Author: Prena subba
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A world alone
i could never live in any of the worlds offered to me; the patrimonial word of my family, the world of my friends, the world of my own people and politics and prosperity. i could never belong to anywhere—even on the wasteland in between my very longings and nostalgia. i had to fabricate a world…
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Little Big Things
the meaningless of life haunts me even as i am half awake, brushing my teeth or running to attend a lecture i will half remember. it haunts me as i think about the languages i cannot speak, lovers i cannot touch and the people i cannot love. but then some morning when i starve myself,…
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Longing for a Home
i miss home, but then i am not sure if i am missing a place or a feeling. because the last time i went home, slept in my childhood bed and ate from my mother’s plate—i still missed home. perhaps, the home that i can now only visit in between the seconds of longings and…
Prena Poetry 