a long walk

Orange tree city walk (2017) by Mark Croucher

of those streets — untrodden and unknown — white
blossoms hanging in shame — i tie my knots
to a sun-bedazzled horizon — rites
of passage — grey streets, umpteenth times, (un)sought:

from the beachfront to a temple’s tempest,
there is music in every step — stone-dreams
of our bodies, long dead and alive, blessed
by the lilting lights of a silent scream.

of motorcades and urine stains — these walls
reek of years and litters that have inhaled
the bequest left by the bay’s sunken souls —
plastic pools, sodium sands, holy grails:

where all did i wander through this caffeine-
daze?— not all trees that stand are evergreen.

.
© Anmol Arora

Linking it up with dVerse, where i am hosting the Poetics prompt this week. The theme is: On Wandering & Observing

Advertisement

unsuitable

orange-tiled huts,
an embankment with an ice-cold
touch,

like the swish of air
beneath the door,
taking hold
over the ankles,
in the grip
of
a tightening resolve —

the scene of this stillness
is unsuitable
for my silver-
spooned, steel-proofed
bathroom,

adrift with
the violence of
hair-falls, slippery soaps,

and the languid heat of
a late summer’s threatening tone
in a lonely play.

.
© Anmol Arora 2018

Image source (Bathroom Windowsill by Una Sealy)
Linking it up with the Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads

***

I have been working on a new Insta handle for about 2 months now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.