a seahorse interpretsmarine blues!
of white swans
distant blues
February 22
eavesdropping the silence
of a taciturn pool!
he knows
I smuggle shadows!
Christable Anon started with a riddle that she was told, is a poem when she was in class III as sudden as one mad afternoon menstrual start. And then she realized she has to walk miles with words. She ventured impulsively, honestly, true to the sensibilities of her surrounding, and unaware of time and event she grew up along with her poetry. Works here are evidences of her makeover; few dedicated few self-explanatory.
This summer afternoon,
A rally marched up my curve
I stretched out my self to
wind you up my waist
besides corals, gems and seas-hells…
There was a song
licking underneath my
tongue
and your voice like ink filling my nerves…
at this circle where
planets do not function
and stars raise their
roots upto the sands
I want you rowing down
In a canoe, past wolves
and weeds
into a lake that’ll take
you to my ribs, my
flesh, my organs and
split beans…
each end of my veins
shall sprinkle colours
earth has never seen,
each pore shall bloom
redder than they did in other autumns
my flesh like an anxious doe..
I shall hold my breath
Like a flickering lamp
Away from the gust of your
body
like you would c r a w l up a satin floor
bent on hips over my
lips
the first matchstick
might burn out
but I’ll hold till you
bloom
out of water into my
sky
that surrounds my intestines
I cant see the mirror
drifting you in its wave to another
woman
for all that in you
-are my fruits
Inch by inch, the whole orchard
I have buried all seeds in you.