for her hips sway and fingers say what lips may from ‘75 to twenty-O-five for whom explosions have shattered the most stubborn slivers of hope fast forward to 2020 - now she crawls in the shards soaked in her own piss and blood The port of Beirut on 4/8/2020, (image from the Bangkok Post)
Author: natasha devalia
Author Poetry and Art books: ‘Tears and Grape Seeds’ 2025, ‘one touch of the rope’, 2024 and ‘Unseen Veins’, 2023
Zambian of South Asian descent, living in Thailand.
I write poetry, perform, and I’m currently an MFA (painting) student. The themes of my art whether expressed through movement, poetry, painting or as interdisciplinary forms include identity, belonging, mental health and family life.
My Warrior
Part 1 The Shake Up I was on the phone with my husband when the earthquake hit. “There’s a….” were his last words, before he dropped the phone and rushed into the stairway. People screamed. Hundreds descended towards the ground. Maher followed, barefoot, in the dark, he slid his hand along the banister for guidance. … Continue reading My Warrior
Crown of Moons
A crown of moons appear in dreams, the five of them merged as one. Around a table they sit, they speak of being, doing, of light and dark. “....all are equal in madness and in dreams,” they say. I hear: mwenye, hindiye, lao wai, gweilo, farang. Stand tall, ground your feet, my children kneel, defy … Continue reading Crown of Moons
You —
are the sweet, thick, honey that flows through me from the top of my head, between my breasts, into my hips, down to my toes. You — are the pure nectar that thrills me to bloom, for You — leave a trail; petals of affection and admiration behind my every step You — are my … Continue reading You —
At This Temple
museum of the soul, portal to heaven, vastness of blue, an oeuvre d’art, grey lines shaded in, contours of sharks, ships, orange luminescence changes the painting, flying bats enliven— a new perspective; a sliver, a twinkle, at this temple all are welcome.
The Lake
Branches lean into each other, forming an archway for us to amble through, holding hands as we do beside the still lake. Yellow leaves spin as the wind offers them a moment of weightless hope, whistling by as we do before the soft fall. We peer into each other’s eyes; into the deepest mystery of … Continue reading The Lake
Into the Light
I trip and slip through the cracks, free fall into the dark of the underworld, into the depths of past lifetimes. Gravity pulls me down and back a few hundred years, to be buried deep beneath the roots, where the air is cold and damp. And then, a feather of warmth lightly flutters over my … Continue reading Into the Light
As the knife stabs you, Our hearts bleed. As you withdrew We wondered what you need. Trust these words, From up above. Take your time, We send you love. “It’s a forced time of healing,” For you, I’ve been told. Together our hearts are beating. O, what a time to behold.
How Paradoxical…
It’s becoming more real As it comes closer and closer The virus, Both physically and from the personal stories Of those we love And their loved ones The blue waters, The green valleys How peaceful, How paradoxical They whisper, “keep calm” And they remind us, “this is the way of nature.” But the nerves are … Continue reading How Paradoxical…
Exhaling
Into the depths of despair She plunges head first Fingertips break through Not even a splash She confuses fatigue with darkness She searches for routine, for stability And just as naturally She comes up, Fingers reach for the surface A gasp of air, a lift She looks out at the view Life breathes all around … Continue reading Exhaling
Natasha Devalia 