Saturday, 20 February 2016

Poetry 2016, Second Prize, Akila Gopalakrishnan

Spectrum of C
 
Cocoa
Dusted
rusted
frayed
watermarked
bitter-
sweet
melanin

Chartreuse
Spring and autumn,
forty and hormones;
how does the sky
carry its salt and pepper?

Cerulean
This sky is a spotless mirror
in water where the poet brings
his box of pastels,
they soak my blues.

Cerise
Like pimples, born supple,
smeared with sandalwood paste and
washed with aloe vera, tulsi, neem,
what does one do with
broken dreams?

Chestnut
Cupboards, beds, baskets, trays.
They talk about Burma teak.
He works with particle boards.
Five years, ten years, fifteen, twenty…?
Water – proof?
Termite – free?
Insurance?
Is there one today
when promises return in a coffin?

Charcoal
Q: What if everything crumbles into a handful?
A: We would turn our palms into constellations.

Chalk
Have you counted syllables of stillness?
Have you sought brevity of the quiet?
Or is the distance between us scripted in infinity?

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