User Info

Welcome Anonymous

Yesterday's Top

Rank Name

01: angeroseblue

02: Zbird

03: Missy

04: wordsmithwan...

05: fogglethorpe

06: j.alfred

07: Ilan

08: easyeverett

09: Liquid_Chaos

10: wolfinwindow

11: stillhere2008

12: TheBohemian

13: Lore

14: eccentriq

15: raw

More ...

Donations

Above and Beyond

GotPoetry is a community supported site.

Due Date: Mar 31
March Goal: 180.00
Gross Amount: 0.00
PayPal Fees: 0.00
Net Balance: 0.00
Below Goal: 180.00
Site Currency: USD

Poems - Emigration

Emigration

by Reetika Vazirani

1.
No packing list, and no money. Who can take them?
But I want the gold tasselled chaise

I lounged on those nights of havoc
speaking with you at 36, Avenue Georges Mandel,

Maria Callas, about a heart's dryness,
a loss of verve; the deeps of talent, glamour

not plumbed. Wanting Onassis even when your strewn
scales were their own fleet. Voluptuous. Rough.

I want a recording of that horrible Medea.
I mean, Maria, your impractical love for Jason.

Cravings. Radha wandering with her love for Krishna.
A cowherding girl, penniless, electric!

2.
Duvet cover, lamp, world: biography of Auden
thing was to love one's neighbor. . . . I strayed

to planes, trains, you, clothes; we aimed at a style.
Wasn't it a carapace for our fragile conversations?

I meant to call you, but I lost myself at the mall.
Friday at noon, the fine weekend, driving fast and not speaking.

Toothbrush, toothpaste, boarding pass, magazine,
and the handbag stuffed with maps.

Bruce, did I ever mail you my best greetings
from climates which hinted at something fine?

3.
We wore cigarette leg pants in melon silks
at the dress store, took our breaks

in the stock room and talked about cosmetics,
made extravagant wishes to forgo

at these religious times but I'd like a lipstick
even now: bronze mica frost with a dark brown liner.

I'll bring you some Jean Rhys. And what shade of rouge! Which red lacquer?
Tia, from the shoe store, size two petite jacket,

you come too. And you, Anisa, always window shopping
your mind; so bring your steamer trunk

as if it's old days on the Cunard,
and made bold by our emigration we wave from the rail.

4.
Late dinners at Brasa off the downtown mall
where we keep on eating mussels

and talking about the day, and did I say
I played it like a wild card?, each shell

wet on our fingers, tossed off as at the coast
where we go for the tide. Bye, sailor. See you Maria.

What's there to take with me? Maybe the beach,
collecting her wet skirts on my chaise. Hello

time and fine weather. Good morning
from passport checkpoint, the lighted coast.

Reetika Vazirani

Rate this:

<< prev | Old Masters of Poetry | next >>

"Emigration" | Login/Create an Account | 0

The comments are owned by the poster. We aren't responsible for their content.

[ Reetika Vazirani's profile | Comment? | Additional Details |

]

Added on: 18-Nov-2009 | Hits: 20 |

Full author copyright - Exclusive Right held by author.