Belinda Subraman

Between Hurricanes – Belinda Subraman

Between Hurricanes – Belinda Subraman

As we slide into the 3rd world we have created, running from hurricanes, with our SS# indelibly inked on our arms storms swell and swallow our control. I am flooded with life review, the beliefs of my youth. I reach for my first Bible which has survived every move. I am mystified by Revelation’s hal... »

Book Passion – Belinda Subraman

Book Passion – Belinda Subraman

I dreamed I was eating a book. It was made from 8” by 12” slabs one inch deep. It tasted like cheese but cut like watercress. as I chewed I understood. As I looked around others were reading the same title but in the regular way I couldn’t determine which was best, eyes only or digesting it my way. ... »

Classical Indian Explanation: Music – Belinda Subraman

Classical Indian Explanation: Music – Belinda Subraman

past the hippies past Ravi Shankar eons before when the first Asian snake came alive stiffened with sound through some empty shell some hollow wood some emptiness the snake was not so much charmed as listening intently to the accidental flute to that which he knew must be female its empty insides ca... »

My Indian In-laws – Belinda Subraman

My Indian In-laws – Belinda Subraman

I remember India: palm trees, monkey families, fresh lime juice in the streets, the sensual inundation of sights and smells and excess in everything. I was exotic and believable there. I was walking through dirt in my sari, to temples of the deities following the lead of my Indian in-laws. I was sco... »

The Waiting – Belinda Subraman

The Waiting – Belinda Subraman

Silence has no zen today. Ambient freeway noise from ј mile away, the occasional Friday nighter coming home 2:00 a.m. Saturday, the appliances with two-tone hums, the bumping and grinding of an old swamp cooler, a distant train, forces what has been pushed back to break through. My father needs O 2 ... »

Wayward Wind – Belinda Subraman

Wayward Wind – Belinda Subraman

My patient, Paul, wrote in a poem that he belongs to the wayward wind, a restless breed, a strange and hardy class. I’ve been with him for two years and now he is dying. “Are you in pain, Paul?” I ask. “I AM pain,” he said. But he is refusing medication although his cancer has spread from his kidney... »

Yin Yang – Belinda Subraman

Yin Yang – Belinda Subraman

At the edge of winter in crisp early March a dull thud of numbness delays joy and sadness that will make us weep. In the flow of life every aspect bears its opposite. Between extremes there’s the balance of peace or peace in the realization of balance. With the warm blanket of knowledge is the freez... »

Approaching The Veil, Scientifically – Belinda Subraman

Approaching The Veil, Scientifically – Belinda Subraman

Eyes like stars sparkle and die and cycle into new stars, new eyes. The answer is outside our window. Astronomers look for the beginning and find there is no end. Down to earth there are frozen lines, winter trees, stalled cars in dirty snow, sorrow over endings. The real world is through the window... »