Meena Alexander Poems
- Muse I was young when you came to me. Each thing rings its ...
- Cadenza I watch your hands at the keyboard Making music, one...
- Central Park, Carousel June already, it's your birth month, ...
- Night Theater Snails circle A shed where a child was born.
- Darling Coffee The periodic pleasure of small happenings is...
- Lychees Terrace deep as the sky. Stone bench where I sit and...
- For My Father, Karachi 1947 Mid-May, centipedes looped over ...
Meena Alexander (born 1951) is an internationally acclaimed poet, scholar, and writer. Born in Allahabad, India, and raised in India and Sudan, Alexander lives and works in New York City, where she is Distinguished Professor of English at Hunter College and at the CUNY Graduate Center in the PhD program in English. She is the author of numerous collections of poetry, literary memoirs, essays, and works of fiction and literary criticism.
Meena Alexander was born into a Syrian Christian family from Kerala, South India. She lived in Allahabad and Kerala until she was almost five when her father’s work—as a scientist for the Indian government—took the family to Khartoum in newly independent... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
I was young when you came to me.
Each thing rings its turn,
you sang in my ear, a slip of a thing
dressed like a convent girl--
white socks, shoes,
dark blue pinafore, white blouse.
A pencil box in hand: girl, book, tree--
those were the words you gave me.
Girl was penne, hair drawn back,
gleaming on the scalp,
the self in a mirror in a rosewood room
the sky at monsoon time, pearl slits
In cloud cover, a jagged music pours:
gash of sense, raw covenant
clasped still in a gold bound book,
pusthakam pages parted,
ink rubbed with ...