poetry · prose

When -the -pendulum- strikes

During nights, my body becomes a range of chemicals. The nocturnal nails dip in the swamp of black thoughts. My windowsill evaporates, fumes of my detailed miseries. It’s not saddening what my mind does to my hand and arms. My hair bun, all soaked in summer sweat, dripping anxiety like forlorn tales of missing cities and people. Cleaved heart with tossed skin, my yellow skin delivers light during the phosphene of night.Tangling and swinging, the ebb of my calves lift up like candle flames floating. I cling moist conversation to my entire body parts. Inch by inch. I unwrap the stagnant proliferating blood shadows slowly as my cigarette fades. Silence is the best healer. The wounds chop the underlying skin, razor teeth on my mind. Time defies body, time defies truth, time defies the eye.

I often take a pen and mark my mouth with words and poetry. Periphery protects a savoured soul. Soil: it marks the beginning and the ends like a mirror-crack. Insanity is not what I would call it! During nights, my body regenerates, a cotton swab soaked and firm like Osmosis emerging inside. My body becomes wild.
It’s a symmetry of red dot with a black line. It delivers a soliloquy speech of life and death. Something that my orchid coffin understands and my bizarre soul knows. Chemistry shoots up my body like a talking death hoop. During nights, my body eats my mind.

©MVS- NaPoWriMo#3


43 thoughts on “When -the -pendulum- strikes

  1. Oh wow. I like the way you’ve written this, to me … easier to feel… to digest.
    You are feeding me soul food and I grow engorged and feast happily 👏🏻❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is so poignant and so surreal. The vivid imagery you have painted with your words reflects the transformation body feels going through the pain, the pain which can be defined as a chemical reaction in our body to which our emotions and the physical self-responds.
    This is too painful to picture.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Body becoming range of chemicals..I loved this line..body itself is chemical Factory,but at night you used the word ‘Range’ ,that says something more is adding to the body..it too clear and poetic and I can extract lot from that line because mind and brain relate those at night when you think deep for something…”The nocturnal nails dip in the swamp of black thoughts. My windowsill evaporates, fumes of my detailed miseries” windowsill evaporates fumes of detailed miseries…I think this line is not just comparison ..it says a lot about people who see through windows thinking of their miseries..even I do that..the way you kept that whole meaning in line was absolutely brilliant…👌👌. ” dripping anxiety like forlorn tales of missing cities and people” loved it..this is what we do ..we hide from outer world…👍👍..” the end of my calves floating like candle flames” very beautiful imagery..and one of theirs line in which you killed it was ” I unwrap the stagnant proliferating blood shadows slowly as my cigarette fades” fidaa💙💙 for this beautiful line….in second paragraph the expression or maybe lines with which you have started was wonderful “often take a pen and mark my mouth with words and poetry. Periphery protects a savoured soul” periphery protects a soul,and that periphery is poems and words…this is kind of healing or protecting with pens and thoughts…you expressed known feelings in new way..this is something I liked in this….and this one” During nights, my body regenerates, a cotton swab soaked and firm like Osmosis emerging inside. My body becomes wild.” Comparing the internal body process with ismasiscand telling how body becoming wild is Soo good……loved it ..very nice..

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Wow. I had read this twice, and then think and let it soak in. It has this dark, eerie allure to it, which I love. I love when you write poetry, but since I’m drawn to prose more myself, I just adore your prose.

    Like

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