Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Our Tanda is a bird’s nest
Our homes: broken refuges
and our lives are feathers
swirling in the air.
The Moon & the Sun
hatch time so long as they wish
and flee, leaving folds,
on the lips of time.
Mirrors raise our hopes
showing ourselves
break our knuckles quietly
shatter into fragments and prick hearts.
The goats, cows, buffaloes, sheep
and hearts,
all dig out rivers of forests with desires
as kids
draw winged horses on the black of night
with their fingers
dreaming of sugary peppermints
or custard blobs.
Mothers sing a lullaby
to put the oil-lamp
embellishing the night
to sleep.
Fathers guard homes
One eye on the house
The other eye on the field
With their heads out of their windows
They turn into flaming torches.
The Ippa flowers grieve
releasing inebriety
listening to the story of our Tanda.
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