Fear, Partitions and Damage-Aakriti Kuntal

Poemimage
Morning flicks her tongue around the curtain,
coffee with violets grazing
My arms, a sheath,
body velvet swimming around me, defenseless blanket

I am thrumming
as the mornings encroach my left bosom,
my dissected body shaking, blatant in its denial to sense reason

Cold and latent, ice blue, amphibian green,
icicles
f
a
l
L
from my mouth,
chunk after chunk,
my tongue strung to a second hemisphere
a constant too frigid to be forfeited now

I fold my arms, tape them to themselves,
To seize the bleed
from encircling all this fading life
This material wound
from (un)purchased dreams

I wear speech
in circles and patches, behind finicky windows
filming lavender saplings,
as my thighs grow transparent under
scattered blows of ashamed suns,
I wander in the echo of my footsteps,
and curl,
under the agony of diffused love

Fear stands,
almost fearless now
No different from the odor of my skin,
I seek its camouflage,
To anaesthetise the voracious thirst of my neonatal being

I wear fear around bunched fingers,
like ferns brown and fatal
Dissecting my yogurt eyes,
Blur,
blur,
fade the vision

I wear fear like a shield
/against/ myself
almost Like a preference
My body an occasion
of thunder
The lights continually
dripping
from my center
Harvesting
to draw this reeling sense of a fractured whole


Aakriti, aged 25, is a poetess from India. She writes because for her it is the most beautiful way to endure life. Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Tuck Magazine and Indian Periodical among others. She won the Reuel International Prize 2017 for upcoming poet.

Lotus- Aakriti Kuntal

Aakriti Lotus

Upwards,

these lips, boat-like

inundating rivers

within their pondering girth

Upwards,

this skin, cellophane treasures

collecting color from the

sky’s subservience

Upwards,

hand, mouth, body

Organs shattering in

coalescent proximity

I raise my head

to an uneven sun

Watch its cadenced portions

Clouds ablaze against

the hum of detonation

I raise my body, my skin,

my entire being

My cheeks frosting

like cream

The irregular elongation

of life’s symptoms;

a fat ellipse around

my belly

I raise my departed teeth,

my chiseled naivety,

my tapping feet

I buzz and blink,

my face a periwinkle pink

The forgotten trick of

forgetfulness

clawing at my lip

I draw my navel to the mouth

and perch like a lotus

I raise

my body,

my skin,

my entire being

I spill

white like the flashing night

And I never burn

Poem and photograph by Aakriti Kuntal


Aakriti, aged 25, is a poetess from India. She writes because for her it is the most beautiful way to endure life. Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Tuck Magazine and Indian Periodical among others. She won the Reuel International Prize 2017 for upcoming poet.

Expanse- Aakriti Kuntal

Aakriti Expanse
Sky devolves,
loose cloth,
parchment of coarse light
shifting through time
The skinny arm
of peacock trees,
goes round and round
collapsing like a skeleton
over rescued breath
Exhaling
a cold blue mist
over flakes of leftover fingers
I watch my body, hanging
Like a dusty day
over horizons
And for a minute there
I believe

that my arms are as wide as light

Poem and photograph by Aakriti Kuntal


Aakriti, aged 25, is a poetess from India. She writes because for her it is the most beautiful way to endure life. Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Tuck Magazine and Indian Periodical among others. She won the Reuel International Prize 2017 for upcoming poet.

Offering- Aakriti Kuntal

Aakriti Offering
Give me swollen hands
Brandished, perforated, silver leek of rum
My mouth is a tangy trench
it yearns for terrible things
.
Place slender bones
beneath my tongue
Let me study their dents
where the earth burned and the meteor rejoiced
between saliva and epidermal forests
Skin hanging between teeth
truth like octopus on water trees
flesh inside flesh, color flossing cloth jaws
Give me arms, that take worms like love,
that have entered the soil, its bloody wrath, its desolate entirety,
where men sleep forever, no different from lamb peel
rubber veins that have cuddled death and fallen stars,
their mass graves inside stem cells
Give me the parabolic breath of an awakened thumb,
fingers that nibble and immerse in films of milk,
outstretched and clawing, with pink flesh like powder,
where God served judgment too early,
Give me tiny deaths in my mouth,
I will lick them all
as my cheekbones slope like cement sinks
under the weight of dribbling water
Give me the color of falling light
Let me wear it on my face
the absoluteness of truth
prismatic lights, shadows and rim
Let me wear violet to red under this bleeding nose
Maybe then, you can see
The truth

