Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Mothers Lie

Mothers never lie
except when they are five years old
and grandmother has told her

not to tell great-grandfather
(who thinks movies are wasteful)

that they have spent the afternoon
at the movies

Catching herself humming
(and at 60 she still hums)
 incubating the lie

in great-grandfather's room
she nurses her breath wild eyed

and announces willingly:
O Grandfather, we really

didn't at all 
go to the movies
this afternoon.

_

Monday, June 20, 2011

What She Said (1)

(inspired by the Kuruntokai)

Crossed, she is cross
lovers' arms are tigers
they race forest fires

they say, companions:
her community of accomplices
girlfriends, girl-friends, girls, friends

_

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Father's (Fathers' Day)

Yesterday your ears worked just fine
today your whining hearing aid died
ancient and foreign all at once
is your silence.
Now you hold my face
between your hands

and watch my mouth
speak;
then you write
your blessings
with your lips
on my forehead

Let me hear
be your child
interpret your genes,
perform your decrees
aspire: sishya as student
spiral: suta as bard

[fragment]
_

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Two Worlds Collide

One of the first things Big A did when we moved in together was get rid of the cookware I had left over from when I householded with J, my late husband. Thereafter, he convinced me to replace the car, sundry furniture, my name, and most other remnants of my previously married life. Weird, but also not weird. My mom attributes it to him being a Scorpio (possesive) and is sure the reason I empathize is because I'm a Pisces (wimp). It's a theory.

I've remained on good terms with my former in-laws though, and they've been staunch allies in most of my endeavors, and continue to call from all corners of the world on my birthday and the big Tamil festivals. MA, my sweet sister-in-law, is on a short New York visit and she wants to come spend the weekend with me.

She's coming today: a.k.a. the day Big A and I celebrate our wedding anniversary; a.k.a. awkward!


_

Friday, June 17, 2011

Child (Grades)

we tell you stories
about dreaming hard
streaming suggestions
breezes made of begging
at the doors of your mind

we have filled these teacups
with fireflies, dreams for you
each pour sits scaled precise
except for your loved figure
grinning, beginning more real

[fragment]
__
There's an unsettlingly Alanis-y irony when your spelling bee winning, "gifted," "above grade level" child who has always loved to read and reads all the time gets a D-. (In Reading no less.) 


_

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Substance; Scale

An Arab Spring
A summer of superheroes
what now of winters

hints of itinerant
nations, their
nomadic tailwinds

Losing time soon
every day hides heroes
with a million faces.

_

in the midst of life...

We heard that At's 28-year-old ex died.  I expected that everything would have stopped when I opened the eyes I shut in disbelief.  I ki...