I sit here. In the park full of overly grown people.
I see a black sky, lights flickering halfway.
A subtle ripple of a thought gushing in the man’s eye,
standing next to me
I emboss his voice to the sky, somehow.
A bush full of flowers,
sweet nectar from the eyelids
submerging my feet in the lush.
I walk and stay close to this creeper,
sticking to my bosom.
I adore the soft lust it whispers to the ear.
in the winter night,
where do they all go?
here, amidst the wild eyes,
amidst the lilies here speaking a foreign language,
a child’s laughter disappears somewhere.
The trees have begun to dream again,
oscillating between the heaven and the hell,
and in this darkness, I become wild and small.
Like a wildflower on the pathway.
A red dimness hovering my hand,
cold cough of the night
spreading like a red bright flower across the faces.
Where will humans go, now?
A temple, a church, a mosque?
Or will they sleep
with an enormous restlessness.
Beautiful poem !! You kept my imagination pulsating in pitches forward and backward to a luscious crescendo !!👏👏
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I love the tiny details expressed in this. . .
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Thank you!
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Beautiful writing Val
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Masterful and thought-provoking as always, your work is inspiring.
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Appreciate your kindness:)
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Does take the reader to another unknown world. Keep up the amazing work.
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🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
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Great observation with stirring visuals.
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Thank you:)
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You’re welcome 🙂
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sit here. In the park full of overly grown people.
I see a black sky, lights flickering halfway.
A subtle ripple of a thought gushing in the man’s eye,
standing next to me
I emboss his voice to the sky, somehow.
A bush full of flowers,
sweet nectar from the eyelids
submerging my feet in the lush
First paragraph is superb…..and that follows the next like a river.. really enjoyed the poem
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I missed your detailed versions of my poetry and now that you are are back, i find it delightful and so grateful.
I read all your words slowly and steadily and I am all smiles, honestly.
Thank you so much.
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Just found time..so wrote it.. always pleasurable to read your poems
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Devika, the way you read the beauty and the pain embossed in nature and around you is marvelous. Your writing is pristine and vulnerable like a dewdrop.
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