The Silent stand-off epidemic



By Sukanya Basu Mallik


I’m writing in ordinary wording about how I feel,
I feel inadequate, disturbing, enraging,

The definition of a ‘loner’
Sad descriptions fit me well,
Will a tight-lipped resentment, therefore, be the end?

I’m writing in ordinary wording about how I feel,

I feel wounded, paralyzed and plainly bad
Like a ‘loner’ abandoned
Left with just silence, that’s just guaranteed!

Sad descriptions like I told you to fit me well,
Therefore, a tight-lipped resentment shall be the end!



Sukanya Basu Mallik has published in India and abroad including in Reader’s Digest, Sahitya Akademi Bimonthly Journal, Lucidity Int. Poetry Journal and AIPF Int. Anthology (Austin International Poetry Festival). She received The Best Manuscript Awards for fiction & non-fiction categories at the Mumbai Literature Festival. Illustrated by Ramabhadran S., who is a 19-year-old artist based in Kerala’s Thalassery. He is a student of National Institute of Fashion Technology. 

My Grandchild after the world opens


by Lind Grant-Oyeye

She will sit where I knit, holding my grandmother
and the hope she brought with her
after the Spanish flu ended 
after cherry blossoms hid their bloom

She was the queen of yesterday,
When daring ones made their own crowns,
Called themselves hippies or dreaming flower girls
and crowns were for the deserving,
not pick pocketed by invisible roaming ones.

Today, we talk about the mundane:
Snow melting into spring
radios acting as juke boxes,
health care becoming a real patient
and patients searching for night light,
when darkness brings its face suddenly.

Today, I sit where my grandchild  will knit,
recount stories of how she spent her youthfulness
and what happened to the boys  once lived
in her neighborhood,

 After tomorrow unfurls its buds
After peace is made with the remnants of the day,
and the day finds a way to exhale.




Lind Grant-Oyeye is an award winning poet with areas of focus on social justice issues. Illustration: Ancestral Map,” by Sabiyha Prince, an anthropologist, artist, and author based in Washington, DC.  Her books and essays explore urban change and African American culture and her paintings and photo collages grapple with memory, identity, kinship and inequality. 

Funny in Scorching Sunny

by Minty

        I got stuck under the drape

        Or drape got stuck on me

         But I can make it a cape

         Of a little laughter on

         And of myself in this shape

        In an extremely serious time

That has settled in my little world’s landscape

There’s a scope, oh, ohh and ohhh a hope!!

         Of a laughable escape

           And you my dear one

         Join me for why not

A sunflower for you and one for me

        For this is where we are in

But to manifest peace from within!




Minty is the penname of Rajasthan-based poet D. Saran Prakash, who has a Master’s in Disaster Management focusing on Conflicts, Peace and Development. These poems form part of 300-plus she has written and stored. Reach out to Minty at http://mintyspinsmagic.blogspot.com/. Illustrated by VR. Ragesh , noted cartoonist from Kerala.

Three Poems


by Giuseppe Infante

Quarantine #47

A brain on fire
I don’t think 
You care
About the lesions 
That bloom like a flower
In unseen places
With the sonic force 
Of a four horse chariot
Hades & Demeter ride on 
Left to float through
Barren cites afar
Among an infertile death

Quarantine #54

I’m not sure
How many cookies
It takes to be happy 
But so far 
It’s not 7

Quarantine #66

Smoke from between my fingers
Passes in a prickled breeze
Under the laughing sun 
Things just happen in time &
I just wanna pretend its 
The beginning of a real summer 


Giuseppe Infante is poet from Brooklyn, NY and is the Managing Editor of the small press Overpass Books. He teaches Literature and College Writing at Touro College and is co-host of the genre film review podcast, Club Dreadcast. James Roper is the chief photographer of World Food, a book series from Penguin Random House, the first volume of which will be released in 2020. He lives in Lawrence, Kansas.

Mi Amante


by Roberto Chavez

My toothbrush lingers there

For months now

Untouched

Since I haven’t seen you


How I remember the day

We crossed the line,

Which we were nervous, eager, and happy to cross

By asking you if I should bring a toothbrush


After we made love, you wrote

You were happy there would be a

“Next time”


Now I long for the next time

I stay the night

And sleep in your arms again



Roberto Chavez is a poet and museum educator residing in New York City. His work has been published in Unboxed Voices Anthology: Volume One and Aphros Literary Magazine. In 2011, Roberto was the first recipient of the Kelly Herbert Writing Award at Pace University. Ralph Almeida is a multidisciplinary artist who lives and creates in Brooklyn, NY.

Talking Heads


by Cooper Lee Kidd


We are all talking heads now,

Talking heads on a screen,

Boxes that you can move around,

Manipulating them and your reality,

Wearing sweats and dress shirts,

Ironic?

Or iconic of Quarantine 2020, 

March 2020,

Spring 2020,

Rest of year 2020,

Who knows how long this will last 2020, 

But for now we remain talking heads,

Filling boxes on the screen.



Cooper Lee Kidd is a poet based in Philadelphia, PA. They are currently stuck at home but can be reached through their website www.cooperleekidd.com. Art by Bill Mazza, a visual artist using chance, duration, and accumulation to reinterpret landscape as a relationship of people to their mediated environments, through painting, performance, and community-building collaborations.

The Invisible Enemy

By Gopakumar Radhakrishnan


The new addition to our dress code – The masks,
Perhaps it is apt to our life
Already thriving under it in subtle forms

Oh Yes! For the first time
We have closely felt on
What we exhale into this world
Glad that trees won’t object its evil

Sanitizers chilled us,
Greedy hands got washed many times,
Perhaps our insane souls felt relieved a bit
in these frequent chemical washes

Lone roads, closed shops,
closed windows and doors
While the roads are open
for a throttle free drive
the barricades at points and the cops boldly reminded
That the earth is still ruled by human beings

Only few are blessed
to drive on the lone roads
and on those long lone drive
The lone masked warrior
really admired the might of the tiny invisible enemy.


