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Poetry

I wrote my first poem in 6th grade 'Paradise Rose' in honor of my grandfather who lived in India. This was around 1976.

It wasn't until 1991, that I seriously started to explore this medium of self expression. I was captivated by the ability to scribe thoughts via a lyrical language, so simple, so potent. I had experimented a bit with bauhaus styled concrete poetry and typography while at RISD in the mid-1980's, but only in late 1998 did I gravitate towards this medium with sincere fervor.

I have over 300 pages of poetry written since 1991. These range from 4 lines to 12 pages of verbal orchestrations of imaginations realized and shared. Now I also have a series of essays. It's simply a question of time as to when I can compile all these writings together into a form to share with you all. If you have ideas on a publisher, please let me know :)

Some are true to poetic form, others are pure emotion flowing from within me directly to the computer...sometimes I can't believe how quickly my fingers are able to capture the speed of the lines spilling forth from my mind.

Other pieces are handwritten, often with an equally hasty speed, trying to keep in synch with the flood of words so as not to miss capturing the flow of meaning as it pours forth from heart /mind/ spirit to pen... This is usually after a relaxing meal as I'm sipping some coffee... a sort of pause in life as experienced on a late afternoon of tender contemplation. ---April 8, 2004 (notes)

Evenings Slumber
.
The knotted rope of ancient times
Made for the cot she had for all times
.
The cotton web billowed above
To ensure safety from the hearty buzz
.
The clarity of the indigo skies
Marred only by the pageantry of the flies
.
Peacefully her silhouetted shoulders rose
As gentle lashes slumbered near her weathered nose
.
Her titanium hair of more than 90 years
Loosely braided, yet neatly tucked behind her ears
.
A wisp of a breeze was barely there
To quench the liquid heat so many feared
.
The textured caverns of her patterened hands
Remaining as silken as a newborn's hands
.
Her defining plutonium demeanor
Sought out the coolness of an evening's slumber
.
The offspring of her offspring's offspring
Graced the home that was known to all
.
The early dew of pre-dawn's morn
Kissed the cemented mosaic of textured walls
.
There's a slight motion from within
One of the family has already arisen
.
The dance of the rambunctious crickets
fades away into the silence of the emerging mist
.
Tomorrow's duties would soon again be upon her
As she slept, the matriarch of the ancestral home
.

Poem by Kavita Bali. Written on October 31, 2000.

In October 2000, having heard that her grandmother, the last surviving grandparent she had left, was ill, Kavita's inability to go to India caused for the creation of this piece. One week later, on October 31, 2000, Jhaiji passed away, leaving behind an emotional void and an even stronger desire to connect with her Indian heritage.

This poem was part of a gallery exhibit at CBSMarket Watch's SF Headquarters in July 2001. The poem accompanied a series of B&W photographs taken of Jhaiji in Northern India.

See the Grandmother Series of Photographs which reveal the woman behind the inspiration for this poem.

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This poem has previously been published by the Northern India Patrika, and theSALA.com eZine dealing with South Asian Art & Literature.

For reprint permission of this poem, please contact kavita@urbanpeacock.com

 

 

 

 

 

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