 Anuja Ghimire is from Kathmandu, Nepal. She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and two little children and writes poetry. A Pushcart nominee, she has been published in several literary journals like Red River Review, Shot Glass Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Cyclamens and Swords. More poems can be found in her blog saffronandsymmetry.tumblr.com The Fissure There once lived two sisters Who loved each other a lot Prema was under Leela’s wings Leela was her world One stormy night, Leela asked Prema to lock the door “I did,” said Prema, without checking once more That's when something unseen had crept in That's how the wall had cracked Prema saw the fissure with the light of the dawn Right where Leela’s shadow began Every night, Prema fixed the wall It never seemed whole Leela saw through the paint, the fingerprints and all As if the storm brewed again to watch the shadow crawl Bohemian Inebriation Waxwings are crashing on the glass Headlong The fermented stench Is never a warning enough They pluck and pluck Pink stain spreads On the stuffed beaks and the fluffy cheeks Like Rorschach’s inkblot Even forests have open secrets Songbirds switch lanes sans signals They don’t sing when they’re high Sometimes, birds forget how to fly Waxwings are crashing on the trees Sideways Ethanol crosses the border The flattened heads Are never sobering enough They suck and suck Red stains spread Like shadows in the alley The berries in their beaks Are stuck
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 Anuja Ghimire is from Kathmandu, Nepal. She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and two little children and writes poetry. A Pushcart nominee, she has been published in several literary journals like Red River Review, Shot Glass Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Cyclamens and Swords. More poems can be found in her blog saffronandsymmetry.tumblr.com Forgiveness Ritual by Anuja Ghimire Come as an earthen pot brimming with pure milk Ready to quench the stone bull who has squatted for centuries Bring a garland of daffodils spun with your own hands Early the sparrows have left the branches and dropped the leaves Listen the vermillion should be redder than the crevices of my heart Remember the saffron should be ready to cover the holes in the air Know the forehead is cleansed for worship with dewdrops and uncreased of the past Leave the hide of your sandals; they will only crush the petals Let your uncurled toes earn the steps to the statue Hand over the basket with the offering to the ground Give only a moment of your presence in truth Leave with forgiveness in your open palms or Stay Palimpsest by Anuja Ghimire These footsteps do not leave traces The trails wash away with tears Falling from the eyes huddled over the soil On which I first crawled and softly trode Earth, you aren’t ours in equal parts These eyes are somehow less on our faces How are shrinking beings witnesses? The flash only blinds waterfalls from a higher mountain Stars, why don’t you migrate over greater sorrows? The light you bend on our wounds does not reflect Oh, clouds, your shadows are as dark as the furnace Forever, a power outage and a whimpering, dying rage Lower truths of these scabs that become the palimpsest Sun, why give us night and day? As if we will forget, this fate will change, and we will have a say |
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