i’ll be your vital clearing @sunrisesongs - Tumblr Blog

Amrita Chakraborty

did you migrate elsewhere? I look forward to reading your poems and come check your page every now and then and don't see anything new 😭

aw thank you for checking in on my blog!! nope, i’m still on here and on twitter @ / sentientsea, just been busy with grad school the last few years so i haven’t been sharing my creative work as regularly anymore. you can find a list of my published pieces on my website here, i usually cross-post to tumblr but sometimes do forget! anyway will try to post a bit more often here going forward <3

sunrisesongs

Amrita Chakraborty

#poets on tumblr #spilled ink #interview with the vampire #my writing #poetry #in honor of the second season of iwtv dropping.. a revised version of this <3

palistani

im noticing that for a lot of americans “free palestine” has been an ideological motto and symbol rather than them actually believing in their heart that freedom is attainable and necessary

palistani

palestinians deserve the right to be able to travel freely in our homeland. to even visit our homeland. for us to have citizenship and rights to our own country. to grow our plants. practice our religions. live without fear that our children can be kidnapped by israeli forces on their violent whims. to not have our life savings poured into building a home for our families that are torn down without real warning by israeli bulldozers. to no longer be refugees. like this is real life. this is real.

we don’t want to be reduced to a never ending slogan. we want to put down our need for resistance. to rest & to live.

sunrisesongs

Amrita Chakraborty

#poetry #spilled ink #sometimes you try to find a place for a few lines in another poem and it’s like actually. maybe it’s just a short poem #maybe in 2024 i have to be less afraid of brevity.#my writing

07/26/23

While walking back from the library, I pass a cream-colored house with a plastic lion in the front yard. The lion is very obviously fake— its face misshapen, color a dull brown, no artistic detailing at all— but it is the size of a large dog, & sits patiently at the left corner of the yard, half hidden by the bushes. Perhaps because of its size or its posture, despite the lion’s plasticity, I startle as I walk past it, my peripheral vision picking up this false predator & giving it life. As I turn to it and then away, smiling at my own mistake, I wonder if I actually mistook it for a dog, or some animal more likely to be sitting so authoritatively in the front yard of a house in queens. But the more I think on it, the less true this seems. No— for that second, for my brain & the jolt of surprise-terror-awe in my chest— the lion was as real as anything in that subdued landscape. It laid claim to my response, insinuating its own reality into mine. Misshapen & discolored & alive, it watched me walk away.

#journal #my writing #spilled ink #poets on tumblr

sunrisesongs

Amrita Chakraborty, published in Voicemail Poems.

lash

a foreigner's question goes unheard. a foreigner's question goes unheard. a foreigner questions what goes unheard. a foreigner questions where it goes. a foreigner questions where the herd goes. a foreigner, unheard, walks from question to sentence to word. a foreigner's sentence is hard, on the ears, on the tongue. a foreigner's sentence is handed up then down, is lashed to the mast, is barely discerned. a foreigner's sentence isn't a given. a foreigner's sentence serves as sieve and casket. a foreigner's word is derivative. a foreigner's word is twin. a foreigner's word is grinning, emptied, tenderized, conditioned. a foreigner's word is the slate for your syllables. a foreigner turns to be the blank. a foreigner's turn to kill what listens. a foreigner's urge to be in bed and underwritten. a foreigner's word moves from mouth to throat to belly. a foreigner moves like everything that shouldn't. a foreigner's word is weather to the foreigner's stone. a foreigner's word is blinking into the morning sun. a foreigner, you think, must be honed. a foreigner's question goes unheard. a foreigner's sentence cannot stand. a foreigner's word, erased from record, enters the field of judgment. as penance, you earn forty lashes. a foreigner understands this as a foreigner should, and opens each eye onto your unforgiven skin.

june 9th, @nosebleedclub

#my writing #loved this prompt <3

nosebleedclub

Have you been loving?

sunrisesongs

this morning, i began with loving. then i worked my way up to eating. now i am asking for the next stop on this route of liveliness. now i am peering at the map, brows furrowed in consideration & mock longing, the lint on my sleep-shirt a reminder of time. the room is dark with gray sunlight. my forearms held fast between my chest and my thighs. in the body that is not assigned, i am the act of claiming. i do not love the act itself, but there is love in this tired daily assumption. in this body that is mine.