Thick burgundy liquid stains the floor
and it spreads like the tentacles of an octopus,
bitter-sweet memories reach in every direction
with my heart at the center;
it lies
Open–
Drumming against the cherry wood
Beat, beat, beating.
A new song
Bleeds out;
it pulses
Crisp
Breaths of Possibility.
Can you hear it knocking?
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
“I want to be a lawyer,” (so I’m going to argue with you about everything,) Yeah? “like what makes a poem a poem?” Anything “Yeah
Without boundaries, it exists swirling existing in the air around you, never within light and kind warming you from the outside in. Wrapping its arms
I.
Minutes
into that first class –
two and a half full
decades since she’s done
anything like this –
she has to admit
there is a kind of poetry:
the manipulation of numbers,
a focused search
for the pattern
that will represent it
all.