Poet : Avrina Prabala Joslin
08.07.2024

in the woods by A WRETCHED TREE. Good morning to all my mothers.
i swear it’s me. not the tree. make poetry made by machine.
since a year or so, i am machine. there’s a junkyard to my brokenness.
age setting in a pen’s mouth. speaking in neural networks of faith. a winking computer chained me to the desk. catcall
your portal before it does you. hello, you sexy beast, waiting to take me. mummy said my paper comes from trees
daddy said the furniture too comes from trees. even at 11, the computer was my best friend.
B E A N S T A L K we called it for that was its name. you and me, around the world in 80 days. daddy says i will surely ruin my sight ::: he cannot see what i see. I A M A C O N T E N T J U N K I E .
sleeping on the phone of my palm. waking on the palm of my phone.
on sleepless nights my laptop and i. how sad will i be if my phone dies? what will it cost me? since i left home,
i clutch my phone harder.
taped to the insides of my feet. salvation can never come this way they say attention nailed to a cross
of intersecting timelines, in ab sentia in memorium fill my husk even in church
my eye on a phone ::: doesn’t have to be mine ::: not necessarily ::: an impressionable thing
I F G O D C A M E E V E R Y N I G H T T O S I N G T O M E .
HALLELUJAH TO THE MANY WAYS
WE REVERT THE GAZE
THESE MACHINES
SAY GRACE
don’t go printing everything from the internet mummy tells me. who are you? interface asks me. even my fleshfriends cannot identify my fingerprint lest, our combined footprint you know so much about me? you’re my safe place, never spill
my secrets encrypted, password protected.
I M E E T Y O U E V E R Y D A Y F I R S T T H I N G I N T H E M O R N I N G
all around us languages unbeknownst to us growing
thrown into lava of the deep end. Amma, is moksha and singularity one and the same thing? wicked striving each day i must charter a course further into the depths of my immense :::
my daddy says keep going as if i’ll never reach. walking in the same footsteps, our generations slaving at the mercy of a truth still arriving.
Amma, if everything is a manifestation of the self, am i a warring machine? parts of the world still hidden from the internet ::: a curse of a dream.
- my phone finds it too hot, needs to cool down ::: who am i?
- phone is forgotten in a cab. all efforts are made to find it. you reach inside your pocket to your ghost phone to call someone about your phone. really, at this point, it must be sewn in ::: how lonely am i?
- phone is locked in another room so you can get work done. it’s a part of your face, dissatisfied sigh, a general emptiness by your right eye ::: is this what you don’t want to see?
- no mirror reflects me ::: i do not see the same face in anything.
fleshfriend too bought a new face, a new device, a rice cooker always overflowing rice. spoken quietly, i guess i want you to make my life easy.
from a spade to a key in less than a generation machine still wound to slave a master in disguise speaking sweet things.
smoking my pulse into your newer N E W W O R L D S i refuse to believe everything was made to extract me.
consume faces in a sea of more faces, my anonymity leaving breadcrumbs all around the world, you can catch me. must I really break my machine?
T A K E M E A S I A M. A N U N F O R M E D T H I N G M A R K E D B Y A S P I R A T I O N B O U N D B Y T R E A C H E R O U S G R I E F O F S E R V I T U D E L I V E S E V E R Y T H I N G I N T H E M I R R O R A S O U L S U C K I N G H I E R A R C H Y
M A C H I N E Y O U R R U L E S 4 L I B E R A T I O N N O T M I N E.
in fire, we don’t burn the same.
எங்கே?
–அவ்ரீனா
நேசத்தின் மடியில்
உடல் மடிந்து
கரங்கள் நீண்டு
இரு கண்களும்
ஒரே இடத்தை
நோக்கி பார்க்கும்
ஏக்கமில்லா ஐக்கியத்தை
நீ விரும்பவில்லையா?
அதனால் தான் வெகு தூரம் சென்று
விலகி நின்றாயா?
வேற்று மொழியில்
வேற்றுமையின் வார்த்தைகளை
கேட்க சென்றாயா?
புத்தகத்தில் பக்கங்கள் பத்தாது
எனினும் கற்ப்பனையின் மண் வேறு.
பனி விழுந்து பூக்கள் சாகும் இடத்தில்
பாதம் நட முயன்றாயா?
அடையாள அட்டையின் பின்னே
உன் அம்மாவின் பெயர்
உன் அப்பாவின் பெயர்
வீட்டுக்கு கடிதாசி எழுதும்போது
முகவரியை துலைத்த இடத்தில்
தேடி பார்ப்பாயா?
அன்னிய தேசத்தில்
புண்ணியம் பஞ்சம்.
புரிந்தவுடன், வந்த
பாதையில் பின் திரும்பியபடி
இரண்டு மனிதர்களாய்
பிரிந்து, உனக்கு இந்த திசை
உனக்கு அந்த திசை என்று
உன்னிடத்திலிருந்து
வழிமாறிப்போனாயா?
தொலைவில் ஊளையிடும் ஓனாய்
நீ தானா?
நேசத்தின் மடியில்
உடல் மடிந்து
கரங்கள் நீண்டு
இரு கண்களும்
ஒரே இடத்தை
நோக்கி பார்க்கும்
ஏக்கமில்லா ஐக்கியத்தை
கண்டுகொள்வாயா?

Avrina prabala-joslin (1992, Tamil Nadu) is a poet and fiction writer writing places, beings and times. Obsessed with memories that pervade and evade, often of childhood, avrina’s writing is an ebb and flow characteristic of their desire for the sea. avrina’s story won the Short Fiction / University of Essex International Short Story Prize 2021 and works have been nominated for the CRAFT Short Fiction Prize, Indiana Review Fiction Prize, Berlin Writing Prize, Desperate Literature Short Fiction Prize etc. Their research on feminist media won them the Niedersachsen Wissenschaftspreis 2019 and the Gender Thesis Prize 2020. Years of poetic and academic experience have enabled avrina to create a devoted bardic practice keen on bringing poetic narratives to collective spaces through readings in collaboration with fellow poets, and through literary practices such as their work as Prose Editor for international journal128Lit. avrina has read at/for Bangalore Literature Festival, Mathrubhumi International Festival of Letters Kerala, Prosanova Hildesheim, Academy of Arts Berlin, the LCB, Poesie Festival Berlin, Lovecrumbs Edinburgh, etc. apart from being published in Sinn und Form, The Bombay Literary Magazine, Stoff aus Luft, Kaalachuvadu etc. Avrina is one of the non-German language Literature Fellows of the city of Berlin 2024.
