Bleed it till you breathe

flux the cactus outwards
stretching from your comatose body of air
Inwards and upwards, the abnormalities
with twigs of mahogany bleeding between your legs,
let it out, screeching your skull
till the brim splits and an adroit sleek barrier exist,
Your body, a stoic compressor
of thoughts and sighs
with longitudinal horizons.
Plain and sober.
Breathe and emancipate like a child with doll skin.
You will enter a circle, beneath your fingernails then,
a point of reverberation. Gulp the blank dot of this life.


Sounds of you

This evening is a slender fireplace
burning my wet loss of losing you
a loss is a numb attack until felt
and so i see hums, bells sliding between
out cheese skins,
mellow at the bottom, i am a dream of a lavender,
matchsticks burning curtains of you,
slowly
slowly
you meltdown from the Alps, and my garden
towards a barefoot blue whisper.
A crescent moon born beneath the sway of pulp thighs
Grapevines, nocturnal in hushed nights
observing our warm apple breaths,
floral segments onto our clothes-
my white skirt and your black pants

I burn in such fields of coherence,
cleaving affection as my second, language-
Oh man, your arms of white clay
waning thunders of a white moon
so soft and musical,
unveiling a lantern of fireflies.

And then I make a sketchbook of you
amidst the pale pink flowers,
your name embossed like a manor of bees.
There under the branches of hardened leaves
between the sordid naphthalene balls of kiss
I found you, like a fallen star.


a death star

i watched you each day, with magma, ash
and towers of a conundrum
taking spirit in the eye
the eye of aghast
devoid of luminous rays
i wanted to be sweet as rain
sitting on chairs, harmonic choir.
but you smoked me like a cigarette
you did again and again
with holes in the palms
scrawny li’l feet of parasitic words,
interstice hollow, feeble like a white faded star.

I was a star once
sleeping beneath your pillow
that lush land of dreams
until the skewered paths of dust emptied my eyes,
eyes of dreams and kiss.
I was a star, soaked in the tranquillity of moments
moments like fragile china, fragile ring.

Dumb is my mouth, I guess
Sequin pattern of Crooked Moon,
missing like pages,
like words unsaid by my mother to father-
Oh darling, my dear.
A cadence to spit,
sickle of time and lies.

Pointless air-i breathe

what if my entire body is stones and drugs
with a sound of silence
pieces missing, haywire mercury temperature
like a slurp, books in the air.
Breaking monotony, scratching my innermost thigh skin
and bleeding like the blood of sanguine valley.
How many steps do I have to perform?
To be lost.
to be a volatile air.
amorphous, porous
Trees of death define people and deeds
Horrors sit and immaculate in ounces of despair
spick and span, the atmosphere that I carry
or abrasive at times,
I do not know much.
The point is i am bleeding like a lotus in a sink.
and I need closure, sun in the fist controlling myself, sulking my aches.
The eyelids are swollen and broken
with scars running through the table and the wet floor
the point is I am lost and surreptitious
like a dried lemon-peel in the air, aerial.
aerial my body, aerial my legs, a cacophony of that.
The point is, I feel pointless at times, like the sip of wine.
I have visuals down my throat of sleepless nights,
potions and pills
and no face of roses in my garden, holes in the punctured air
i have it all in the box
down my body
down my abdomen
and still its all pointless.

_______________________________________

p.s-I am back with my thoughts. Yiee.

Empty Spaces

My motif heart breaks
like a pool of ugliness,
Last night’s love, now a vintage memory
how you mock my love, irritates me.
i revolve like an Earth,
sticking to the mollusc
and petunias
and i fall.
fall like a group of galaxy
wild animals biting my skin
and I see you nowhere.
Nowhere inside me.
Nowhere uplifting my heavy stoned-arm.

You put me on bed
like an Old Wine to taste
till it drips and bursts.
Torrential streams of rivers of insanity.
I weep like a duck.
I weep like a drunk night.
(Soothing itself with its own light)
I weep and break.

You may ask the perforated sky
with drops of atoms
ripped apart from my chest
like the plunged rose, or honey-nectar.
A void in the sun.
A void in the star. Barren faces of slick dust.
And you will see where you left me.
Empty Spaces.


