Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Happy Women’s Day?
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: March 10, 2009
Happy Women’s Day?….. I beg your pardon
Its 8th March, International Women’s Day
But she doesn’t know it.
She wakes up at 6.00 a.m,
like she has for the last 12 years,
her mental clock and love for her family helps her up.
she fills the rice into the cooker, chops up the vegetables
in the yellow light of the bulb.
The chickens [...]
Why I am a Christian
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: January 29, 2009
Why I am a Christian
A few things about Christianity greatly disturb me. One of them is the evangelically aggressive understanding of the religion. The other is the narrow interpretation, which is often sexist, racist and patriarchal.
This ‘Christian aggression’, which stems from a false sense of superiority over all other religions, is deeply painful and hurtful. [...]
Disabled Femininity
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: February 13, 2007
disfigured bodies
forsaken womanhood,
yet our wombs cry,
tears of blood,
our bellies yearns to swell,
our breasts crave to feed,
our stumpy arms long to caress,
the flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood,
but our femininity is lost among the dark sludge of your morality.
We long for love, to give it,
to feel it grow within,
our mauled bodies refuses to [...]
Come Oh slumber sweet
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: February 1, 2007
Come oh slumber sweet,
Lift me with arms of eternal dreams,
My legs ache fitted into iron clasps,
My fingers hurt clinging for control over my days,
My tomorrow wounded, slipping away, fine grains of sand.
My love abandoned,
My soul crippled like the contractures in my wasted legs.
Come oh gentle sleep,
Soothe the pain,
Coo me a soft song of balmy dreams,
Kindle [...]
Kolar is not just gold fields
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: February 1, 2007
In the heart of vast lands,
is pulsating India.
Inconsequential people among distant undulating granite hills,
Green shrub,
Stony pathways,
along which weak polio infected legs, limp,
to rehabilitate other weak, polio affected legs.
Under the blazing sun,
passing rice, mulberry and tomato fields,
meeting wizened black sun baked faces,
teeth dark with years of chewing beetle smile back at you,
drinking cup after miniature metal [...]
Hanumakshi
Posted by: lilliandcosta on: February 1, 2007
Small and frail,
Her dark face narrow and
Finely chiseled,
Perhaps weathered,
A nose ring glints,
Cheap plastic beads around her neck
Her commanding voice a cracking whip
She sits like the queen in her domain
Hanumakshi.
In bright coloured salvar kamees,
She crawls to get around,
her tiny legs wasted by polio.
But she has strong arms,
which pull her agilely up flights of steps, into auto [...]
Lillian @ Poetry
- Advertising Cloud 9The horizon in shades of green,Water tanks, blue and black,Clothes of all hues waving in the breeze.Cloud 9 advertising its services,Who would think, it would need to?But it does,Its the recession.
- Untitledoh why does my soul refuse to rest.it bounds up,against gravity,like there were thorns that pricked its underside.refusing it rest.oh my soul has a bloody breasta weary heartthat longs to rest,but somehow each night is dayin its unending search to run away.
- UntitledI stare out,As the orange-pink of sunsetFades away into silhouettes,Large dark trees, rise upAnd the cold road leads away.The breeze whips at my face,The curtains buffeted in the strong wind,Fly around uncontrollably like shreds,My heart feels the same,As it leaves sweet memories behind.Parting can never be harder.15th April 2009
- Happy Women’s Day?.......... I beg your pardonIts 8th March, International Women’s DayBut she doesn’t know it.She wakes up at 6.00 a.m,like she has for the last 12 years,her mental clock and love for her family helps her up.she fills the rice into the cooker, chops up the vegetables in the yellow light of the bulb.The chickens in their coop stir, at the first break of light.the brass pot rolls down on t […]
- Un-namedI want to writeBut wordsTremble within meThen die.I dig through my memoryFor experiencesFor verseBut all I find is gooey morass.I yearn to riseBe the bestBut the forceEludes meA phantom. There they areThe first buds of springOr is it a mirageThe sightings of a deluded soul8th February 2008
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