Gopakumar Radhakrishnan is the author of the poetry collections Gypsy Notes, The Pagan, and Alien DNA. He is founder and managing editor of Poisesisonline and XpressPublications.com. Illustrated by VR Ragesh, noted cartoonist from Kerala.

Three Poems

by Timothy Liu

UNDER LOCKDOWN


My tarot client
on Zoom asks me

to pull a card

for his husband
he believes

is crouching

on the other side
of the door,

listening hard—


EYE FOR AN EYE


This year we decided
to file our taxes

separately,

not knowing one of us
would qualify

for the stimulus

package, spending
our coronavirus kick back

on beefcake

physique magazines
from the Fifties

at a local auction held

online, thrown back
to a time before

porn became porn—

these b/w speedo-clad
gents and boys

flexing their sexiest

poses with genitals
on occasion

penciled-in

by a previous owner
presumably dead—

this auction the result

of an estate sale
slinging buttloads

of Victorian export

china footed bowls
and soapstone statues

we don’t have room

to put on display, no,
not when we prefer by far

to spend our $1200

on something largely
kept out of view

till now—


UNDER LOCKDOWN


My husband
asks me

for a little

space—wonders

if I wouldn’t
mind taking

a stroll

around the block
while he puts

on some porn

and I say don’t
worry, I’ll be

right back—


TIMOTHY LIU‘s latest book of poems is Let It Ride (Saturnalia Books, 2019). A reader of occult esoterica, he divides his time between Manhattan and Woodstock, NY. Illustrated by Ralph Almeida, a multidisciplinary artist who lives and creates in Brooklyn, NY.

The Pisces-rian Eclipse

By KP Rasheed

മല്‍സ്യഗ്രഹണം  

ഇല്ല,പിടയില്ല ഞാനിനിമുക്കുവാ,ചൂണ്ടയ്ക്കുമാഴത്തില്‍തറഞ്ഞിരിപ്പൂ മരണം.ഒറ്റവലിക്കുയരാന്‍കുതറുംവീര്‍പ്പു ബാക്കിയെങ്കിലുംവലിക്കാതിരിക്കേണ്ട,ഞാനുയര്‍ന്നു തരാം.
വെയിലറുത്തെടുക്കുന്നുചെളിയില്‍കുമിള മാത്രമായൊടുങ്ങിയസഞ്ചാരം.അതിന്റെ തീമുനവരിഞ്ഞു കീറുന്നുവ്രണംപകുത്തോരുടലില്‍.
ആഴത്തിലുണ്ടതേ പുഴ.അതിന്നായത്തില്‍ഞാന്‍ തോല്‍പ്പിച്ചവേഗങ്ങള്‍.അല മുറിക്കുന്നിപ്പോഴുംചെകിളകള്‍, എങ്കിലുംപറിച്ചെടുത്തോളൂവേരറ്റു പോരാം ഞാന്‍.
പുഴയെന്നു കരുതിയസ്വപ്നങ്ങള്‍മണല്‍ക്കുഴിയോളംചെന്നുമുട്ടുന്നു.കരയോടു തോന്നിയകാമങ്ങള്‍അരിവാളുകൊണ്ടെന്നെഉഴിയുന്നു.
പുഴ കടന്നിട്ടെന്തിനി?അതിന്നക്കരെയുംവാ പിളര്‍ക്കുന്നുണ്ടല്ലോവലകള്‍.
വലിക്കാനറക്കേണ്ട,മുക്കുവാമരിച്ചിട്ടെത്രനാളായിഞാനെന്നോ.
………………..കെ പി റഷീദ്



No,

No more I’ll writhe, fisher

As past the line death lurks

fathoms beyond the hook

Even so, left with me

Enough gasps to rise at a pull,

Still, don’t hesitate to pull

I will let go myself to the haul  

The sun slits the wade,

 in the sludge,

Interred finally in a bubble.

Its fiery edge gauzes

 the flesh asserted by sores


That river flows lethed in deep

Beyond it are waves I trounced once

 And gills can still lesion waves  

Alright, do pluck them, I will  

Come uprooted.


The immense course of dreams  

Blind-alleyed into sandy vortices.

My lust for shore shiatsued me

With the cuisine knife. 

Why cross the river at all?

The net-mouthed shore waits

 the other side too

Don’t hesitate to pull, fisher

Dead, long since I have been!


KP Rasheed is a poet and journalist from Kerala, India. Translated from Malayalam by Udaya Krishnan. Illustrated by VR Ragesh, noted cartoonist from Kerala.




Submit to Global Poemic

India-based poet/curator VK Sreelesh and US-based poet/curator Betsy Andrews invite poets the world over to contribute to Global Poemic: Kindred Voices on the Era of COVID-19

We face an era of extremity under Covid-19. We share that as humans. Our stories differ across nation and other structures that web the human world. We can witness from where we are and share what we witness. Let’s write as one world of poets.

Guidelines:

1) Please email 1 – 5 previously unpublished poems and a brief bio to curators@globalpoemic.com, or through the blog contact form. The curators may also solicit poems from poets. Poems are accepted and published on an ongoing basis.

2) For poems in languages other than English, please provide an English translation. Both the original and the translation will be published if accepted.

3) We are looking for poems of any form that engage with this era of global pandemic. We welcome poems that recognize the multifarious, complicated, messy nature of the human condition. We do not welcome, and will not publish, poems that peddle hatred or bigotry of any kind.