Daily Archives: July 15, 2016

What is there to write? by Debasis Mukhopadhyay

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

A zebra.

I want to write a zebra.

An array of upturned coffins keeling over an indigo road leads me to the border.
Maybe I should try to write a spine.

Quieted in that spine like melancholia, the sunrays still keep glinting. Cobwebs hover over the kingdoms of killings.

Sunshine yes.

But I would probably keep sunshine aside and thousands of its likelihoods, thinking of the ripples of weapons murmuring like a saline breeze around our best immediate interest.

Fingers, perhaps, growing sunflowers?

Fingers, not bloodied, smudging the pastel until a hallo appears lodged in the hollow songs freshly hatched out of the muskets.

Fingers wrap us in a musical of red poppies glimmering in the sun beneath the water with myriad skulls weighing down the long drowned boats.

The sea is known to be turbulent at times. Think of the firmament?

Yes, firmament! From under those naked skins it keeps…

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‘menos tu vientre’ by Debasis Mukhopadhyay

‘menos tu vientre’ by Debasis Mukhopadhyay

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

(after Miguel Hernandez)

that the borders of our memories are (always) shifting : Yeats

she knows


just said

footfalls & wings

been broken kind

always undoing the hasp

tugging endless


that’d played & honeyed

loft sorrows

of silk

laid over blue nails




borne away

in a scant light

rosewood beads

around the neck

around nothing


the tang of longing

she knows

nest hollowed out

and nails hammered into

the hatchlings

always blind & naked

what a moist evening

branches beneath



always lopsided roads

tossed to

her incised map

to terraform




blinds & baffles

and her

bath bubbles narrate satin in life

over the crust of bleeding

marauder in her womb

stars’ egress

sultry blubber

& biography

cracking up

she knows

brambles that hide her eyes

hide the sea in a fold

such old words



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Ashamed to be white


The following poem was published on the webzine, ‘I Am Not A Silent Poet’ on 11th July 2016.

According to mappingpoliceviolence.org, ‘Police killed more than 100 unarmed black people in 2015.’ And ‘Unarmed black people were killed at 5x the rate of unarmed whites in 2015.’

Forty years ago Bob Dylan was singing (in ‘Hurricane’) about a black man, Rubin Carter, sentenced for murder by an all-white jury: ‘How can the life of such a man/ be in the palm of some fool’s hand?/ To see him obviously framed/ couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed/ to live in a land where justice is a game.’   What’s changed?

black lives matterIs his life worth more

Ashamed to be white


(in memory of Alton Sterling of Baton Rouge, Louisiana

and  Philandro Castile of St.Paul, Minnesota,

murdered by white police officers.)

‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.’   John Donne



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