Monday, August 31, 2009

04.15.09/Miss

04.15.09

I bite my nails
they taste like chili peppers
and fear

A dead kite dangles
from the grapevine
remnant of last October

Neighbors peel
carrot, radish, cucumber
vegetable rainbows

I have nothing to say to you,
Quiet Afternoon

Miss

Someday, I will miss fresh mangoes. Cilantro, juicy tomatoes, year round. I will miss the winter sun, the summer rain. I will miss the mountains around me, the flowers spilling over gated gardens. The scent of potatoes frying in mustard oil, the symphony of pressure cookers, pots & pans, puja bells. I will miss the slowness, the unruliness, the inclusiveness of the Nepali people. Turmeric-stained fingers, garlic-scented kitchens, tikka-stained foreheads and feet...these I will miss.

I must remember what it will be like...afterward. The reverse culture shock. I will not survive without these reminders.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Wonderland/Aasha

Wonderland

Oh Wonderland, where art thou? Land of rabbits, of imagination. Land of talking flora, mad fauna. Land of nonsense, of unbridled curiosity. Of a world inside a world inside a girl's little head. Land of Wonder, why can't I find you?

Aasha

Poems hide
beneath these rocks
on the path to our house

flowers are born
underground
we tread upon them softly

songs rest
behind our lips
waiting to kiss the dusty air
with ordinary, unexpected hope.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Thailand/Rain

Thailand

Sweating, salty, sun
I let myself go, melt in this
exotic heat
I savor these flavors, these
strange words, these beautiful
skies

I was surprised, hardly prepared
for this
glorious, pulsating place
and I am less prepared to
leave

Aah, my jaw has just unclenched
my stomach has lost its fire
I am actually breathing
inhaling, expanding, unshriveling
pretending that this won't
end.

Rain

Rain, Rain,
you've finally come!
Wash the dust, the filth, the sadness
away
(how I wish you would, Rain).

I wish there was a washing away
of the sorrow that cloaks me
I set foot on this sandy soil
afraid I will sink down
further into this earth
this earth of unending thirst

(how I wish you'd never stop, Rain).

Friday, August 7, 2009

03.10.09/03.12.09

03.10.09

Oh, these strange, quiet nights
When I am so full of hunger
For another soul to be
Just to be, nothing more
Just a soul with light to shed
On these strange, dark nights.

03.12.09

There is an earthquake in my stomach. I listen to its tremulous gurgles, my head curled down close, my knees in my dirty hair. It could be anything, damn it. A sip of water, a bite of fruit. It seems I'm just waiting to be preyed upon.

It seems the sun has fallen ill as well, casting weak, peach-colored hues in the middle of the day. I feel deserted, ugly, afraid, alone. The only sound I hear is the earthquake inside me.