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Mugu Ganesan is an emerging poet based out of Minneapolis, Minnesota. He writes poetry in English and Urdu. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Hindu, Burning House Press, and Scarlet Leaf Review. He has participated in poetry workshops at the UCLA Extension and The Loft Literary Center. Mugu’s poetry is focused on expressing the strife that comes with being human through his observations and life experiences across cultures and continents. A poet’s dilemmaThrough my prattling On matters of the heart, My conceited wont To speak of the psych, My wistful eyes Lost in a ceaseless quest, My inept trials To emote through words, You have figured That I am a poet. Blithe and chaste, You asked me nonchalantly, Can I write A sonnet or ghazal for you, Verses that extol Your grace and allure, None that can Even begin to elucidate, The ample light The Maker has filled in you! Indeed, I can Only if my heart suffers, Said I warily, Torn between truth and lie! You smiled obscurely, Walked away into the light, And I waited, Waited and waited anxiously, Until I figured That you have now left me. I then wildly Ran across this white paper, With a pen, And throes of such loneliness, Birthed a song, Let the winds carry it to you, Then turned to Blank walls, sought an answer - Should I feel Exultant for penning a song or Repentance for losing you? WitnessWords that I have frittered away - Handwritten, typed, and some spoken, Sounds that I have drowned in silence - Those discordant tones of monotony, Eyes frozen with your image inside - Defiant to thaw and melt away, The circles I ran while standing still - And all odd shapes my brash feet drew, The passive struggle to break away From this tangled web of emotions - Weaved around you and your absence, And countless hours that have slipped Through the gazillion holes you made On this tattered thin veil called life! You will find this all pretentious And express disbelief - I know. I have some witnesses to call upon, Those privy to this state of mine - The large mirror in my bathroom - Once misty eyed, and then clear, The pillow that held my face tight - Still warm and lost in muddled dreams, An empty fishbowl filled to the brim - Ever eager to have an occupant, A half intact, half charred candle wick - And the dance of its anxious flames, Those fake flowers in a crystal vase, Alternate ticking sounds from two clocks - And their zealous pursuit to seek life, Few more in each space I have been to, Who can all affirm what I wrote here - Seek them, seek me and set me free! PhoenixYou kicked open the door That was just half open, Unannounced, undevised, Let a shadow of your light, Into this space called heart, (Where I often hide myself When in doubt or when lost) Sauntered across the floor, Measured each held emotion, Examined each strewn scar, Crushed walls, built windows, Demolished those bunkers I had to fight wars within, Broke cages, cuffs, fetters, Mounted a rainbow sky, Sprang a freshwater sea, Sowed seeds for new verses, Awakened muffled dreams, Roused the soul to revolt, And unannounced, undevised, Walked out of that lone door, Unaware of the tumult You had caused... I gathered myself, again, And dragged my numb feet To that door, now all open, To vanish in the blackness Of your hair, of your eyes, Or to get pieces of me Wrapped in your footprints, Yet, a thought held me back - Is this world you left behind More tranquil than the real? An orphaned fancyAlong this nebulous path between my mind, heart and voice, a thousand scattered fancies remain unfulfilled. This time. Fraught with fiendish restrictions that defined this union - our parts, this stage, the plot and the imminent adieu. Among those orphans, I desire a stroll with you the most - through the dense streets of all my vacillations, fears and woes, our hands and fingers knit tight, our hearts brimming with such pride, as we witness the fall of each of those malefic demons at each of our steps, slayed by the rhythm of quietude. BloomJust like that
You set me free. In a snap. No scarred iron bars, No defaced walls, No tired, muted chains, No maimed locks. None of that coldness, That throbbing silence That hurt us both. No more drama No more farcical struggles. You gave me What I always wanted, Dreamed, sought after. Freedom. It’s here now In full bloom. I inhale it all - Clear blue skies, A smiling Santa-like sun, White feathered wings, An always perfect breeze, All gardens in bloom In all seasons. Yet, something’s amiss here. In this wallpaper Ready to rip anytime With one touch Of a famished hand, Like it hides A void bigger than What we carried. I make no movement. I still rationalize, Hush the vociferous heart, And explore directions. You are not around To seek answers. Standing in the middle Of infinite space, I begin to imagine Iron bars, walls... And once in bloom, These past confines, Life, a habit, Sneaks back to me.
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