we were wingless
until we knew love
our breathless breath
lifted us
into rainbows
eagle-like we soared
fearless and bold
flapping newfound wings
feathers soft as gossamer
and it was then
we understood
the lightness of being
©Neetu Malik
Where the River Ends
in its gurgling sprint
toward the sea
this river into which
I empty love’s ashes—
indeed like many others
before me—
makes no fuss
no cries of complaint
the sediments and muck
of human sorrow
are all the same
to be deposited into
wider arms
deeper depths
dispersed and dispelled
© Neetu Malik
unaware, you become
resigned to
where you find yourself
relieved there’s no rush
to hit the road again
the road will be there
it never ends
you’d rather stay awhile
make some friends
enjoy a short stop
at a wayside brewery
pulling over
you scrutinize the long list of brews
names you haven’t heard before
the bartender smiles as he explains
the dark and the pale
you’re tired of the same old stout and ale
you ask for the hoppiest he can recommend
you take a swig, a sharp tang on your tongue
tells you it’ll do
the road has a long wait
it’s going to be quite a while
before you’re ready to move
© Neetu Malik
I hear a knock at the door . . .
but no one appears
I sigh with relief
because I don’t need
an audience
when I am dressed
in my pajamas at noon
couldn’t care less
to impress
or to pretend
I’m a sophisticate
just waking up late
having exhausted
my intellect solving
climate change
or something still undefined
but to be expected
at the crack of dawn
one day in the future
if I am still alive
when all I did
was stare at my coffee
until it was cold . . .
but the relief!
Oh why must I apologize
for what I wear
or what I believe
even if someone appears
uninvited at my door?
The thought troubles–
I go inside
myself . . . feeling
like a hypocrite
disenchanted by
the force of habit
to seem nice
(c) Neetu Malik
She plants perennials
even as he predicts a drought
based on expert forecasts
long-term thinking assures
preparedness, he says,
doubtful it’s a good year
to plant
so what?
she exclaims, her hands
covered in soil
just as certain that Earth
knows better than
to rely on predictions.
© Neetu Malik
Previously published in Writers & Readers Magazine, UK.
A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
CJ has returned from war. But she has not left the war behind.
More info →A confirmed bachelor with no intentions of settling down...
More info →She thought marriage would be sex, laundry, and a mortgage.
Girl, was she wrong.
A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
Copyright ©2017 A Slice of Orange. All Rights Reserved. ~PROUDLY POWERED BY WORDPRESS ~ CREATED BY ISHYOBOY.COM