Today’s choice
Previous poems
Usha Kishore
Chant
after Ammar Aziz
At dawn and dusk, my father
becomes a chant, that flies above
the courtyard of the old house
by the river, where only the men
recite Sanskrit prayers by lamplight,
as though in a divine trance,
to Gayatri, consort of the twilight sun.
Do they glimpse the goddess
in flecks of light that fall
into the lap of darkness?
Do they mimic the timbre
of the stars that ride on
the back of the earth woman?
What prayers are these, hymns
to a goddess incarnate in a mantra,
hymns that shut out real women?
Indian born Usha Kishore is a British poet and translator, resident on the Isle of Man. Usha is widely published and has authored three collections of poetry (the latest being Immigrant , Eyewear 2018). She recently completed her PhD in Postcolonial Poetry with Edinburgh Napier University. www.ushakishore.co.uk
Note: The Gayatri mantra is a Hindu hymn chanted during twilight hours to the goddess, who personifies the mantra.
Natasha Gauthier
The tawny clutch appeared
on high-heeled evenings only,
slept in a nest of white tissue.
Romy Morreo
She only speaks to me these days
through groaning floorboards in the night
and slammed doors.
Emma Simon
No-one has seen a ghost while breast-feeding
despite the unearthly hours, the half-light
mad sing-song routines of rocking a child
back to sleep.
Kushal Poddar
The furniture covered in once
transparent now foggy sheets
craft the room a morgue, and we
identity the bodies
Erich von Hungen
And the yellow moths
like some strange throw-away
tissues used up by nature
circle the lamp hanging above.
Helen Frances
I wasn’t in, so she left me a note.
Each word a tangle of broken ends, some oddly linked
to the next with a ghost trail of ink
from her rose-gold marbled fountain pen,
a rare indulgence she’d bought herself.
Suzanne Scarfone
truth be told
part of me has lived
in this box of disquiet
for years and years
let’s see
Julia Webb
Because a woman woke up
and her head had become a flower.
Freyr Thorvaldsson
A candle eats away at air
At the same rate that we do