Day 11-- Asomiya

(a poem about a language you cannot speak, read or write but have an associaton with)

Asomiya

You are the allure of a bihu geet
the mystery of matsyagandha
you are turmeric, you are plantain plant
and I a pure virgin girl
you are the secret in the folds of this mekhala
the mad fervour of the bordoisila
you are in my ahom stole, in my ahom bag
but I can reach you only in translation
you are poetry, bihu dance and melody
hiding in the clining mist
you hug the Luit river in your fold
you kiss me, caress me fleetingly
I feel you, love you, wonder you
But I do not know you.

Day 18 ~River~

write a poem about the first face that comes into your head.

~River~ :-)

Frizzy ribbons
stream down like unruly black Rivers
A face revealed
A face concealed
The forehead cries Asomiya
and the lips take up the refrain
Kohled eyes that murder me
Kohled eyes that consecrate me
Straight-set lips that smile poetry
when they look at you
The erotic ring of silver in the nose
Pottered masks make faces in the ears
A long face, a dusky face
with the layered depths of a forest floor
with creased lines that hide
secrets which I yearn to know.