Deepa Agarwal Poems

Beneath the mask
my face melts
...

A forest of narcissus
she said
grew behind my house.
...

You were not unaware
of the efficacy of the grand gesture.
The triumphant entry,
a torrent of palms swirling in the air.
...

I cannot be laid to rest
like Rilke
in the earth I have chosen
for my own burial.
...

Another place of the skull
Another Golgotha
Clean neat bleached to the bare
necessities of existence
...

Summer means listless days
struggling to find breath
in the indolent rhythm of card games.
Shuffling, dealing,
...

In the tranquil square of memory
I play hopscotch
...

Naively, poetically
so many things can be said.
Unheard of things. Non existent
tongues emerge, find voice. Words
...

Cunningly,
colours will sneak past the corner of your eye
and stun it into stillness. Arch into hopeful rainbows
gleam like a palette of gems
...

Hope there always is—always should be
even
when a ship is being smashed
against the rocks. There is hope.
...