Poems by Kushal Poddar

Kushal Poddar

Period Fruits

And I bring a puny fruit
for her, miniscule but big within,
a million more in its vastness.
We peel it in a second,
eat for four days, her four days,
one fourth million small fruits
with big inside at a time.

The blood of them swells our veins
as she keeps flowing out.
Summer drones in her hair.
Light makes the strands
hay hued translucence.


The ant meanders through the maze of tiles. It crosses the white tile. Dwindles one the blue one. It loops on the white one. It has a chunk of something in its mouth. I cannot see what it has. It makes me think of the nothingness​. A big juicy chunk of it.

To Catch A Red Moon

You begin to see the world
coming off the spring.
You meet the bird who needs
one more string for its nest.

Your mom says,
Now on, you should cover your
soul with layers rest
someone penetrates it
and you conceive a poem.

Eclipse is scheduled​ today.
A rare red stain on
the dark sheet of the sky.
You stare at it. You take a pic.
Mom becomes a bird
ferrying a piece of metal
across the heavens.


Father draws the sky.
A shy pane, he draws, for my

One drop rain. Rain drop two.
The clouds
are still pregnant with the third.

The brush falls from the system
of his fingers.
The floor is blue. The floor is green.
A shy pane, he draws, again. Again.

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