Here, I speak the truth to you,
the lies of occupation in appealing people’s sorrow
and the green urban dirt— a ghastly deduction of smiles
makes me a crooked vase of emptiness.
Monday: oh, it pours the spikes in my stomach
and churns the pancreas till the heart bleeds.
Saturday: a monotonous tone of soils parching,
producing fungus and mushrooms
Nothing remains, a wall of concrete harmony.
This tongue here craves the stardust of sunshine if any.
Something between moist eyes and moist thighs goes missing,
something between the linings of bricks and charcoal is vintage epoch.
The aprons, the tables, the cigarettes
the Sundays and the breakfast of savouring
my thunder, clasping the pharynx of my scandalous worth
is my favourite.
©My Valiant Soul
The mundanity of life expressed in the most prolific way. Almost profane with such subtlety and grace that makes it too irresistible to not pant and sigh in one breath. To cut my long nonsense short, I loved this.
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And that is a brilliant comment coming from a brilliant soul.
Thanks, N!
Love you.
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Aww that is so sweet. Thanks, Devika. <3. Btw, been meaning to ask you, kahan ho?
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“oh, it pours the spikes in my stomach”
Holy effective symbolism, Batman! That line is absolutely wonderful.
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Hi Tanya.
I am so happy to hear your amazing words. Much appreciated!
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So nice.
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This piece captures very well as you have described it “the occupation of life”…
The everyday things we need to do to just “live” life become essentially a job in their
mundaneness and monotony. The glimpse of specialness you share is a tiny snapshot
of a lazy Sunday morning. I know, as we all do, the value of such “true and real time” with the
person with whom we have chosen to share our life. To me the poem raises the question of how do you make sure you are not just living life as “the occupation of life” with the clue being…
how to make life like your snapshot of “Sunday and Breakfast”? (Perhaps just my interpretation.) The answer…like anything in life you have to make it happen. You don’t settle for the hypocrisy of people who have accepted the “occupation”. You don’t worry about other people, their forced expectations of you, and you make it a choice to make life special every day. And I am sure you will Devika. Have a nice day star diamond.
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How do I even start to enunciate my feelings after reading this strong comment! I would like to appreciate that minute part which you have picked Forrest about the monotony of job and the way of dealing with it.
Your words are always generous and wise. You never fail to disappoint my faith(if any) which I generally feel happy about.
All your words deeply encourage and support me.
Thanks a ton, Forrest!
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There’s only one star diamond.
You.
Remember that…
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Aww.
That humbles me yet again.
So much respect for you!
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A beautiful build up of the mundane and oft times dragged out work week to savour those Sundays. The image you chose tells the story of how you love to lose yourself in the thunder when you have time. Again, this is vivid with your usual gorgeous imagery and another glimpse into the poet herself! Love it, Devika!
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Yes this is something all of us feel so.
So happy you read my work once again and bestowed your gem like words upon it.
Thank you Alex for reading me and my mind as always.
You are tremendous!🙏
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Yes, it is, and you write it so well. You are welcome, Devika, always 🙂 Peace and respect!!
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😊
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🙂
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Oh my ! Almost left me breathless.
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Glad it was almost only.
Lol😊
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I agree with Yassy 😍
Breathless and speechless 💝💝
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Aww.
Priya you are my dearest true writer friend.
So much love!! 😊
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Love back to you 💝
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On the first viewing this piece seemed hopeless, but after multiple viewings you glimpse the hope. The green urban dirt, the pancreas that still bleeds and the fungus still growing. On an infinite plane of concrete, the broken weeds will still break through and wave with all their remaining strength in the wind. It is those forgotten, derided stems that we must cling to.
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This is a hopeful post and you sensed it correctly.
I agree the imagery might confuse at first but that is the charm of poetry!
So glad you liked my wordplay.
Thankyou so much!
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Amazing and beautiful – my favorite line is
“the Sundays and the breakfast of savouring”
It speaks to me of a peaceful calm morning with a dear love, and I think goes best with the picture.
I love this!
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It is all about what you want from a Sunday.
Thankyou for appreciating it!
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That is what I want from a Sunday, indeed. Thank you for writing it!
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We all crave that kind of Sunday.
🙏
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Indeed, we do! If that is you in the picture, then I am happy that you have that kind of Sunday every week!
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Beautiful! I love the lines “the Sundays and the breakfast of savouring
my thunder, clasping the pharynx of my scandalous worth
is my favourite.”
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That is true, isn’t it?😊
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True!
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