Rose & Thorn Journal - Winter 2012
Amit Parmessur hails from the city of Quatre-Bornes, Mauritius. For someone who once hated poetry, he has been published in several magazines since starting to submit his poems late in 2010. Burnt Bridge, 69 Flavors of Paranoia, Aphelion, Censored Poets, Daily Love, Clockwise Cat, Catapult to Mars, The Camel Saloon, The Scarlet Sound, Red Fez and Eunoia Review are some of the places where he has appeared. He is currently nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has recently published a book on blog entitled Lord Shiva, as well as other poems at booksonblog4.
Amit Parmessur
The Fool
You are the basket that grew extra legs,
stole my infant soul and scuttled away
into a night of unknown people, obscene noises.
You destroyed the kingdom
of my heart with the katana of another woman.
Yet, still you rule in that palace!
The simple lack of you
is more to me than any god’s presence.
I am a Sisyphus of your memories—
only dirty ones roll back to me
from your white Himalayas-like throne,
spoiling any love I may feel for others.
You split my eyelids so
that I cannot shut myself on you.
I made myself become you.
Only to know
you are not mine.
I won’t rue.
You are still my father.
The Fool
You are the basket that grew extra legs,
stole my infant soul and scuttled away
into a night of unknown people, obscene noises.
You destroyed the kingdom
of my heart with the katana of another woman.
Yet, still you rule in that palace!
The simple lack of you
is more to me than any god’s presence.
I am a Sisyphus of your memories—
only dirty ones roll back to me
from your white Himalayas-like throne,
spoiling any love I may feel for others.
You split my eyelids so
that I cannot shut myself on you.
I made myself become you.
Only to know
you are not mine.
I won’t rue.
You are still my father.
