Poems by Goirick Brahmachari
Photo: Grace Campbell
By Goirick Brahmachari
1
cry
for the throat is dry
and there shall be some room for water
to roll through your nerves
before this wild, wild world melts
inside your eyes
with Damien Rice
in a cold room
where no one waits
for you
cry
wait for the rivers
to dry, for there shall be some room
for waters to roll down
your glass window pane
when rain has forgotten its name
and the nights are all pleased and high
like the mornings we have passed.
cry
for memory is a lie
2
Now every second
opens up its mouth to a wild,
suffocated space – white
like a geisha’s face,
for cold winter dreams
of earthen cups and plates
and silly flowers that rot
must spread their roots within me.
And every drag is not a new beginning.
Time eats memory.
Spits out my tongue.
I burn the world around
and wait for it to burn me in its rage,
every time I return.
3
The village of betel nut
is bitter now with hatred
that only humans can reap;
Shredded within teeth
Stains, cancer.
Yet, no one writes with anger.
4
I sail through your northern sea
Breezing in this summer rain,
Azure, unknown, soggy like my dream
Never reaching where I ought to be.
5
Losing my trust,
broken years of smoke
And vodka,
Teeth-less-truth bleeding
Tongues, gums;
Should I get a gun?
Bio:
Originally from Silchar, Assam, Goirick B’s debut collection of poems, For the Love of Pork (Les Editions du Zaporogue, Denmark) won the Muse India-Satish Verma Young Writer Award for poetry in 2016. He is also the winner of prestigious Srinivas Rayaprol Poetry Prize, 2016. His chapbook of travel notes, Joining the Dots, was published by Nivasini Publishers, Hyderabad in 2017. His third book of poems, Wet Radio and other poems, has been published recently. His poems have appeared in Berfrois, Café Dissensus, Raiot and Nether, among others.
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One Response to “Poems by Goirick Brahmachari”
I feel your poem addresses the idea of locational alienation very well and strongly with words that are lucid and effective.