ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Sneha Subramanian Kanta is a GREAT scholarship awardee, and has earned a second postgraduate degree in literature from England. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared in Quiddity, In/Words magazine, Bombus Press and elsewhere. She is the founding editor of Parentheses Journal and author of the micro-chapbook Synecdoche (The Poetry Annals, UK).
Poets Resist
Edited by Rachel Bunting
April 9, 2018
Edited by Rachel Bunting
April 9, 2018
Essay on Leaving
Light slips away. There is always someone who breaks the news. Someone warms milk for a crying child. Someone carries language in their bones as the years of being exposed to sunlight. Someone locks names of spices in their mouth. Then there are those who die with quivering lips, trying to utter the name of a god. Someone weeps for the darkness of this world as she births a baby. Hands prepare for a blackout, pray a bomb does not fall somewhere close. Night charcoals the land. The mouths of children are being stuffed with dreams in their eyes. A division takes place but does not happen. The land is whole but people flee, try to cross a sea. Someone arrives with a stack of crumpled paper tickets for the last train. A family runs out with bare hands, then fall on the ground one by one. Land is half hate, half blood. We are as brave as the number of people alive in our family, without the surrender of helpless eyes. Someone must be left behind because of a broken limb, or carried as far as the shoulder may dodge a bullet. Someone picks fallen flowers, smells the holiness in their small bodies. Wear white so you are identifiable, they say. White, the color of elegy. The men in rescue helicopters see bodies appear like pods of garlic walking under the moon.
Poets Resist is published by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
All contents © the author.
