,
With a thin girl-child perched precariously
On her tiny waist, while a barefoot child walks behind,
On the hot concrete.

The girl-child plays with the ropes
Of the bundle of precious firewood,
The dancing ropes are her new toy and distraction.

The trio runs fast for their hovel
At the same moment—a pink-cheeked, obese girl
In white dress and costly shoes
Cries for a new giant teddy bear
In the nearby two-storied shop
Bursting with toys, annoying her painted mum
Talking on the BlackBerry,
While her smoking fat dad leans
Against the black Mercedes
In a busy street in Mumbai.

 

About the Poet:  Sunil Sharma, a senior academic and author-freelance journalist from the suburban Mumbai, India. He has published 20 books so far, some solo and joint.

For further details, please visit: Website: http://www.drsunilsharma.blogspot.in/

He edits Setu: http://www.setumag.com/p/setu-home.html

Tethered – A Poem by Saheli Khastagir

Tethered
by Saheli Khastagir 

I am tethered to your brokenness.

These times are so hard,
Every “breaking news”
like a blow my phone hands to my gut
in small indifferent doses.
Each blow spreads my ribs to make room for
onemore.

The splinter on his back
-the slow breaking of bones and spirits
cleared small rooms for each of us in fit in
to his embrace.

In these scars on our bodies,
the blood dried into soil
to nurture new lives, new loves.

{Is that why childbirth is so painful?}

The gravel in his throat
-like the skinned knee that puberty hands them-
helped sculpt that voice that crashes onto my name,
“Sahe-li”…just so. Perfect.

We plant our hearts in wounds shaped like us,
our hearts- the only muscle that grows and grows
into light-beams guiding our feet towards brokenness
that mirror us.

 

 

About the Poet:  Saheli Khastagir is a self-taught painter, writer and development professional. Her work spans development issues like gender, education, health, sanitation and others across South Asia. Her poems have appeared in or will soon appear publications like The Bombay Review, Guftugu Kitaab, papercuts, and anthologies “Map Called Home” and “Ultimate APM Anthology”. You can find her art on her website; she is currently creating 26portraits of writerly women for 26 letters of the alphabet.

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