Note from the editor: The submission of this piece appeared unique in its conception and hence is published in the photostory section. The abstraction of the poem and the images, in an invisible overlap, creates a story that can be read in a layered manner. Therefore the poems and the images are not clubbed together but kept in different blocks.
Met a Poet
He was an erotic poet,
I was a romantic one,
our meeting meant
a total transformation
of our art.
We were able share our
feelings at night,
where I could hear
the sound of his voice
declaiming poems.
We were mountains away,
our native tongues
were different in size and shape,
but we still
communicated well,
speaking through art,
a language we both learnt.
***
I kissed a man
I kissed a man
when I was going to hell,
I said why not,
perhaps down there
I will not have another chance.
***
Divine realism
Spring has come,
look at the smile of that child,
the beauty of that woman,
the strength of that man,
the wisdom of that old man,
the mystery of that fresh tale,
also perceive the melody you hear,
the air you breathe,
the love you feel,
all of it, is a divine realism.
***
A flower shaped bullet
What is this zone?
Is hope gone?
What is happening?
Are they playing?
Asked that child.
I tried to describe
What was the vibe,
Then, with his innocent smile,
He changed the whole vile.
It became a no war zone,
As a response,
A soldier dropped his gun,
the piece time had begun.
DoubleSpeak 