Kalopsia – Delhi Poetry Slam

Kalopsia

By Mayra Rana 

KALOPSIA

The wheat shines like the sun

Its ripeness golden

It covers the earth, like thousands of golden arrows

Shot deep into the moist land

And it is beautiful.



The dead thistles and grass

Are rusty and vintage

The shade of brown, can change your mind

To know the beauty

That death too can hold.



The flowers we name bougainvillea

Smear the cluster of trees

The same way blood clots a wound under the skin

Smeared with mad desire of

Calling it beautiful too



The sheets of soft, thick plastic

Strewn over the lush grass

White, yet proven impure

And so apparent to seem

Like the clipped wings, of a beautiful child of Cupid



Children sprint their way through streets

Eager to distance themselves from boredom

Mud fills the cracks of those mischievous palms

A fine layer on hair and face of beautiful childhood

Slipping through our hands unnoticed.

Why do we say then that beauty is only inside?

After gazing at the moon and her little stars

Can you dare to say, even once

They do not appear, though scarred

Simply beautiful?

 


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