A dot of a ship comes sailing

with masts held high.

The coat hanger in the wardrobe gains life and breaks free.

He has no time to discard the hanger.

He wears the coat, the hanger and all.

Her soul image in his heart, he flies up the sky

with roses in his hand.

Sushama Karnik.

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Daniele Chany

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Rafal Olbinski

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9Françoise Dhulesia, György Fülöp and 7 others

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 A window opens into infinite sky.

She rises from the rolling sea like a kiss.

The red ruby and pearls shine

bright against the blue sky and pigeons sit

and wonder in his mind if it's real or a dream.

Daniele Chany

  · 

Rafal Olbinski

All reactions:

8Françoise Dhulesia, György Fülöp and 6 others

1

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Rafal Olbinski

 In the wilderness of green a forest blooms.

A river unfolds like a carpet of blue .

From a land nowhere come damsels to swim

in the blue sky rolling in the river.

Daniele Chany

dotrnoSeps0m9g7i332af1,7c9chhM8h50g0582y5g708fc458a259 ul9 l  · 

Rafal Olbinski

 The hour of morning came and passed away. Time like a woman brooding over time, a self turned inward and watching self, , a woman standing here awhile ago, has walked over the stone walls and left no footprints behind. A strangeness spreads with the wind, now still, but active somewhere else. The mind transcends the limits and looks to see what the clear sky speaks in its silence.

 The moon, a tide of light, turns everything into a river;

the white,.. overpowers me, dazzles me with a flash,

and exposes the things that lay covered in the blanket of night.

I stand amazed with a white umbrella over my head.

It's white intensity, a scorching ice. a burning ice.

No end seems to be in sight even if I walk the whole night through this tidal wave of light.

Igrit Igrit

Françoise Dhulesia

The over-exposed style created by the use of a high key lighting in the photograph is very beautifully expressed in the poem in the use of two oxymora and anaphora that I liked: "a scortching ice", a burning ice".

And of course, the presence of the narrator, this "I", always recurrent in Sushama's poetry! How intimate!

The poem beautifully ends on the climax of the last phrase: "this tidal wave of light", that very moment when the text and the photo meet in unison, celebrating the fascinating power of light.

 Francoise on 'Sad Story Of Lives Lived'

Beyond the talent of the writer as a story teller, beyond the gift of the author as a master at description, a past master at exploring the finest connotations, Sushama not just invites us to join in the scene: she also takes us with her, and makes us be part of story, the direct witnesses of life, swinging between the past and the present, between memories of a happy time and the brutal desolation of what is left.

The text is a narrative involving the narrator, then us, its readers, the witnesses and finally the absentees:

"out there, YOU get a glimpse" here is the narrator's presence, addressing her public

"Before WE go": nice sign of a connivence between the narrator and the readers: one needs courage to go through such a scene and it's better to be together.

"And THEY left": the absentees are mentioned, their identity almost blurred or erased in their anonynity.

A very strong text.