India

  • today I think
    of all my yesteryears
    with you ---
    but were you ever with me
    at any time at all?


     
    having no god
    I answer to none
     ... but my shadow
    what was it like
    in its previous life?

  • dark night -
    the bridge floats
    in stars
     

    bat wings -
    the night spreads
    tree by tree
     

    rain
    on the balcony...
    doodling daydreams

     

    its patterns
    in the dry reeds -
    the wind
     

    old fort -
    rose hips cover the gashes
    on its walls

    Sanjukta's work has appeared in journals such as The Heron's Nest, Sketchbook, Frogpond and, recently, Acorn. She lives in the sleepy city of Belgaum in Karnataka, India.

  • The sourness of mountain surfaces and the crunchiness of raw, plain-land breeze. The velvety strips of night, specifically encircling the toughness of a moon crater. All the world's scents that thrive on your fingertips. Ah! The ever-changing aroma of the Northern Lights, so cold and mystical, and the defined truth of summer afternoons, the stickiness of Jalebi molasses, which leave translucent patches on my palms.

    And then, I shall venture into wildflower evenings, where the "wildflowers" pose as botanical representations of the myriad hues of sunset. Over there, I shall ponder over my character. But, the character has departed, leaving me to stuff the world's fragrances into mere words.

    windowpane...
    a misty moment
    of migrating birds

  •  

    thunder rolling a joint by habit

     

    question marks the spot he fell

     

  • barefoot
    I root myself
    back again

    moonless sky
    all the stars
    disappear too

    highway
    the shadows of grass
    lean back

    autumn equinox
    the weight of thoughts
    drowns each step

    twilight song
    the everlasting ring
    of a temple bell

    moonlit sky
    the stillness of water
    in my thoughts

    a cuckoo’s song
    the aroma of rain
    in my coffee cup



  • battle of words
    we forget
    who we are

     

    fork in the road
    I leave the choice
    on the driver

     

    nocturnal visit
    the rat knows
    where the trap is

     

    rain dance
    the squirrel's dash
    to the next pole

  • wrong train
    every passing station
    my destination


    children at play
    paper birds slip through
    the open door

  • dandelion
    how far the wind rolls
    each seed

    Wales haiku journal - Spring issue 2018


  • sunrise and I the curtain

     

  • tiring day –
    i capture the whole fort
    in my camera


    mountain peak

    i find
    no moon


    sunny day —

         people busy
    chasing shadows


    between two hills

                     a cloud
             turning into night


    not spring yet

    a cockerel crows
    away my dream

  • spring predawn—
    the janitor sweeps
    the night away

    Heron's Nest Vol XX, # 2: June 2018

  • shifting house...
    mother wraps Buddha
    in my ragdoll's blanket

     

    dolphin show...
    dad tries putting a hoop
    around my nose

     

    winter pond...
    a chameleon's tail curls
    around a cloud

     

  •  

    long journey he promises two raindrops


  • my first hijab...
    a shadow 
    on the flower 

    Red Moon Anthology 2017

     

  • crack of dawn...
    the moon slides off
    a fish's fin

     

    shades of dusk...
    the darkening orange
    of birdsong

     

    dragonfly wings...
    just enough space
    for a cloud

     

  • don't slouch
    mother always yells
    when I see her
    my back straightens
    as if on remote control


     
    to become
    that shiny raindrop
    a long journey
    as I sit polishing
    each thought into a poem

  • wild bamboo
    the pencilled darkness
    shimmers in rain

     

    meditation . . .
    my self in the stillness   
    between thoughts

     

    our city stands
    on liquid shadows —
    cyclonic floods

     

    in a ward . . .
    the stark whiteness  
    of the moon

     

    low tide
    the silence of a wave 
    wets my mind

     

    Kala Ramesh is an award winning poet. Her work covering haiku, tanka, senryu, haibun and renku has appeared in leading e-zines and anthologies.

  • obituary–
    the raven's caws
    fill our silences


    tombstone...
    clearing fallen leaves
    to reveal her name


    autumn night...
    which of these stars
    is grandma?

     

    physics exam...
    cursing the apple
    that fell on Newton

     

    temple offering...
    a boy lets loose
    one of the goats

     

    doodling my boss
    on the notepad...
    office meeting

     

    coffee break—
    stirring a whirlpool
    of thoughts

     

    cheese thief...
    a purring shadow sneaks
    into my kitchen

     

  •  

    midnight train tales never cease to emerge from

     

    no clouds sky the moon in slow motion