myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com
FRISSON: April 2013
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IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Sunday, April 21, 2013. For all I know, you probably never cared much. For love in your lifetime. There's an ease with. Which goodbyes roll out of your tongue, casually,. Like a favorite word reared to amuse but stings. In its haunting uncertainty of a future encounter. How often have I longed for a suggestive to break. Out of your tongue and its various meanings collapsing. In everything that makes me woman. This has been. The lament. The lament of more than ninety days. They'll ...
myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com
FRISSON: October 2013
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IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Tuesday, October 8, 2013. I've been meaning to write a poem mourning your loss, mourning the heady start that we'd got, mourning everything that would help to purge you off me. I wonder if catharsis is in the process or in the moment that would eventually negotiate my cure. I've been meaning to ask you about your knives- the ones you say were reared never to draw blood. Wonder-struck, I asked you, would you still call them knives? Now Playing: Arziyan.Delhi 6. Too Early, Love.
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FRISSON: May 2013
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IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Friday, May 24, 2013. This periodic moulting of auld romances into hypocritical friendships! The wretched non-alignment of the male and female! This falling out of love! This mending of the heart! Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Too Early, Love. Not a Love Poem. An End Like This. On Shores of Auld Romances. Main bhi hoon yahan. Adopt your own virtual pet! Her Seance, His Sojourn. Aur aapka number hai. View my complete profile.
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FRISSON: Of Mothers and Cats
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IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Friday, May 11, 2012. Of Mothers and Cats. That must be a demon daughter who. Dreams of her mother being dead. Only saints take truncheons to dreams. But the dream doesn’t end there. The haunting memory of that dream catches. Up with her waking life and kills her slowly,. Shouting and screaming at the frayed. Perversity of her dreams doesn’t help. The demon daughter. In an agony of emotion. She turns to religion; she prays. As regions of life explode in her dreams again,.
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FRISSON: Homecoming
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2013/03/homecoming.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Thursday, March 14, 2013. It's midnight and you're not home,. You're heading a conspiracy. Soon there'll be a massacre which. The papers shall report. For you wouldn't tell me. Fearing I might call it. One of your passing fancies. I could hold you back. It's midnight and you're not home. And there's a message. On the phone saying,. Ah, D I miss you.". The sender threatens to love me more. Than I love you so I. Drafted a dirty letter to him. Detailing how thoroughly you.
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FRISSON: Letter # 1
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2012/05/letter-1.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Sunday, May 13, 2012. I thought the call would last for an hour. But it didn't. You sounded jittery; maybe the rains make everything sound jittery. The clouds had huddled up for another fresh spell. The air was too dank to reek of the earth without. Perhaps duped by memory the earth seemed to barge in, defying dankness, defying welcome. But aren't the absent soon forgotten? I can only hope Life interrupts again, the way it always does, for better or for worse. Please visit on thes...
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FRISSON: Nemesis
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2013/04/nemesis.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Sunday, April 21, 2013. For all I know, you probably never cared much. For love in your lifetime. There's an ease with. Which goodbyes roll out of your tongue, casually,. Like a favorite word reared to amuse but stings. In its haunting uncertainty of a future encounter. How often have I longed for a suggestive to break. Out of your tongue and its various meanings collapsing. In everything that makes me woman. This has been. The lament. The lament of more than ninety days.
myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com
FRISSON: Letter # 2
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2013/10/letter-2.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Tuesday, October 8, 2013. I've been meaning to write a poem mourning your loss, mourning the heady start that we'd got, mourning everything that would help to purge you off me. I wonder if catharsis is in the process or in the moment that would eventually negotiate my cure. I've been meaning to ask you about your knives- the ones you say were reared never to draw blood. Wonder-struck, I asked you, would you still call them knives? Now Playing: Arziyan.Delhi 6. Subscribe to: Post C...
myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com
FRISSON: From the Gutters
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2013/04/from-gutters.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Saturday, April 20, 2013. On evenings when there's a little wind around. You drag me through vagabond streets. Asking for directions to the gutters where men. Sit in close circles to gather the city's filth to. Hurl it out into the world above, to startle,. To revert the auld order and watch the world. Drenched in its own filth. On such a day, you say,. They'll come out of the gutters and stand laughing. At the stinking faces of the high-rises while their. Labels: A Poetic Fit.
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FRISSON: Day Three
http://myalterego-frisson.blogspot.com/2013/01/day-three.html
IN THE LAP OF SOLITUDE. Sunday, January 13, 2013. To see you amidst others is a torture.How. Shall I break open my mind and let you in. And make you stay for a while? Wayward, too selfish, this search for love? You said something in that disconnected gathering. And for the first time in the evening I became. Aware, aware of your laughter, aware of the deep. Knotted mound of your throat. I traced your voice. I traced my tonic. Did you notice me at all today? There was a song in my mind, I was trying to.
