Kalpita Pathak

Original Work.


Mediterranean Poetry (both poems on one page):

Poetry Life and Times:

Autumn Sky Daily:

Musing Publication, “Winter Dreams”, Winter 2022 Issue



Shiver In the Himalayas


Curving down

the mountain, a glacier arcs


the skinny road. We hurtle

beneath ancient icicles

dripping sacred water, wintry

summer sun flaring. A bus skids around

the bend toward us, men perched, perilous

on the roof. We pull to the edge,

wheels kissing,

         on the verge

                 of letting go.

The altitude dizzies my head.

I can’t fly, so I fight, staring at the broken

brake lights of car caught

in a tree growing sideways

between us and the twisting

unbound river below. From behind

me, you tug on my curls. Every root

tightens, taut hills rising

on my skin. The cool air parts

as your hand moves to rest

on the seat back by my neck.  


– Kalpita Pathak

Matched Set 


We don’t need rings

or a piece of paper

to bind us forever.

Why would we,

when the 1970s

sheer pastel Tupperware

cups you brought

from your childhood sit

in the cupboard next

to the corresponding cereal

bowls I brought from mine?


– Kalpita Pathak

Just A Bite 


I sprinkle saffron

over the sweet

mango shrikhand.

A small pinch adds

warmth and complexity.

Like the smallest

gesture from you –

a raised eyebrow,

a curled upper

lip, the graze

of your finger along

my knuckles – a little

goes a long way.  


– Kalpita Pathak



It feels like fire

on your skin. Under

it. Inside. Round

and red and hot as the tip

of a cigarette. You know you

shouldn’t. It’s a bad

idea. Feels so damn satisfying

in the moment

but lousy in the long

run. The question isn’t, Is it good

for me? The question is,

Is it worth it? You ask yourself

that as your fingers slide

                                        down, nails

freshly cut and unfiled

so they are sharp and ready

to scratch that itch. Is it worth it?

They find the mosquito bite and oh yes,

it is. It really is.


– Kalpita Pathak

Go Ahead; It’s Yours 


This time, I took the last

cookie. It was a little

stale. I bit into it and

it snapped in two with a sound

like a brittle heart

breaking. I ate both

halves and left the crumbs

for you to clean up.


– Kalpita Pathak 

Spring Cleaning: The Photograph of Better Days


I find it, wedged in the corner

between my bed and the wall,

fingerprints and powdery ash

smeared over it. A yellow crescent

of scotch or maybe coffee. My niece

is laughing as I swing her

in the air, her bootied pajamas

terry-soft, like a towel in my palms.

I’m in a swimsuit, having just

done the laps that strengthen

my heart for these rough times. 



– Kalpita Pathak



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Poetry is not only a dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before.

~ Audre Lorde