All posts tagged: Poetry

METAMORPHOSIS by Alexandra Krolikowska

Why chrysalis doesn’t feel pain becoming butterfly? Why snakes are fine shedding their old skin? What’s wrong with me that I am drowning in agony By trying to spread my new growing wings? How can I convince my heart that it is alright If the tightest hugs are not calming anymore? What should I tell my aching soul when it’s crying Begging me to just listen to its hopes? Where is your hand? I can’t see in the darkness I am scared, the void fills my mind I am keeping my tears behind just it’s cold Please I just wanna get home Alexandra is a multimedia conceptual artist from Ukraine (born in 1990, in Donetsk city, but because of a war conflict with Russia had to move and based in Kyiv currently) who works within the duo Krolikowski Art. Mostly she works with analog photography and video, installation, performance, and writing. Since she studied psychology and considers the human psyche the greatest source of inspiration, her focus is spinning around the therapeutic effects of art, the mechanisms of …

AMNESIA by Sachin Rana

I will let the sea recite my poems and the waves carry my words, my mouth is sealed and my eyes cannot talk. Sands of time haunt me so does the cosmic clock. I know time is relative. I look at the damp red wallin front of me, some photo frames,a broken mirror,a calendar hanging. The photo frames—have old pictures with faces,I don’t recognize, they look happy. The broken mirror—splits my reflection into two;I don’t remember the second one. The calendar—has some dates marked,I don’t remember those dates. Sachin is a 22 years old filmmaker, screenwriter, and poet from Dehradun, India. He lives in a grave with his companion Mr. Melancholia and often spends time making bouquets of dried roses, marigolds and dandelions. Photo by Johannes Beilharz


There are so many pepper beads on your platetoo much for that little tiny body to takefeel constant ticking inside your mouthfrom the tip of tongueto the damp hole of throatconstantconstantunlike worm – eaten groundbroken, gradedwe walkovercrowdedit leaves me floatingflabbergastedhooking my claws on double bso that I might forgetfear of loud voicesin strange placesgaping like woundsimpersonal shudderstreet crossings remind meof mammoth tusksI am on one sidethey on the otherwhen we meet in the middleglances will noisespiralgrowing up to the starsembracing light and dustfor usto remain ourselves Julija Kaselj (she/her) is a poet, essayist and playwright from Croatia. She’s currently studying Art History and Latin at the University of Zagreb and is especially interested in observation, introspection, philosophy, aesthetics, psychology, music and theatre. Poetry has been her primary media for some years now, and one in which she wishes to work most. She uses it to explore topics of visual thought and its reflection in pursuit of understanding. Photo by Pejac (@pejac_art)


Thousands and thousands of musings And proclamations have been made on the planet, From the beginning of the mankind. Ages have slept, butAges have also awakened the poets of the sleeping tidesAnd also,Self made people and corrugated hearts.Today the marginalized are also making their sayWhat got written is only a small reflectionof what happened.Perhaps, It is more real than the larger world.The world fits in a room today.Who knows what’s behind the tough screen.Let’s hope that each world gets understood andEveryone can make their own world inside this world. Sushant is from Nepal and an M.A. in English Literature from Jawaharlal Nehru Univeristy, New Delhi, India. He is the author of the book “The Poetic Burden and Other Poems” published by Authorspress, New Delhi, India.


is the TV’s tense click in the crispy three am cold lusting after the blankets thuds on hardwood floor as my body moves about the house hunting for confections and epiphany the neighbor’s cat on the table yawning to the smell of rotting bananas dreaming of long, yellow rats, paws chasing tails aside in silence I borrow a humble place from the universe’s expanse listen to the little the first sounds of dawn has to say until morning finds me poised sage-like, in full glory a man of truth, wisdom this house, this world my private Bodhi tree go human, go your way leave me my livelihood Maed Rill Monte is a nineteen-year-old Filipino poet. His works can be read on Anti-Heroin Chic, Feral, and Trouvaille among others. Photo: Max Ernst, Flowers of Seashells (1929)

THE LIFE I BREATHE IN by Rajnish Mishra

The life I breathe in; the ocean in three dimensions is you.Water, saline, within, without blurs my visions and dreams,day and night. The fear that I’d lose you and live without you,Day after day, year after year, eyes dry, no tears,For that’s who I know I am; frightens me, it frightens me. That question resurfaced from the depths of a dark ocean trench,the question of intense passions that make it easier to die for a cause: you.From the depths of past, it came; it hadn’t gone anywhere.My weakness that lay crouching, pounced upon its prey.At a moment of abject vulnerability. I wasn’t so weak before youCame into, happened to, me, my life. I’m now on my knees. I’ve left the guarded sophistry, my second nature;I feel like I’m begging from a person as powerless as I, to becomeThe life I breathe in, to congeal time right there, so that I don’tBreathe out the air, to stay within forever,My life, my death, my nectar, my venom,Killing me dead yet not leaving my body. Rajnish Mishra is …