a soft satin kiss
it happened before and it happened today,
i lay on the sides of my kitchen sink
thinking the arrival and departure of my husband,
arrival of his velvet mouth that utters a chain of lantern.
he is adorable, like the moon.
he has his own mood, often.
the purgatory of life resides in this cobweb.
things ascend and descend in a ghoulish manner.
a blue-knitted shawl on the cold chest.
things around me pamper me,
this lone time also pampers me,
i walk and create art in the garden,
in am vacant – small, terrace with broken chipped walls,
something happened there maybe.
something suicidal.
a spectral wire of corrosive shade and memory.
a twitch that shakes me.
often i am speechless,
the kind of attack when your fingers
won’t fit in your mouth.
eyes shut and small.
that’s another kind of suicide.
mondays and Tuesdays are my favorites,
i watch my body decaying until Sunday comes,
and i am a piece of supine tied at the block of a tree.
so i am alive,
i cling to the nakedness of moment like a toddler to a mother.
the sky to apathetic rain,
the embalming breeze to the leaves…
something rhetoric and oblivious.
at the end of the day,
i weep, laugh, take pause, clap and sip it all.
my eye behaves in a torrential tobacco sniff.
I look forward to reading your poems, thank you so much for sharing
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So sweet of you to say that!
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Nice
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Thank you so much.
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Beautifully penned ๐
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Thank you dear one. Hope you are well.
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Lovely!๐๐
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๐๐
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intriguing and beautifully penned!
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Hey!
Thank you for dropping your kind words.
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you choose words that carry weight! great expression
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I kind of am in love with that thing.. thanks for the read.
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your most welcome
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You should have your own testimony session somewhere. I say this because, I, along with others, would dial-in just to listen to these words:
“he is adorable, like the moon.
he has his own mood, often.
the purgatory of life resides in this cobweb.
things ascend and descend in a ghoulish manner.
a blue-knitted shawl on the cold chest.
things around me pamper me,
this lone time also pampers me,
i walk and create art in the garden,
in am vacant โ small, terrace with broken chipped walls,
something happened there maybe.
something suicidal.”
on a daily basis. This is superb, Devika. Truly.
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You really took that much time to read my poems all the time and that simple touches me , Tre.
This again just flattered me.
Thank you for all the love.
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You’re very much welcome. I am just being honest. Peace, Devika.
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Beautiful!! I am at loss of words to make any comment as always with your poems.
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Nice one
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Beautiful, thoughts. ๐โค
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๐๐
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This is beautiful. If I read such romance daily I’ll start living in an opera world
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This was a dark piece!I am glad you liked it.
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This made my heart wrench a bit, but at the same time gave me a soothing feel of the beauty with which you have woven the words so brilliantly. You were terrific with this one as with all your poems, D!!๐ค
Loads of love!!
โค๏ธโค๏ธโค๏ธ
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Hi dear!
This is that kinda piece, I know. I hope it did not made you think dark enough.
And always I am grateful to your sweet words.
Love to you.
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Not at all ! Reading you is always a delight. ๐คโค๏ธ
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This is so beautiful!๐ธ
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Thank you
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Beautiful imagery and I love the oxymoron in the title, too. Surrealism at its best.
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I am humbled to read your sweet words!
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Sure thing.
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Kya baat
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What a lovely post from my favourite poetess. Thank you MVS
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Thank you Kurian.
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You are most welcome Devika
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‘the kind of attack when your fingers
wonโt fit in your mouth.
eyes shut and small.
thatโs another kind of suicide.’
This whole poem got me like WOAH on each & every line. Damn, D this is too good. ๐
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You are really special to me. โค๏ธ
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Beautiful.๐๐
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Thank you Amartya.
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Pleasure reading such powerful poems.๐
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So many mood shifts in this poem (does the poem, like the husband, have it’s own mood?) that I felt quite tossed about by the end. This poem kept me guessing what was next. Thank you.
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Actually yeah, initially it’s a joy waiting for the husband and then it’s a monotony. Husband’s do have a mood.
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Brilliant share, excellent poetry dear๐น๐๐๐
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Thank you so much.
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You’re most welcome.
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love
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๐
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This poem spoke to me. Itโs very personal to you. I can sense that in your words when the mind wanders and you are stuck in the purgatory. You dangle between the feeling of being loved and forgotten. I might have gone on a rant here and but this is what your poems do to me. It really moves me.
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Yesssss, it connects to me! What else to say.โค๏ธ
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