Sense
Aditya Bahl
What si
lence the
word breaks?
Nothing
to be said.
Yet I write
to make sense
of it. I read
it out loud to
confirm it.
* * *
A hole in
stead of words
is as good
as it gets. It
fits itself.
The rose is red.
Ten times x
equals x. x
for elephant,
apple, twenty
men (as
pronouns), time (as
a wax candle).
* * *
Full
measure less
than moon.
Soon, so
Less to say
so.
Part of the moon—
Part of the word
Part of the moon
The rest of the moon—
Cut off
by the tin
ledged rise
rises.
A rise in
to the verb
—that stays.
Born and brought up in the Himalayan state of Himachal Pradesh, Aditya Bahl’s textual and visual works have appeared or are forthcoming in Lilliput Review, Otoliths, Poetry Salzburg Review, iARTistas and Haiku 21. A chapbook is available at this is visual poetry. He co-edits Bones, a journal for contemporary haiku.
