You can have it all!
Drink perfume &
smell like milk
Dance your witch dance
everybody screams
at the greats always.
Don’t dance
to the music of mere men.
Drink deep.
kiss a few kraken
join the oldest religion
Not in Florence
nor in the machine
But love.
The soothing magic of it all
Makes you finally belong
I keep rubbing
A phantom gland
Maybe muscle memory
Its no aladdin's lamp
All i feel is sore
Crying for once more.
Maybe its not a portal
But a wound
we have overcome
Maybe now its time
To stop hearing
And start listening
Begin once again.
A grown up baby
is not grotesque
Its just groot.
So
Inhale the music
The scent of today!
Get goosebumps
Heck! Even enid blyton
Lets catch smugglers in
Mysterious moors
Please just hold that magnifying glass
Very tight
On the famous five senses
You will be born again
And this time you will dance.
Very often (in life) we substitute
(not immediately
but over time)
our primary source of gratification.
The validation I crave
as addicting as nicotine
now comes from work
and not anymore from my
creatively crafted words
but now my 'cleverly' drafted words.
Not camaraderie from my friends
but companionships with The One.
Rather than be filled with guilt
over these ever moving tectonic plates
and drama fought over
the shifting shapes of time,
graceful acceptance
of what we have now
and not just redundant regret
over what we once had in the past
Acknowledge
that even though the past lives only in our heads
albeit rent free
We are still very much alive
and can be our own tertiary delights
keeping us balanced
in the right line of sane
Like only old friends can.
Written for the PU prompt ' Substitutions'
I am publishing my works after a break and I thank everyone who encouraged me to start writing and sharing it again!
Some pics of the first digitally handwritten draft
Reclaim
Rekindle
Rebirth
A beautiful prompt for the new year 2023 by Poet's and storyteller's united
Resolution
 |
Rising
from water
I
rinse my soul
Of
uncleanly remnants
Belonging
to a rabid past.
I
emerge calmer than
the
wind which breathed
Life
to my nose
Regaling
gales which knocked
my
wind before
will
just leave my soul sour
I
pledge to do that no more.
Fresh
start
From
ashes apart
Will
bear fruit
Only
if you stop being everyone’s favorite fool
Be
ugly, Be astute.
Bleeding heart
Don’t let it start
It will never stop,
Till it one day drops.
Then please bring out the
harps
and the orchestra and what not.
Nature or nurture?
Just cannot escape these
vultures
Feasting on the flesh of my
heart
At one point I just let it to
rot
Forgetting they were cannibals
after all.
So better to bleed boldly
My love and care and worries
Along with the hemoglobin
Towards humanity & you
Than zombify myself
And project coolness
Only to be lifted on a coffin
On the way out.
My
Bloody heart beats for you
&
Bleeds for humanity
Bends down for humility &
Bombards for atrocity
Blood is a sign of oxygen
pumping
Bathing out our concern in a
Bright red colour.
Pain is a sign of growing
Past the vultures
Who are a sign of success.
Keep feeling
One day it will lead to
fruitful action.
For PSU's Prompt - Ordinary.
Is there anything more
humane?
Than a man mourning
the mundane
Yet finding comfort in
routine
Quite routinely I must
say.
Wanting to reach for
the stars
From earth his leg
goes far
Is there a more
humbling force than gravity?
The elegant equalizer
Electromagnetically
pulls into
A simpler direction –
Inward.
The outer pieces of
the puzzle
Are easier to solve
But as we move inward
We find in ourselves
the good shepherd
Giving out the true
reward –
The meaning of it all.
You would be amazed
To know
What you thought was a
maze
Was just a craze
Caused by your dire
daze
Only within the
ordinary
You would find Life’s
dictionary.
I thought I was making the right choice
At that time
You ticked all the boxes
on paper
Soon
I was boxed into a corner
Crushed by your corny love
Heck I wasn’t even horny no more.
I decided to sleepwalk through life
If I opened my eyes truly
We both knew
This would be already over
You lovingly blindfolded me
I loathingly cuckolded you.
I woke up one day
And decided to live the truth
Consequences be damned
I still remember your cries
As I sunk into my sofa
We were away by so far
Yes
I never deserved this
Kind of love
But you said
I’m incapable of love
Called me a robot
The only time you spoke your mind
Was when I was leaving you behind.
I bleed too.
I’m thriving now
Hope you are too
P for Pain
P
is for pain,
is
also for pleasure.
That
drop of blood
Which
is supposed to torment me
Actually
excites me
excruciatingly
enough
P
is actually for perspective
What
pain is for a masochist.
Pain
is the paint
I
brush my body (heart) with
So
that I don’t have to
Process
my pertinent emotions.
Pain
is the feeling I embrace
The
bruise which I keep on picking
A
gift which keeps on giving.
The
obvious physical pain of
Broken
bones
The
odious psychological pain of
Broken
homes
I
embrace it after all
only because
I don’t know how to exist
as a person
Without pain
at all.
The world spinning
I don’t see
When I am in the zone.
Words are all I have
To weave art
To create
A quick restart.
Maybe it is out of
fashion
To get your hands
dirty
With all the ink
and mental stink.
Fragility is art
I cup the words with
my
Tired hands
And when it stands
On its own merit
I show it off like simba.
Sometimes I just let
it dry out
And adorn my wall.
Other time I just mush
it
Into senselessness
And devour the meaningless of it all!
For the awesome picture prompt by Sunday muse
and sunday pantry in Poets and Storyteller's United
Clenching till
My molar broke
And puss pour
Still biting down the pain
Of the secrets of yesterday
A peerless phantom
An invisible limp
The line you cross to know me
She shrugged.
A sardonic hmph
Was what my secret amounted to.
Felt relieved & reviled simultaneously somehow!
What now?
Written for poet and storyteller’s united’s ‘beloved companions’ prompt.
This one is about my furry friend Laika ❤️
Firmly rooted at the
same spot
For Two decades and a
half,
I was jealous of the
monkey a lot.
Jumping between me and
her
He wreaked havoc in my
heart.
I yearned for bold
adventure
Till one day he
snapped me in half.
Then I began
developing slow respect
For this lovely bird,
Who was content to
perch on me
He enjoyed my silence
&
I his comforting
baritone.
He decided to call me home
And nested in my
bosom.
We would watch double
rainbows
And hilarious humans
With equal interest.
It was magical while
it lasted
But he was a bird and
I a tree,
One day I had to set
him free
To migrate to new
places
Will he come back?
And when he does
Do I want him back?
Soon I’ll be old
And I live in India
They will tie ropes on
me
And start calling me
goddess
And worship my
bareness
Call me wise &
Never let me rise.
Or worse
They will forget me
And the clouds will
stop cooperating
They will cut me with
their axes
And make me into a
table
Or whatever the hell
they want.
Oh god I hope not!
We are what we believe
And I believe I hear
in my green ears
The handsome music of
tomorrow ~
This post is dedicated to Deepika who has been a constant pillar of support. Thanks for always helping me painstakingly - be it my blog or love life or buying the right gift. You're the best!
A Repressed soul
Shouting from inside no more.
I exude confidence in the
Smoke I puff out
Little do you know
I did it by
burning my soul
And those Amorous Ashes
Won’t stay inside no more.
I want to pour myself
Unto a vessel like you
And hope you make sense of me
And whisper me my truth.
I can’t keep looking
for someone
Who doesn’t exist inside
no more.
Far too long
I have been comfortably numb
Make me feel
With your pinprick gaze
Pull by hand
Muscles floating in outer
space
Rub my eyes
So I can see through the haze
Define reality
By sealing my lips
Drive me home
From this dauntless daze!
