person Arushi Singh, one poem

A passionate writer and literature enthusiast, Arushi Singh has been experimenting with free style poetry for a few years. She is from Delhi, India, and is currently studying literature at Mount Carmel College, Bangalore.  She has had her poetry published in magazines like Page and Spine, Literary Yard, One Sentence Poems, Fourth and Sycamore and others.  Her first poetry collection, Deviant: the obscenity of truth, is available on Amazon.


Ode to Beautiful Men

Who smiled across the street only to be caught
Stoned in between the river
Of pot and endless love

Who stepped on doorways of corporate and industrial
Growth capital capitalism capitalisation growing in her master’s pants

Who stripped naked in wildfire and jumped with obscene lines
Trials and homosexuality

Who howled howled howled pleading officer’s belts for another

Who beaten at 5 raped at 7 stolen at 15 alcoholic at 21
And saviour at 27

Who tread the path of Ginsberg stepping on thorns
Of obscenity trials with songs of cock and endless balls

Who climb on women with a screwdriver looking for the hinges
Waiting to heal

Who covered in Bangalore loved in Delhi swam in Mumbai and
Fixed in Goa

Who loved other men to piss off an angry god to piss off the universe
As the shit hit the fan

Who beaten bruised battered breaking bones to belittle black bars
Of prison in party pants

Who drank themselves silly on the streets of Bangalore watching crazies
As crazies watched them

Who cried in America bolted from Europe broke Australia back to Asia
With anti-capitalist haze in their eyes

Who lived loved learned longed annihilated their own realities for a drop
Of ink

Who met Allen Ginsberg in an angry heaven and pled insanity





person Arushi Singh, one poem

Arushi Singh, a poet, book reviewer, and literature student from India, has poems forthcoming in Radius: Poetry from the centre to the edge and Chiron Review, and currently in The Big Windows Review, Literary Yard, Fourth and Sycamore, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cat on A Leash and others.



Mother is what comes
Before and after my           face
Father is the aftermath of break in my umbilical
Mother holds and kisses his face
The contractions are not yet bad enough
Mother smiles- two crescents, halfway up like a
hanging boat ride
Father will remember this day
Years of hard distance between them
dissipating in the wetness of one
Mother starts to crumple, my sister can see the wrinkles
On her face
Father arches his eyebrows
Mother lets out a howl like a
Wolf looking for the moonlight
Father passes out in fear
A man- too many chemicals and birth at his door
Mother screams and screams and screams till
The blood slowly abandons her bones
By the time father rises, there isn’t much to resurrect
We traded birth for life
The doctor smiles- baby in her arms
Rocked to silence like the warmth of a lamb’s skin
After the lion kisses his face
Father holds the child
A dead mother’s body tied to a memoir
Cutting the cord he lifts me

And smiles
Remembering how much I look like her last           lover