Aparna Eswaran
Aparna Eswaran Poems
The wheels of the windmill
try and make a revolution,
but half way through, at its pinnacle,
it retreats retracing its path.
...
Yes we had made love,
and perhaps became one
for a fragment
of those splintered orgasms,
...
Sediments of uncertain feelings
of you
incubated inside me sterile
and broke out in violent rashes
...
You plundered my soul, gagged me into silence,
You drew lines and asked me to stay within,
My skin was never fair enough, my eyes not big
My history was an exotic song
...
The Best Poem Of Aparna Eswaran
Violence Of Time
The wheels of the windmill
try and make a revolution,
but half way through, at its pinnacle,
it retreats retracing its path.
The violence of this time refuses to pass,
and it stays hard, staring from the vacant eyes
of half baked durga idols,
bleeding crimson traces
of falling gulmohar blooms,
flaming and red in indelible suffering.
On lonely autumn evenings,
the mind follows faces,
moving in waves, looking for digressions,
as the fixity of your memory blurs
the world into stoic stillbirths
of such insufferable silence.
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4/23/2024 5:39:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
