Thursday, December 30, 2010

Stop









.
with your nonsense
and your pretentious affairs
about whatevers on your list
about how you care
.
telling everyone what you did and where
and about how you climbed mount everest
after saving orphaned ducklings
from chinese cooks with cleavers
just
.






-Jason





bulbs of water drip from the tap as I…
Q. 25. Define Trachea
A trachea
R. four benches ahead. white shirt.
is a
membranous tube with cartilaginous rings
rings of curls bend into his head
that conveys inhaled air
sigh.
from the larynx to the bronchi
straight to my heart
“PENS DOWN. PASS YOUR PAPERS AHEAD.”

I rush to scribble: 
membranous white tube with curly rings that conveys inhaled sighs from the larynx to the heart.

-Nikita















Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Juicy











I have tasted nectar-
in my dreams,

And been denied it,
when I was awake.

Is it my fault then
that I keep dreaming?





-Jason





With glee in her yellow,
bulbous eyes
Miss Emerald Pistawalla 
(M.A., English Hons.)
watches me:
a delicious prey among a herd of students
that accurately feign attention.
I alone have not Donne,
Plath or Frost.

She licks her lips
and thinks up a luscious new punishment.

-Nikita















Saturday, December 11, 2010

Glass










His words were like glass,
clear, but transparent.
He said he would come back for you,
And you wait-
holding that solid line,
Like a piece of glass,
In your hands.

Your grip grows tighter,
with each passing moment.


-Jason





Those dreams were made of stained glass
You saw through them at once
While I could only see
pretty squares
in colored shadows on the floor.
And my own
highly colored self
divided
into f|o|u|r.


-Nikita















Monday, December 6, 2010

Trouble


In keeping with the theme for this week, we decided to make some trouble.
Both our pieces are up. But we're not telling you which is which. Have a guess, won't you? :)













Words fly from our mouths
like we knew
all along
that we would meet here
this time, this place.
Like waves on sand,
we move back and forth;
our hearts desire
different things though.

Trouble is on
the tip of your tongue.
Is it a wonder then
that I refused a taste?





She tip-toed across the hallway,
Cautiously passed her parents room,
Snuck past grandma, snoring in her chair...
Then, craftily maneuvering 
the creaky stairs-
She almost reached the door when- 
CRASH!

The vase falls to the floor.

And purring at her heels is
Mommy's 'new' little angel.
Adorable, but aptly named!





























Thursday, November 25, 2010

Silk







These strands of silk
Were spun,
Especially for you…
And your meticulous,
Eight legged host
Will tuck you in tight,
Before putting you to sleep:
Come hither, come hither…






-Jason





They tied between us
a silken knot
before we circled the holy fire
seven times
and became tied for life.
Then we watched the years go by
and the knot remained, tightly tied.
Mine rose to my throat.
Yours to the stomach.
We could have undone.
We could have pulled it apart.
But we’d gotten a little too used
To the silken part.

-Nikita
 
















Monday, November 8, 2010

Crescent











The look on your face,
devouring
satisfaction or
something else,
what could I give you-
and never have myself?
Like that bar of chocolate
with the missing bite.
that you took out of me.

-Jason






You’re seeing only a sliver
forlorn and lonely in the night sky.
The moon is still whole.
It just doesn’t know it
yet.





-Nikita















Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Roof














The sheet of blue plastic,
In a corner,
On the pathway,
By the road.
When it pours
you’ll find limbs, toes,
a tail-
And patient eyes waiting
knowing
it would be over soon.

-Jason


   


Pull away my blankets
snatch my skies in one smooth move
and throw me out
roofless in the rain.
For that is the only way I shall ever taste
Again.

Water thou art
and to water 
thou shalt forevermore return.

-Nikita















Thursday, October 21, 2010

Feet






   


the marble floor
tarmac, sand and snow-
my feet have felt them all.

they carry me through
and every time i walk
these feet leave a trail-

look how far i've come.


-Jason


        


they were washed in rose water
wiped with the softest cloths
and painted with the finest designs.

the rites were performed correctly.

and then the bride
was told to step 
into a dish of colored water
and leave a bloody trail
all over her new home.

-Nikita














Friday, October 15, 2010

Red










Violet
Indigo
Blue
Green
Yellow
Orange
(and conspicuous by its absence-
staining teeth, bedsheets,
flower buds and thread)
Not the colour purple
but...

-Jason






she looked around for a sign.
fairy lights twinkled
from the sides of the street.
and endless rows
of tail lights
stretched ahead of her in lines.
both colored in the same vein.
and still they said
the most different things.
she looked around desperately
for a sign.

-Nikita