3 new poems by Anisha Kaul : “Passing Days Through Freudian Slips” “Rooting Our Displacement-a Memoir” & “The Night Will Shroud Us Away”









PASSING DAYS THROUGH FREUDIAN SLIPS  

A seemingly nonsensical murmur 
Wrapped in warm casual utterances 
At times, a passing fore lone word
Or maybe an attended chain of phrases, 
Sneaking hurriedly from hidden corners  
Gliding towards the easy audience  
Seeking refuge, dripping until late 
Dusting the heavy sack of unconscious 
So with each slip, light it grows

At other times, 
Into a puddle of jumbled letters, I drop,
Bracing embarrassment of unforeseen 
Reversals. 
            Rsalsreve.  
As in a perfect waltz, my speech
“Peel the orange and then sleep”, 
Breaks all bounds of familiarity,
Spins around, spins fast and at 
“Peel the sleep and then orange”, 
It finally halts. 
 
Shyly, I stand corrected each time 
Cursing, dear Mr Freud in undertones
For he brought my lingual distortion to 
Center stage.  
Astonishing enough. 
It never fails to perform through me. 

ROOTING OUR DISPLACEMENT – A MEMOIR 
 
Rising winds carried me to places unseen 
While none had refuge to spare or solace to shed 
As a dandelion in motion, an un-nested bird 
I kept roaming 

Reaching the landscape, which mother often talked about, 
(Now mastered in memory), winds of discomfort ease and
I descend into the whirlpool of memories 
Removing a lifetime of snow, fallen in the backyard  
Cold hands recover earth soft to touch, 
The warmth therein still feels home, crawling slowly, 
I Chinar – reclaim my Kashmir 
Nurture my wounded roots and all lost once to decay 
Tears of remote past will tend 

Likes of me uprooted from our terrains
Have wondered for ages, wandered too far
We the 
            Dis 		
                   Placed   
Are forces of nature, seeking to root our displacement



THE NIGHT WILL SHROUD US AWAY

We cancelled all wild plans
For the final family dinner
Before our town in Alaska
Hosts its annual polar night

Dining decked with delicacies
Enticed children to whiff until supper
Hot Spaghetti served with meat sauce
Potted shrimp followed by chocolate tarts

Eager clock ticked away, scented candles relaxed
The guest arrived accompanied by a Shepherd’s pie
Together we marked the hue as the sun went down
Our distant laugh rang through the unadorned hallway

Bio: Anisha Kaul (she/ her) is a poet with a Master’s in English Literature, presently living in New Delhi, India. As of now 40 of her poems have been accepted or are housed in various national and international print and online anthologies. She served in the capacity of the editor for DRC, College Magazine Pramila, University of Delhi, 2016-17 issue. Anisha has also qualified the National Eligibility Test (NET) for Assistant Professorship conducted in India. She loves to write about herself in the third person. Find her on twitter: @anishakaul9.

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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