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Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre) – Warsan Shire and Ugly
Poem: “Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre)” Poet: Warsan Shire Well, I think home spat me out, the blackouts and curfews like tongue against loose tooth. God, do you know how difficult it is, to talk about the day your own city dragged you by the hair, past the old prison, past the school…
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The need to memorize
I am learning some of the most profound lessons from my son (age 7). This morning I tried on an outfit for work, I looked at our massive full length mirror, A: What does this look like? B: It looks like you. A: Do you think it is too much for work. B: Yes and…
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Renewing my faith
Currently having a dodgy relationship with my old faithful Canon PowerShot G11 after it failed to deliver on two important occasions. Today we took a walk towards Ouderkerk so that I could renew my faith. I am still skeptical, cynical. Let’s see how things go.
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Falling through the cracks
Blackened embers still burning now and then A white moon smudged In-between I built my castle on reclaimed land Dug the wet sand till its grains hurt between skin and nail Swept away the sea Pushed back the tidal waves of full moon the basalt gray Call me sturdy
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A walk through Amstel Park
“Is it summer yet?” “I think so.” “How would you know?” “Well it is that time of the year.” “What if you did not have a calendar?” “It is warm, the sky is clear, the ducks are having ducklings, the flowers are out, and the trees have leaves.” “That’s just a good day.” “When you…
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The walls of the room I am building
The Netherlands Research School of Gender Studies had their research day conference on 26th May 2014 in Amsterdam. The day was titled – Doing Gender in the Netherlands: Feminism in Transition (Activism, Institutions and Canons). I was there to present a paper: Tumbling Wall: Adrienne Rich Dismantles a Male Form. My paper spoke about the…
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And Still I Rise – Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like…
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Words and solar glares
Every word a stumbling block setup for the fall in to the endless plummet towards the bottom a bottom I never reach tumbling and tumbling pools of prepositions hills built of adjectives conjunctions swirling overhead misty mornings a sun that turns pink and purple Odorless Lavender Every word a brick movement like mortar constructions built…
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Jaipur Literature Festival: poets – Nilanjana Roy
Jaipur Literature Festival: poets (1). Jeet Thayil’s ghazal on Malayalam and Nilanjana Roy (who I think I have an academic crush on) speaks about poetry. Also on her blog are some lovely articles on Agha Shahid Ali. A must read. An excerpt I loved: “I like choosing theoretical homes, but the idea of “settling down”…
