Malkeet Kaur resides in Mumbai, India, where she works as a teacher. Her poems have been published in various anthologies and online journals including Episteme, Barking Sycamores, Acerbic Anthology ( Against Gender Violence), Twist of Fate (Charitable Anthology),Yellow Chair Review, The Awakening of She, and The Significant Anthology. Her poems are mostly existentialist and feminist in nature.
PMS and the Clouds
I feel bloated and try to feel the bump.
The prickly hollowness is harrowing like a toe with an ugly show bite.
I want to fling things away-
Give a free reign to the silent screams
Brewing in my head with no rhyme and reason.
I want to jettison away the gathering storm in this loaded pewter,
To stain that parched brown with the swaying verdant.
Mutations
Have you ever spring cleaned a broken home?
You will be surprised
What a heartbreaking
Treasure hunt it can turn out to be;
A lone tiny ladybug red booty
A pair of abandoned toddler's school shoes
You dust them in the hope that
They will someday be claimed.
You wonder about the faces last seen.
You wonder if the feet have outgrown
and how much,
Perspiring in a paranoia
That they won't be needed or missed.
You cherish every one eyed Mickey-
Forever smiling, forever young;
Every broken limbed soft toy.
You trap the childhood with the mothballs.
Spring cleaning a shattered home
Can break more than hearts;
It breaks lives and settles forever in the bloodlines
As mutations of regrets.
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| “The Awakening” Watercolor submitted by Kim Anderson, Lafayette, IN |
PMS and the Clouds
I feel bloated and try to feel the bump.
The prickly hollowness is harrowing like a toe with an ugly show bite.
I want to fling things away-
Give a free reign to the silent screams
Brewing in my head with no rhyme and reason.
I want to jettison away the gathering storm in this loaded pewter,
To stain that parched brown with the swaying verdant.
Mutations
Have you ever spring cleaned a broken home?
You will be surprised
What a heartbreaking
Treasure hunt it can turn out to be;
A lone tiny ladybug red booty
A pair of abandoned toddler's school shoes
You dust them in the hope that
They will someday be claimed.
You wonder about the faces last seen.
You wonder if the feet have outgrown
and how much,
Perspiring in a paranoia
That they won't be needed or missed.
You cherish every one eyed Mickey-
Forever smiling, forever young;
Every broken limbed soft toy.
You trap the childhood with the mothballs.
Spring cleaning a shattered home
Can break more than hearts;
It breaks lives and settles forever in the bloodlines
As mutations of regrets.
Entropy and Will
I have lost count of the quadrupled reality
The splinters sneaking through, Unnoticeable like fine frowning lines,
Slowly wringing the splintered faces
into the tiniest wrinkles.
Yet something is unbreakable within
Something that refuses to give in,
Something defiant
Something that upholds the bigger picture in pixels
When things turn topsy turvy.
I have lost count of the quadrupled reality
The splinters sneaking through, Unnoticeable like fine frowning lines,
Slowly wringing the splintered faces
into the tiniest wrinkles.
Yet something is unbreakable within
Something that refuses to give in,
Something defiant
Something that upholds the bigger picture in pixels
When things turn topsy turvy.
~Malkeet Kaur
