[ultimate_heading main_heading=”Poems by Prachi Rathore – Issue.XXXI : August 2017 ” main_heading_color=”#1e73be” sub_heading_color=”#8224e3″ spacer=”line_with_icon” spacer_position=”bottom” line_style=”dotted” line_height=”1″ line_color=”#1e73be” icon_type=”custom” icon_img=”id^48|url^http://ashvamegh.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Ashvamegh-ICO.jpg|caption^null|alt^Ashvamegh Journal Icon|title^Ashvamegh ICO|description^null” img_width=”48″ main_heading_style=”font-weight:bold;” main_heading_font_size=”desktop:34px;” line_width=”3″ margin_design_tab_text=””]new but old…[/ultimate_heading]

Prachi Rathore is a twenty-one-year-old engineering student from Bhopal (India). She’s a full-time dreamer, whose world comprising of all the minuscule realities and stupendous envisions lies in the abyss of her head. Her passion for reading encourages her to drain amok emotions in the form of poetry and stories.

Her works have been published in international journals including Taj Mahal Review and Indus Woman Writing.

She often states her thoughts at her blog Labyrinthine Dreams (yesmadreamer.blogspot.com). Painting landscapes and macro photography are her amusements.

In future, she would love to possess the knowledge of myriad books, tell stories to children and help making this world a happier abode

 

 

Impetus

Magnetized by solitude and struck by grief

Adorned by failure, I repulse from life’s reef

 

Dreams shattered; desires survive…

Travelling through the desert of pain, into the oasis of thoughts I dive

 

I ramble over the filaments of love and view the forthcoming clear

In this land, I feel not alone when a little soul smiles near

 

Prevails silence palpitating within word’s foam

My son sits at the edge of my bed and asks me to recite a poem

 

I return the packet of death and instead decide to fight

Reciting words’ loud in the baby’s ear, I pick up my pen and I write…

 

 

Nudity

I stand still

With glittering eyes

Rallying the lustrous truth of a pyre I rip all robes of the pseudo

And unfurl the purdah of my past

You can now lock your gaze

O’er this slippery waist

To read the manuscript of my slime dreams

I open the cork of my navel

So that every existing secret

Like cold effervescence escapes out to you

 

My bosoms accrue affection

And my heart, unrestrained like a soul, flies

Before you, in the moonlight

I pose nude on the hill

To love you with all I have, sans disguise…

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