Posted by: tsopr | January 11, 2010

Sunil Prakash Narayan, Indian-American Poet

Sunil Prakash Narayan’s poetry has been a long journey of self-exploration and an attempt to understand how the world is and what his family means to him. None of the poems he submits are replicas of old ones from his childhood. To go back to things such as puppy love and the sensitive perception of his surroundings would not be as satisfying as explaining his thoughts as bare as possible. He shows what he thinks; therefore his poetry speaks to people.

His published works:

1. “Kidnapped In The Woods”. Guy Writers Magazine. Volume 1; Fall? 08 issue http://www.guywritersmagazine.org/?page_id=181 

2. “Dying Inside”. The Portland Alliance. April ‘09 issue.

3. “Before Creation” – Supraterranean. Issue #13 (d. July ’09) http://www.supraterranean.com/issues/issue_013/09_7_PE_before1.html 

4. “Soldiers of God” -Supraterranean. Issue #13 (d. July ’09). http://www.supraterranean.com/issues/issue_013/09_7_PE_soldiers1.html 

5. “Before Creation”. The Portland Alliance. December ’09 issue.

6. “My Hushed Story”. The Enchanting Verses International Poetry Journal. Issue VIII (d. December ’09): http://theenchantingverses.weebly.com/issue-viii-december-2009.html 

List off Awards:

The Enchanting Verses International Poetry Journal: Editor’s Choice – II certification. Issue VIII (d. December ’09). http://theenchantingverses.weebly.com/issue-viii-december-2009.html

Our Great Loss

Even in the most quiet moment one can see the cloud inside another’s mind
It hides the thoughts which were pushed away quickly so long ago
No one remembers their youth; no one remembers why they complained
Their smiles and clean faces speak of no issues

I cannot hear the voices that jump from their hearts
I cannot see the sadness that falls to the ground
It is an unpleasant sight

My hair keeps turning grey and skin loses its moisture to stay soft
I walk with my feet sore and dry
The sheet of thin ice hurts them
It is the thread to which we stand on

Each individual has no real voice yet they speak of hope
“When will our country improve?”…. “When will we get our money?”
No one asks about the real problems
Who cares, you know?
Intelligence is not earned, it is forced

Knowledge that once was sought is now dressed up in schemes
Techniques meant to confuse and delight its victims
We all accept them and cannot say no
No one learns the way they want to

A fun tickle and then quick pain in the head
One’s eyes look everywhere and refuse to stand still
It’s a trance he entered into and the intellect falls asleep
Shove it down his throat!

Consciousness is the root of our souls and can save us from living in this
eternal illusion
No one knows this, so would it matter?
Kiss the rose petals and throw them on the ground
Look at the street and see the ice
There is nothing in this country worth looking at

Raksha

The curious man sees someone in the woods humming to himself
Trees surrounding his naked body
Without a care for the world, he laughs
His life is no one’s concern but his own

Picking the grass off the ground he’s suddenly pulled from the waist
Further into the forest, no one can hear him cry out
Eyes become sewn shut with black cotton thread
Lips burned for a few minutes with a steel rod

That small chin clasped between ash-covered fingers
He moans and writhers uncontrollably
Knives thrust into those legs in succession
One after the other, it feels like being thrown against the rocks
Daddy, where are you? I need you!

The dark man doesn’t speak but stares at something thin and smooth yet untouched
The captive’s body is tightly clasped by his thighs
Tightens as if the water is being sucked out
Small breaths then hours of screaming after the hair is ripped out all at once

The bad man doesn’t say a word
He puts a woman’s on his new wife
One pink with white frilly edges but caked with mud on the back
Little bit of rose perfume dabbed on his neck and cheeks
He smells like the well-groomed ladies coming out of church on Sunday morning

He winces and resists, but the soul hides somewhere where only god can hear him
Drinking whiskey then spitting it into the fire, the angry man cannot stand something that’s born so pure
A bottle of gin is forced down the weak man’s throat
He coughs up blood and swallows knowing his body cannot contain dignity anymore

I Cannot Tell You

I cannot say where I live for the fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been like inside the room

He came to me out of nowhere pulling my body into his truck
Inside there was a little light, though the cigarette smoke filled the space
My wrists, he wrapped tightly with tape
My eyes, he hid with sunglasses
My head, he placed a hat on top of
Words for which still stay in my mind I hear twice “Don’t say anything or you’ll get it”

I cannot say where I live for fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been like inside the room

No one could see me looking through the oily and dirty window
They walked by laughing as if life is good to them
Children who have a way to get home sat on the grass playing cards
Mothers talked in the driveway about how things have been since January 1st

I cannot say where I live for fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been like inside the room

Yet, I sat and felt my own life slip away
To help me breathe the quiet man who chatted on his car phone ripped the tape off my mouth
I tried to catch some air between my legs only to be yanked by the hair
My mouth closed and eyes shed tears for which they didn’t seem to matter to him

I cannot say where I live for fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been like inside the room

The man’s breath stunk of tuna and vodka
What did his eyes look like?
I couldn’t see……they were hidden behind black sunglasses
His scaly lips smacked when I begin to shiver
He stopped at a gas station to pick up a can of beer and Doritos
They were not for me, but for him

I cannot say where I live for fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been inside the room

He drove down the highway into the mountains where silence is often accompanied by sounds beyond my knowledge
They were echoes of warnings
The trees spoke as the wind blew through their branches
I heard them speak: “Never stop praying Johnny because God will stay by your side”

I cannot say where I live for fear of losing you
I cannot tell you what my life has been inside the room

I didn’t pray….. not that evening, the day after or any other for that matter.
God abandoned me when the man with the cigarette tucked behind his ear took me from the street

Mother’s Secret

I know what your black eyes say
They’re two little papaya seeds
Not to be tasted but shunned
Oh, so much emptiness in those little objects!

If you bring yourself to pull off your clothes
To let me caress a skin smooth and ripe
Glowing with the summer’s light
The sun pushed itself eagerly into your shrivelled body

Loving you is my heart singing an opera
It sounds like an ocean’s icy waves melting into each other
A long blanket of seaweed unnoticed by your eyes
I see the wait in your palms for they’re red bumps turned upside down

Give me your strength to feel what the Roman soldiers praise
A fire spat by the sun onto your skin
I feel too hot…like the kiln where my old self lie without breath
Bring me to your dark corner, a small spot meant for unwanted secrets

We are the Mother Goddess’s secret!
A pair of boys bound together by her embrace
Neither of us can move, it is her intent squashing our weightless bodies
Guilt is a window her lungs open its doors to inhale

I see the words, the swirl of incense smoke forms for mother
“If love is created then a mother should not stop it for she is the
embodiment of supreme love”

To Be Conquered

Alexander came to me in a dream asking for forgiveness
I ran as quick as I could, the artic wind filling my lungs
Tiny pricks of needles only to make me cough and stop every several minutes
He followed me to the end of the road, grabbing my shoulders too hard!

I fell into his arms and sobbed softly
Sounds of trees and birds are mute
Alexander asked me the question again
In Russian, I told him “No, only God can answer it!”

His pain makes him turn the world into a garden
Flowers are poking out of fields of tall grass
From lotuses to roses, all of my favorites
I am given this gift to change my heart

No, no! I can’t do this!
I ran again, though this time fell into a hole
He followed me there and held my body down
The awesome strength of a wrestler or even a god

Alexander asked me again if I could forgive him
Gasping for air I reached for those dry lips of his and sucked his breath
The sweet strawberry sitting at the back of his throat slid down mine
I breathed his joy for the first time in years, then gave it back

My arms resisting his as he took off my garments
Thighs wide and white like the Himalayas clasp my chest tightly
I shout so loud for they rub against my ribs
I am in a defeated state for which he accepts

An hour later, watching him sleep with his head on my breast
I cannot say no for this man is impossible to escape
Alexander stalks me like a tiger hungry for dinner
I look back and see complete concentration in his eyes
Almost as if the savage will hunt me again for sport

With each conquest he responds in the sweetest words I need to hear:
“You’ll always be mine. No one else knows where we are, so accept this new life of ours.
I offer my protection and heart to you, please don’t refuse it”
I see angels at night hovering above us, watching an ocean of our combined hearts pulsating
One touches my back to let me know nothing else is important but my Alexander

Copyright © 2010 Sunil Prakash Narayan

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