Taste – A Poem by Khushi Singh

My mind often wonders the Taste of everything bizarre.
Dear reader this might leave you partly repulsed and flabbergasted.
As I pen this down, I think about
The taste of misery, a half filled glass,
And the other half tasting its past or perhaps anticipating near future.
The taste of the first spring blossom, and the death
Of the last petal.

Tasting the morning dew reminiscing the last rain of drought.
Crusts of the left over Munch to the taste of last night’s
Ash in the tray. I wonder how grey and warm it must be.
Taste of victory to the last morocco war-taste of the deceased.
Taste of the red in the wine to the iron of the blood.
The violet of the rainbow to the taste of algae down the walls of a murky ditch.
Honey and almonds to the greased letter box outside home.
Taste of the gum to the taste of paper on the tip of my tongue.
It’s blank, my tongue.

From the insides of the cave to the taste of the fur,
The claws of my hands to the taste of the tiger skin.
From the piano keys to the taste of his breath,
Taste of the sound to the taste of the silence.
And now I taste numb.

Trying to swirl and meander past
Every corner of this tastefully tired mouth
I taste nothing.

The taste of nothing is like how you pronounce I don’t care, carved on your shriveled skin.
Shriveled skin reminds me of all the pieces of everything broken and so solid you have gulped down.
The towns you’ve skipped in guilt,
I want the taste of guilt, your destruction and my tongue work in sync.
I want the cadence and the lilt enveloped around my lips,
Dripping the taste of your hope and heaven,
The gates of your heavens and its gold,
The silver lining on your cloud.
I want the taste of it all.

And when I’ve had it all,
I shall devour every bit of it,

As I swallow it down,
The very taste of it, my tongue,
Now, that it no longer remains.

Khushi SinghAbout the Poet: Khushi is a young writer born and bred in New Delhi. She has a thing for reckless abandons, momos with red chutney and ghaati music. She is usually the only one laughing on her own jokes and washed her clothes with scotch bright for an entire month!

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