person Arushi Singh, two poems

Two of my poems

ISACOUSTIC*

A passionate writer and literature enthusiast, Arushi Singh has been experimenting with free style poetry for a few years. She is from Delhi, India, and is currently studying literature at Mount Carmel College, Bangalore.  She has had her poetry published in magazines like Page and Spine, Literary Yard, One Sentence Poems, Fourth and Sycamore and others.  Her first poetry collection, Deviant: the obscenity of truth, is available on Amazon.

~*~

Whereas,

it was ten minutes since they said my mother was
“probably dead”
Whereas, we walked on bomb craters to find our way back to the
Skeleton of our home
Whereas, it was dark then, it is dark now
Whereas, the ribbons from my gaypride flag exploded in his ears
Whereas, life was lonely when you took it
Whereas, loneliness is still a heartbeat of the soul
Whereas, dreams were still dreams if you woke into them
Whereas, he…

View original post 514 more words

Bereft

A Ballad of suicide letters “When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune.”  ― Albert Camus, The First Man  I had twenty in my pocket, ten in my veins, and one in my heart. Happiness was another taste. I was an absurdist at heart. I knew nothing made sense. Nothing amounted …

person Arushi Singh, one poem

Published in isacoustic!

ISACOUSTIC*

Arushi Singh, a poet, book reviewer, and literature student from India, has poems forthcoming in Radius: Poetry from the centre to the edge and Chiron Review, and currently in The Big Windows Review, Literary Yard, Fourth and Sycamore, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cat on A Leash and others.

///

IN MEDIAS RES

Mother is what comes
Before and after my face
Father is the aftermath of break in my umbilical
Cord
Mother holds and kisses his face
The contractions are not yet bad enough
Mother smiles- two crescents, halfway up like a
hanging boat ride
Father will remember this day
Years of hard distance between them
dissipating in the wetness of one
kiss
Mother starts to crumple, my sister can see the wrinkles
On her face
Father arches his eyebrows
Mother lets out a howl like a
Wolf looking for the moonlight
Father passes out in fear
A man- too many…

View original post 88 more words

Rape

  the death of innocence

Virginal

The first time I was touched I didn’t know what it meant I knew I knew It was something wrong A storm through a broken Wind chime An old rhyme The second time I was touched I knew the word “molestation” I knew I knew The most dangerous words in the dictionary Were “uncle”, “cousin” …

Buttons

You rest your fingertip on the first button. Rest it on its lips tearing it open with a violence with a force not yet known to you the second one wilts in fear but your fingers scream unrelenting the countdown begins by the time you reach the last life has taken another meaning a car …

To the denizens of this mountain

To the denizens of this mountain, I will not ask why you fell it isn’t fair it isn’t fair to ask the flowers why they abandon hope in the absence of the sun I will not ask why you found comfort in the dark in the whispers of the voices in your head I will …

all the way

all with my eyes I lost all the way whispered the roads even my bones knelt  beside me this landscape  marred with a scale weighs in  on itself this sky  held down by its lies  carries the earth  in whispers and lies who knew    the price of dreaming  was losing my hold on reality …

#metoo #mentoo

when i was 11, i learned to survive being "touched" by my cousin, who would later say he didn't rmember doing so.  when i was 12, i told the first person i was touched. i didn't yet know the word for it. she went and told everybody that i had made out with my cousin.  …

murmur

the murmur of peace steps across the sky untouched unfazed   by the gunfire and gunfire? that is just another way to die without trying the murmur of war silent in words   and impossible to escape you carry drones on your lids so every time lift them another life slides the murmur of life …

between the boiling coffee that waits for no man      to the genie of false courtesies and lies i held on for one second   no not the second in which i stepped backwards from my mother’s room to my mother’s wishes or the second it takes to crawl out of the bed and lie   …

prozac

  I smile a little love into your eyes as I crawl into foetal position you don’t know      you think it makes me feel safe   no darling it’s the only thing keeping me whole