A Poet’s Sanity

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Do not cross your doubts in my face of trees
Humongous rocks piling and shattering altogether
I am a cloak of shadow, hiding and humming chants
to release my sanity, blue waters of Mediterranean hunger
Clap my soul, and find the twinnings of pieces of glass
Fixated on the roots of my birthplace, insanity clamours.

Reds and Blacks
beneath
the sheets of night,
Liquor and it’s all forms
enticing and questioning
I knock my mind, to check the sanity
and words perch like a thick rope
entangling and pressing my blood,
knots and knots and knots
I check for my sanity now each day
for people melt into my mind, askew drawings
and then question my sanity.


©MVS

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my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

68 thoughts on “A Poet’s Sanity”

  1. A poet’s sanity is her poetry, the place where all her hopes and dreams are achieved and fears conquered. Sometimes, her poetry becomes a solace for others, just as your words are for me. You are an inspiration, dear. Brava!!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

    Liked by 6 people

      1. You’re welcome, love. I am blushing and smiling now. This love is reciprocated, dear, let me tell you 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes even I missed a lot here lately as I was busy traveling. But hey, I hope you will fight and conquer dearie or even better just feel it and write it till you feel the sunshine which you will.(if it makes sense)
        Just hang in.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I especially loved:
    “…for people melt into my mind, askew drawings
and then question my sanity”
    There’s a fine line between sanity and insanity, I believe. Its largely based upon perception. Passion is both sane and insane, no? But it’s that which fuels poetry…the world, I believe.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I read this earlier and I liked it. I read it again now, and it makes so much sense. I find myself questioning my sanity too often these days. I often just want to give up writing, or write for myself, and just walk away from everything and everyone. I can’t make sense of existence, even though I’m desperately trying to. So this really resonated with me. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That happens, things begin to make sense as we read more diligently the essence of it.

      And true, there are times even I want to write for myself and I believe I still do that for myself only.
      Thanks a lot for your thoughts, Nitin.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. …for what is sanity if not conformity, the poet lives in her surreal world and writes what she feels will move the usually reluctant readers into theirs, being questioned is inevitable.

    Liked by 2 people

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