Uncanny Valley

Buy me, here
i am by me.

Shimmering
in laminate,
neon reflections
radiate from
bonded skin.
Buy me...

i have drunk
polymer waters
to turn my
blood to wine.

Body bent
on lathe,
chipping bone
to  meet the
shape of
your dreams.

Buy me
and fill
your hole
with my
plasticity...

Buy me. Transact.
Or transform into
a pillar of salt.

Anirban Baishya (November 7th, 2018)

Umbilicus

Night is the 

name of the

color that

invites the

ghost of my

fathers.

Slowly they 

crawl, shells

covering the

echoes of

their sinister

chatter. 

The slime of

their tracks, 

written into

my bones...their 

gastropod teeth 

slicing through 

my  mothers' 

eyes.

A hole in my 

belly is all

that remains...

An aching eye

in my navel

flutters to

remind me of

the cords that

they have cut.

Anirban Baishya (November 2nd, 2018)

Snakesong

Belly to the
ground, slithering
around. A serpent
forever cursed...

Yet, longing
for the sky, the
mind's full
of song, a
melody to quench
my thirst.

The heart cannot
help, that I long
for wings, 'tho
the body is
covered
in scales.

Caught 'tween
the rose and the
thorn, a dream
of flying, 'tho
forked tongues
tell other tales.

Anirban Baishya (September 4, 2018)

Heart

Cavernous…

pulsating flesh, 

feeding, eating,

a dripping pump.

Constant

rhythm of 

ticking time.

Clock under 

the skin, 

a gash 

never filled,

till it stops.

The heart is 

an open wound.

Anirban Baishya (October 4, 2017)

Divination

My skeleton. Archive of 

my life. Each bone 

a page, 

each page 

an imprint of

every ache, every loss 

ossified.

When i Die,

you can read

my bones 

and fathom who 

I

really

was.

Anirban Baishya (July 31, 2017)

Line

Draw me a line 

and bind me  

inside. I might 

fly away.

My flesh moves, 

liquid beneath my 

skin. Stubborn, wild

and wanting…

To become,

To transcend

To disappear.

This skeleton 

is a shutter 

for my heart.

Anirban K. Baishya (12/12/2016)

Magma

Here, under the blue sky,
painted black with smoke,
The days know no mercy
and the nights are relentless.

Under the ground, the earth’s belly
smolders with anger, it’s magma bubbling
with the hatred of our bullets and bombs.

We wait. Counting eons,
counting skulls,as lava
snakes its way,to
the surface of our skins.

Eruption,
Oblivion…
Red Death.

Anirban K. Baishya (10/11/2016)