Poem: Eau de toilette

the lush lip of

a dewy petal, suede and pale,

bruises are a hazard that blares

sharply in diffuse fragrance,

crushed veins, a slowly drooping head …

shamelessly to be discarded by the eye.

the flower has more in common

with the grave beneath it

than with the feet that trod above.

one keeps running from a given,

the other knows:

there’s nowhere else to go.

Copyright © 2019 Devina Singh
Header by Lisa Fotois
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Poem: Children of Clay

Hey everybody, I’ve just uploaded my first audio recording on SoundCloud and it’s of me reading an original poem I’d written earlier this year (more info on the clip’s info). Please, do have a listen.

Safe to say I think we all cringe on hearing our own voices on recording.
Continue reading

Poem: Meaning

i read somewhere,

that your purpose is

to give your life meaning

Clever, i’d thought then

now, never a truer thing I saw

It’s all experience, hands-on

full throttle even when time

moves at a snail’s pace

It’s a real thing, to have died

and still, be breathing, limbs moving

It was/is my experience living on this edge

To know what it means

to have a freezer-burned soul

The thaw promised growth and healing

What’s good for me was not for the polar bear

Scattered around my body

are holes i dug with my

bare fingers

Like from the earth my mother came

ivy and moss flank the trellis of my ribs

to hold myself to me,

Perhaps, i realize, not so i did not fall apart

but to contain the new thing I become

each time i change

into the thing i’m supposed to be

i know what it means to

sit quietly at dawn and to

let the dew bathe me Continue reading

Eyes and ears, m’dear

Here’s my latest scratchings over at the esteemed Poet’s Blog. Check us out, there’s such diversity abound you’re sure to find something that’ll make you smile.

Poet's Corner

Hear the things,

they speak with their eyes

Words are a lair’s arsenal,

look just how lightly they step

around promises, and juggle emotions

Look within you for your truths,

see what injustice strikes you like a fist,

understand what you stand for.

The outside, of many things, is a facade

the innards, soul and belief belie this

Flesh and bone, masks and smiles

housing within a starlight light,

or void blackness

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