that so aches to be seen

Poem and photograph by Aakriti Kuntal


Aakriti, aged 25, is a poetess from India. She writes because for her it is the most beautiful way to endure life. Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Tuck Magazine and Indian Periodical among others. She won the Reuel International Prize 2017 for upcoming poet.

Hallucination- Aakriti Kuntal

Aakriti Hallucination
Vapors, inhaled and exhaled,
your porous skin whistles
Your skin has melted my darling
and lit these oiled sinks that I call palms
Here I collect you, between my threaded selves
Weave you with a needle in my teeth
and carve you
Your incense, bourbon patches on my winter body
I cling to you
dance on your shoulders, see-saw and rhythms
I think the atmosphere is in my mouth
and I have begun to choke
So I slide into you, legs first
lungs floating in saline bowls
and disintegrate on the tip of your tongue
I think I’m all grey, my love
I think I’m all grey
and that’s never gonna change
for you are not really here
For women like me
who carry a floppy womb of fate
and tyres on our belly
The worms of destiny and sheets of uncertainty
You are not really here
You are just pink powder
in my salivating throat
Bubble and broth,
frothing and flowing down my braids

I think I want you even like this

Poem and photograph by Aakriti Kuntal


Aakriti, aged 25, is a poetess from India. She writes because for her it is the most beautiful way to endure life. Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Tuck Magazine and Indian Periodical among others. She won the Reuel International Prize 2017 for upcoming poet.

Ferment-Aakriti Kuntal

ferment3

[Poem and art by Aakriti Kuntal]

I fell in love

with a different kind of earth

Simmering

Blue and glazed yellow walls

Glimmering second coats

Life

burning

beneath my flicking tongue

I grew a cotton ball in my throat

fields in marrow and suspension in skin

Spanned my stockings and grafted my knuckles

I undertook

   in swift easy strokes

the voids in the air

and swiveled through them

A zebra, a lioness, an albatross and a hummingbird

Humming

Humming

 

I was sixteen,

tender moist bones,

tiptoeing through the corpses of history

and the

spinning frames of time.

I was sixteen

Flat, underground, gaseous existence

I had swallowed only incense

And I swelled

Daisies in my earlobe, in and around

A spiral existence

Inward and outward

Tomatoes in cubes, platters in my succulent breasts

My face, tatters, snow and landscapes

crayons and clay

I thought I could be

Everything

Blue, green or gray

I thought I could

Be

I fell in love with a different kind of earth

Pomegranate contours and bouncy lines

Unraveling

Unraveling ever so slowly

in my entwined arteries

 

And then I started to spill

Every time I sat

I started to spill

I spilled like a birthing wound

Commotion sewing into

my waistline

A watercolor trajectory

 

Furry tornadoes wheeled out

from

my back, my limbs, my neck

My shaky head

in dissonance

My shaky lip

in fermentation

I am a yeast

I am a yeast

For

I am fermenting

I am fermenting

Cotton stacks piling on my diaphragm

I fell in love

with a different kind of earth

that floats like coal quartets in my chest

Decaying

Decaying

Into an uncertainty

of longitudinal story lines


Aakriti Kuntal is a 24-year-old emerging poetess from the country of veritable colors and stratified rainbows, India. A Network Engineer by profession she has been writing for over a year now. She enjoys nature, music, all things geeky and all things art.

Aakriti writes for the Writings of Aakriti Kuntal, and her work has been published in 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree blog, Visual Verse and Indian Periodical among others.