An Edition of ‘Ease’ Dear Room, Today is probably the last time I meet you, before someone else who doesn’t know of your silences, tears you down. However heartbreaking it sounds but right now when I look at you, I feel you; you are living and I also know of your dying breaths. That day … Continue reading
Tag Archives: Poetry
remission – about recording, reliving and remembering
An Edition of ‘Ease’ it would be wrong to not call this a stream of consciousness because this is exactly what it was, and it was written in one day, when i felt everything. all at once. it was wonderful. i would consider this holding onto that feeling. By Tanvi Singh Tanvi Singh is a … Continue reading
‘At Ease’ with Sunlight
An Edition of ‘Ease’ An exploration of one of the simplest things that brings me ease – sunlight. An inventory of sacred moments I’ve found myself caught up in a sun ray. An attempt to reflect upon how I felt in each of these frozen instants. By Tanvi Sawant Tanvi is a nineteen year old … Continue reading
Aubade
An Edition of ‘Ease’ She dove in – a stream of Sunlight – through the open window. A dance with the curtains, a sweep across the room. Slowly, she lazed over my crumpled bed sheet, like a drowsy cat, ruffling the blue and yellow flowers on it. (The same flowers that a bee once thought … Continue reading
a summer afternoon
An Edition of ‘Ease’ april 26th, 12:56pm The sun is bright. It is a summer afternoon, and the warm rays are shining in through the window. I tried to draw the curtains shut, but the wind doesn’t allow for them to stay in place. It is a cool breeze, a soft breeze. The mesh of … Continue reading
Pressed Flowers and Honey – December 2018
For the days you need to dip your fingers into honey and let cubes of sugar melt on your tongue, for the days you need to go back to the window-sill at the third floor – where the cars don’t seem to bustle as much and your heart is steady. For the days you need … Continue reading
Waters of Lethe
Volumes and vessels. Recesses and rooms. Shallows and shadows. Mosques and minarets. Cathedrals and chambers. You’re an echo without an origin. You’re the volume of a vacant vessel. You’re the magnificence of monuments, you’re a broadway show amidst yellow city lights and a silent history amidst ruined sculptures and incomprehensible scriptures. You’re the blood on … Continue reading