Three Poems by Kushal Poddar

 

The Lunar Triumph

 

The dark side of the moon

takes over my knees.

In the morning I stagger, stroll, sit

on every park bench.

 

The papers run the triumph,

the stories of human feat.

I writhe for a painless small step.

The older joggers confirm -

not until after the full moon. 

 

A small step in another gravity, 

beyond life, thoughts, forms of ending.

I whisper, remind my patellae.

 

 

After Reading Stephen King 

 

Dogs share no warmth with me.

I especially avoid our own alley

after seven in the evening.

The dog we nicknamed Kujo

rules the strays. Some nights

its maw slavers my sleep. 

 

I read. I read verses and prose

loved by a niche, but this Monday

I hook up with Fairy Tale by King.

Tuesday sinks in the book. On 

Wednesday while returning,

frightened, regretful, late from a soiree

a shadow, I feel, sniffs my trousers

rubs past fast without growling.

A moment I see the eyes,

in the next nothing. True tale, I whisper,

"Will this end a lifelong dread?

Or is it because I forgot that I am dead?"

 

 

Twilight Evolution 

 

Someone burns something,

always, in this city.

I breathe in; my lungs grow large

and heart goes petite.

 

In our balcony night arrives

wearing orange,

fresh, dishevelled, worn out

before the beginning.

 

By the street, on the pavement

an ironing man

heats up his mettle

on an old-fashioned coal stove. 

 

Here we evolve and we standstill.

Your shadow crosses the meadow

stripped-bare between the concrete. 

I breathe in.

 

My throat reminds me of my mother

struggling to end her life.

 

Kushal Poddar - The author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' has eight books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe. 

Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe