Blog

Poetry on the Move

August 9, 2023

Blog

Review of Being Born: A Poetry Collection

February 9, 2023

Photo by Leonardo Rossatti

Novel Excerpts

Excerpt from “What Has Happened to Harry Pillai?”

January 20, 2023

Blog

Birthing Poetry

January 20, 2023

Blog

Birthing Poetry

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Introduction to my poetry collection, Being Born Book details: My first tongue is poetry. Long before the writing of stories, my initiation into the creative cosmos of writing happened…

Blog

Poetry on the Move

on

“Two days later, I reached Medellin” was the most repeated sentence in my narrative of how I’d travelled two whole days to the other side of the world for poetry….

Blog

Capturing Homes

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My first and so far only visit to Sri Lanka was in late 2009. Just a few months before, in May, the civil war that had been going on since…

Blog

In the Mornings, We Dream

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Early mornings are friendly. At least that’s been my experience. Out of all segments of time in a day, early mornings are the most open, most encouraging, the most attuned…

Poems in Magazines

World

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— for Akka Home is its own geography. Where we stood as children of stilted iguanas, Condenses in a thought, It returns to us on days aged by flagging mint,…

Poems in Magazines

Coral

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Crackling pink, a sea bird’smorning eye plunders deepdown the water cage andfinds coral beds firingpolyps to contact the sun. Vision of a wound, fromacreage of stolen incidents,an eye borne of…

Poems in Magazines

Beetles

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Let us lag behind the stolen beetles,captives of the sun, garrulous greendots, half complete in the bushbut luminous, spendthrift lightvulnerable to the night antsand our spent crawlthat stirs what is…

Poems in Magazines

Bees

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Bees froth above the surface,their ancient porridge in-made, asign they are to crack out ofstripes, pearl shut-ins, the mono-diurnal churn and flit. Two bees, or are there ten?You count, re-name,every…

Short Stories

The Code

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No one came to eat on Sundays. During the week the world was seated on the plastic chairs and the great pillar fans blew away the flies and the piles…

Poetry

Anatomies

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I’m alive to the anatomy of a starfish-weedtilting in the grass:I can’t say exactly how being alive works,how suddenly all of one’s cells collectto find a friend in the anatomies…

Short Stories

Samy Kandiah

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After the sun- just a moment ago ridiculously orange and too titillating for Samy Kandiah who was walking the town twice as he did daily except for weekends- slipped into…

Poetry

A Sequence

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I. The tumble you were pestered out of me.rose bramble, thorns and pink hornsI had saved from the grotto by the mangrovewhere the intertidal prawnswaited for you,have simplified into a…

Poetry

May I always choose you

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May I always choose youwhen my old lovers return.May I remember your nectarwhen I cannot taste it.May I grovel but knowthat your hands will come.May I hold your lighteven when…

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