I hate to say it
but the mole on my nose
is only an architecture of disdain
pure contempt for Grecian looks
and ultra
violets have broken into unmusical
songs, I have a hand for blasphemy
for those in exile ( in oblivion)
but the mole gives intrepid warmth
to a less than humane heart
a heart that mocks at love
and sees in body lust
philanderer of hope, testimony
coming back to the mole, the nose itches
in radical protest against human faces
of dignity.revolt then, you reprobates
crush the sinner’s dying plea of resurrection.
the mole looks blacker, wilder and the body
warms.
Ananya S Guha has been born and brought up in Shillong, India and works in India’s National Open University, the Indira Gandhi National Open University. His poems in English have been published world wide. He also writes for newspapers and magazines/ web zines on matters ranging from society and politics to education. He holds a doctoral degree on the novels of William Golding. He edits the poetry column of The Thumb Print Magazine, and has published seven collections of poetry.
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