Mirror of molten eye


Lets cut your molten mirror eye
 the pain of anguish and beauty.
 Paper crux. Purgation and names
 Chalice of age,

A timeline.
 A loophole.
 Eutrophication of breaths.
 Missing smiles of Ganges.
 A longitudinal filth.
 Memories of a cactus walk.
 A deluge.

You have the eye to smirk
 bodies floating like ghosts
 you splinter the seed of skins,
 partitions of mind
 like a river from Thar.
 Oculus occurring,
 ravine crux of silhouettes.
 Damn! You mirror of molten eye.



Loosely inspired by Sylvia Plath's - Mirror
©Image and words- MVS

Something-burns/

fears, apparitions
 all in the fist of sun
 drunk like Orange ghost
 I sip a string of velvet curtain
 palpable strings of night
 i take the atmosphere home,

Autumn breaking down,
 in need of denouement
a phase of psychosis-
 what does a star desire?
 Hope, freedom
 or a song to sing itself.

®MVS

Sunshine Blogger Award

 

Image result for sunshine blogger award

I know I generally don’t do awards but this time I made it an exception mainly because I wanted to answer something about myself as I am in the process of Self- discovery. Many thanks to tinarosepoetry for nominating me for the same.

RULES:

  • Thank blogger(s) who nominated you in the blog post and link back to their blog.
  • Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
  • Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
  • List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or on your blog.

My Answers-

  1. What is your favourite thing about being a blogger or writer?

I feel like blogging is the process of Catharsis for me. It relieves a lot of pain and anxiety making me feel better. The favourite thing shall be writing without giving a damn!

  1. Where do you get your writing and blog post inspiration from?

My darkness is enough to inspire me.

  1. Who inspires you the most in your life?

My mind. And if we talk about a person- Audrey Hepburn to an extent.

  1. How do you deal with writers’ block?

I go crazy then sip a cup of coffee. Then reverse the whole procedure until I am sane to think again.

  1. What is your favourite thing in the world?

Staying happy and writing.

  1. What is your mantra?

Expect nothing from anyone and You shall be at peace.

  1. Best place you have travelled to and why?

None so far to compare. I want more to make me happy.

  1. Where would you love to travel to in the future?

Paris. Seychelles of course.

  1. If you were allowed only one item on a desert island what would it be?

A journal perhaps?

  1. If you had five wishes what would they be?
  • World Peace
  • My wish to be successful in writing a bunch of poetry books.
  • Loving myself more and more.
  • Living a couple of months in a tree house, alone.
  • Travelling more.
  1. If you could be anyone for a day, who would you be?

Pablo Neruda, I really want to get inside his way of thinking.

Nominations-

My Questions-

  1. How do you define success?
  2. Your favourite blogger/writer?
  3. 3 things you wish to have right now?
  4. How do you deal with anxiety, if any?
  5. Your current favourite passion?
  6. A dark poetry or love poetry?
  7. How do you manifest your mind into things more philosophical?
  8. What inspires you to write?

Ah, that’s all. I really can’t think any other questions as for now.

I feel so different right now to do such a post because mine is an award free blog. But anyways!

Thank you for reading so far.


 

 

melting inside your mouth


i do not hallucinate time
 and your levitating skin
 bluish words, bluish eyes of Meraki,
 i count the scars on the nape of your neck
 infinite scalds of heaven
 pulling life backwards and forwards.
 You have an impatient mouth
 sundial beds of petunia
 faltering sheets of sunbathed sheets,
 you prick my lips
 like a landslide romancing Moon,
 surreal.
 I am awake as i fall
 i fall and i am awake
 swans of a churlish period.
 we took needles in our mouth
 stirring
 and shaking
 producing spring again and again.
 silver hum of nights
 dissolving,
 in the orange casket of my ovary.

© Words MVS

As-You-return

Things return like autumn,
 with leaves, shades and colours
 as your mountain essence
 stick to my collar-bone,
 in the moments
 of nights, haze, dawn.

One by one,
 I circle around
 you, infinite-ball-of-love
 and soaked in your fingers
 and memories of the return,
 this mahogany burns,
 it burns as a bay leaf
 in segments and silvery parts
 I fall into parts,
 your demure pasture of lightnings,
 your mushy belly button
 your mouth of Jasmine

We made love
 to grow old together
 to be a single fallen star,
 we made love for your return
 where I am picked and loved,
 like a frozen pea,
 in your hand.
 And, I wait here
 for your return
 all like a wool,
 Fixation to occur.

©MVS