The Secret Place

October 17, 2013 at 5:08 am (Dani Clark, Poetry)

The doors unlocked and wide now

We tiptoe, this time together,

into the secret life

Where the babes we were in the beginning,

are now, and ever shall be

wrap bands around bleeding wounds,

their own and each other’s and tenderly

where this land of crosses bears all,

is always blossoming with Spirit,\

For too the tears of joy and her inseparable sister

the abysmal knowing of time’s incessant leak toward death

Keep it evergreen,

always been.

A world without end.

– Dani Clark

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They Are Playing Cricket

October 13, 2013 at 8:09 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

at Oval Maidan

in the hot afternoon sun on Saturday

the boys are shouting and cheering

the thwack of bats on green tennis balls

groups of people in their track-suits

run along the periphery

from the taxi I’m travelling in

I look up at the graceful Art Deco buildings

standing in the shade

Palm Court Ivorine Belvedere Court

later returning by the same route at night

tired and perspiring

streetlights join my ride

quiet cars at signals…

and at the Stadium Restaurant

where I have my dinner

I can’t help thinking again

this is the same city the same Bombay

where so many bombs have gone off.

– Dominic Alapat

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