December 4, 2013

Two poems by Smita Sahay

In this Moment

I pull my hair
back, stretch
to the morning smell
of a cool Saturday, play
Bad day’, hum,
smile - to no one.

I smell cinnamon, roll
brown sugar, burn
caramel, pour
cream. Beat,
fold, fluff, bake, taste – ummdelicious,
set a table for two.

I cut flowers into the vase, brush
my hair, till it ripples
like water, wear strawberry
gloss, spray
'Mediterranean' below
the neck.

I play ‘Tonight’s gonna be a good night’,
endure tick – tick – tick, before
the elevator stops, bell rings and
I graze your stubble, smell your cologne, taste your tongue,
throw myself into your arms, stay in this moment, forever.

For Marilyn Monroe

You flowed down the blue bus
into a brown puddle
below the yellow lamp post
and hung there –
beneath streetlights.
As I walked past,
my cane poked your right eye
and rippled your left.

I walked on,
head in a woolly cap,
heart wrapped in pashmina,
tottering on wobbly knees,
my cane click-clacking.
My head held your pictures
and heart heard voices –
your voices.

You flow in your white dress upon that vent
and croon ‘Diamonds’.
Now you live on buses,
on billboards,
fashion catalogues,
magazine covers;
my memories
and brown puddles.

Smita Sahay is a writer, poet, critic and translator based in Mumbai. Her short stories, poetry and book reviews have appeared in Ripples, Asia Writes, Pedestal Magazine, Celebrating India, Muse India, Cha Journal, Women’s Web and Misty Mountain Journal. She co-edits 'Veils, Halos and Shackles – International Poetry on the Abuse and Oppression of Women' with Dr. Charles Fishman. Currently, she is working on her first book of fiction.

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