Niyathi Chakrapani
ODE TO THE QUIET ROOM
…………There is a room
inside a paradox—the
…………silence, the calm of
…………grieving water, of lamenting purples in the sunset,
…………the flecks they see, admire,
…………but don’t love enough
……………………to remember.
…………And yet the silence is there, waiting,
…………surviving,
…………dancing alone with
……………………a [temporary] smile.
But—the paradox.
…………The marooned silence in which I fill my bones
with water, sustaining—yet barely—
…………for there is an element forgotten in
…………that moment; the silence, like water,
…………runs alone,…………unfriended, falling into seas
with vigor……………………………………………………that shakes the nerves as
……………………it breaks apart into molecules,…………writhing,…………trying
to come together,………… and yet, they are
alone.
……………………In isolation there is peace, and yet only more
……………………isolation.
The paradox soothes.
The quiet room, ephemeral disengagement from
the chaos of broken rivers—of
……………………loneliness inside candles—of
…………unloved bones.
When the door closes, I walk out, alone,
……………………and the river fractures,…………and the droplets break,
………………………………and the seas remember,
…………and we all scream
……………………together.
Niyathi Chakrapani is a poet, neuroscientist, and computer scientist, in no particular order. Find her book, Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Stars, on Amazon, and her work in Veritas and Filament Magazine. Niyathi is a two-time winner of the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards National Silver Medal in Poetry and a poetry editor for Textploit Magazine. She is also a University of Pennsylvania freshman, mental health advocate, co-founder of Bridge: Freshman Mental Wellness, and a slightly rabid animal at the sight of chocolate.
Image credit: Thomas Leuthard on Flickr
Read more from Cleaver Magazine’s Issue #13.