seekingsaturation.blogspot.com
seeking saturation: Satellite
http://seekingsaturation.blogspot.com/2015/05/satellite.html
Monday, May 04, 2015. When you built an altar in the sky. You built a moon,. You extracted it like a tooth,. And it floated in front of my eyes. For a brief lifetime. And now you send your minions. To fetch rocks from her. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Music is their monkey. Guwahati/Vadodara, Gujarat/Assam, India. View my complete profile.
seekingsaturation.blogspot.com
seeking saturation: June 2013
http://seekingsaturation.blogspot.com/2013_06_01_archive.html
Monday, June 24, 2013. We shall weed out poetry with justice. We shall weed out justice with news. We shall fry our livers. All hail the flying spaghetti monster. I am mad, so is my head. Either you are crazy or i must be god. What did you with all the semen? Seldom serendipity suffered you. Not until she buffered you. On her ice stream. But i will still whisper. My lord's name,. The flying spaghetti god-head. You are filled with horrors. Why don't we lose our virgin teeth. And start eating landmass.
sarojaishere.blogspot.com
Saroja and her saaman: Identity change
http://sarojaishere.blogspot.com/2007/02/identity-change.html
Saroja and her saaman. Saroja is a poet who writes in English, thinks in Tamil and Hindi and loves her vadais and exaggerated facial expressions a la Saroja Devi, her namesake. Sunday, February 18, 2007. Hello, and peace. Several U-turns later, a new leaf has been turned. There is a God. And I'm getting there. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Image of the Week. Tuxedo, my love. The Autorickshawman that cried God!
mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com
Greek Birds: Red Moon
http://mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com/2010/11/red-moon.html
Thursday, November 25, 2010. Toil, for you cant find relief. In the drunk-evening songs. Your mates sing by the mejhi;. Bound yourself in knots,. As irregular migrants filter. Sweat, salt, skin:. Hold,the reins of your desire. On xewali-fragrant autumn dusks;. No point venturing out. Into the cold-blooded dwellings. Only the half-dead roam. On nights like these. Mejhi: a traditional bon-fire lit mostly during the Assamese festival of Magh Bihu in January. November 29, 2010 at 7:00 AM. New York Times Mag.
mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com
Greek Birds: Tango in Oslo
http://mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com/2011/04/tango-in-oslo.html
Saturday, April 2, 2011. Http:/ www.youtube.com/watch? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). New York Times Mag. Panos Radio South Asia. View my complete profile.
mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com
Greek Birds: Highway City Rodeo
http://mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com/2010/10/highway-city-rodeo.html
Thursday, October 28, 2010. Handle bars on the reins. Of a slow-moving jet-plane. Troggling humpledy a’times. Et serpentine s’times. All roads are marked in blue and white. And green signs,. Yet It loses its means. Mechanics with smoth-clayed faces. Kids with potty flairs. Baba in snake-skin suit (attire). Powdered chalk on the face. Love in the back-seats. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). New York Times Mag. Panos Radio South Asia. Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion and specul.
mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com
Greek Birds: March 2008
http://mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html
Wednesday, March 26, 2008. I cease to exist. The trees and rivers. The signs on the doorpost,. Those uniforms, those bamboo toy rifles. And filling personal information on a form. Captivated, suffocated,. Sushmita kashyap (20.34 hrs. 25march 08) Identities. The species has been harsh on one another- too many excesses, the ants would say. Community building. Sushmita kashyap. 25march 08. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). New York Times Mag. Panos Radio South Asia. View my complete profile.
mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com
Greek Birds: August 2009
http://mirjoriemarjorie.blogspot.com/2009_08_01_archive.html
Thursday, August 13, 2009. I wrote this just a while back as a letter to my childhood friend, an. Artist and dreamer like me, to whom a mail was long overdue. I wished. To write in prose but i was too full of myself so.For now,I rest my case;). Where do I begin? There is always so much to speak to you, to hear. From u, so many burdens to unload, so many more learnings to unlearn,. Where do I begin? If I were a poet, I would sketch you a picture with my words, my. A deep long journey,. I dont even give in...
