Burning Lamps

 

image credits- Pinterest

 

Tonight, I have smoked my favourite cigarettes
with curtains drifted apart, I sit here with a glass of my taste
And as this lamp burn, I burn like the melting wax
And I begin to bleed, I bleed on my paper with hot wax on my cold skin
Tonight, the moon is drunk too, the stars are churning my pain
they see me collapsing, they see me drowning
My pen sees it too. It scribbles my inner verses like wounds
scorching like the Thar dessert
My fingers still write, my mouth spits vexatious taste
A taste of my forlorn tale.
I burn my pen, I burn my pen
I slit the paper, then fold it again
only to make a paper again,
And with this clandestine night, I have my companion.
So I burn along with this burning lamp.

©My Valiant Soul

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The colours of your Love

Pick up the long brush and dip it into the red colour, colour then stroke my body with the same, dip it again in that heavy paint, colour my waist till the moonlit drops and the new morning knocks the door.Take me in you, again and again, hold me hard so that my heartbeat stops, let me feel my oblivion as I breathe hard, now arrest me in your thoughts.The dimensions do not conclude at this level as I am still awake so take me back again there, make me free, make me wild.

The caress of you hands on my back is the strong fire that ignites my future wisdom, so show me your colour depth! Don’t stop thumping my mind, don’t stop making me wild.Hold your brush more tightly, colour my body all over again touching the lows, touching the peaks, then join the dots, make a statement.

This zone where I have been suffocated me since then, the brim of my love extinguished and disappeared like dark smoke, so discover the new delights all over my body, as  we luxuriate together.Take me to the wildest worlds, where our desires can collide, the fire could spark and the nights can be bright. Show me your colour, the deep passionate one and fill me with it till I break.

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All I crave

 

image credits- Pinterest

 

It’s like crawling slowly and steadily on my skin, my cold skill refuses that baked slice

of lemon to provide composure, oh, the moon, show me your silver beam in this sunny gold pyramid.

It’s something like a blatant truth now suffocating my inside organs.

Clenching my unsaid words, devouring my amorphous fidelity

And, all my fingers crave is to play the music of your heart.

                                                                   ©My Valiant Soul

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Fragrant words

the ink drop bleeds from my wound of the past

how beautifully, it drops throwing my mask in the sheet

like the vapours colliding the sky

the exuberant eye-catching landscape

 drip , drip it falls on the paper, from my breath to my leg

from my mind to the tree that made this paper

I give my fragrance, wrapped in a fur to my words.

I give breath to my scratched skin

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Time is Me

Needles in my mouth, poking the sustenance of time
with a swab of cotton dipped in grey pause
A pause from the rigorous living and the dead,
beyond the veil, a harmony exists, a topology of Stardust
covering my naked breast.
A musical building devouring me with lust
sprinkling some on the nape of my neck,
Beyond this, precision exists forming clouds,
resembling my black locks elongating the path,
to travel the unfathomable soil,
the colour is not Auburn, it burns
it burns on my arms, it burns on my wet tongue,
twisting in forward steps,
each moment time moves, I stay here to glean the patterns,
to play hide and seek with the mirage, a shadow.
I draw curtains, performing segments to watch
the porcelain body of time’s shadow,
drawing paintings on the cerulean sky and I see,
a fragile moment of reflection
swallowing the colossal truth of me
Time is Me.

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GUEST BLOGGER: Devika Mathur ‘The Wisdom is her’

So thrilled to do a guest post for this versatile collection of poetry.

Sudden Denouement Collective

Mother: You are a hyperbole of the moon and the star, a hubris of soliloquy.

Like floating wax, you extend your skin to my mouth, forming chains of bewilderment

chains of congruence chains of mammoth frills of hope.

You lie in the darkest of hours with a sparkle of holy water on your chin, the pink chin,

the orange chin, the grey chin where all the clandestine secrets are packed between

your teeth and the parched lips, you give blossom to my hair extending to my curves

the scarlet, metamorphosis pattern of face

Opulent serenity lies in your blood, I see my reflection

Time, death or a crooked tree, you put embroidery incumbent to survive the veracity,

harsh or simple.

Objects around you become opaque, hollows of orange skies

squares of white ice, the eye of Satan

I absorb all the conjectures knitted in the black of  your eyes

to the stars in…

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Some – part- is -Gold

image credits  -self

My days sink in the pit of dark state of reality
under the quietness of the sky, beneath the tall balmy trees
I inhale my own emotion, sliced and open like oranges
and exhale to deliver the perplexed nerve
sulking into the golden pond
my eyes hallucinate the candles, lanterns
lit in my heart
I regenerate from the scratch of my hopes
Like shining bulbs, a foam of hope rubbing against my throat.
Mysteries like golden shadow, reality like dark ghosts
Vintage my thoughts, open up only to make a vintage web.
Run, hide, seek
or dwell in the bells of a golden canopy
that shall spread the brightness
in the same dark pit.

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Drop dead beauty.

My flaky fingers hold my hope like the sacrosanct dusk, the better is my mind with the fall leaves, the turpid pick of the smoke, pulling strings impeccably, wretched you say?oh, I am just a maniac wandering on the ebb of tyranny, turbulence and war see the pattern?It’s beautiful though dark.

The puzzles cut my thumb,scars all over the white skin,
nourishing I call it
Jasmine, fresh flowers
the brutality spreads now in my eccentric jovial mind
straight in the pond of sinking lips
the pond of dropping diamonds.

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Chants of you

The promise of high tide, the valour of blooming minds
in the blanket of stardust kiss
in the essence of my apron,
I carry thy words in my uptight hair bun
breezing the hopes, the yearning tongue in the air
Like I see a reflection in the consonance of my eyes
The paintings carved in my belly-button
like a deep slumber of a half-slept moon
establishing the prodigious words of skin,
the language of my pink tongue.
I see you as my dream-catcher sprinkling feathers on my soft breasts.
on repetition, you collide with my heart
An Orphic diamond kiss on my eyes.
The daydream is ephemeral for you shall rock
me in the cradle of lavender fields.
As my hair strands say phosphenes chants of you.

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Part Of You

The encapsulating drawings of the sky and blues of water
along with the dark brown forests, with a hint of green shrubs
The skin of tulips, the wings of my sublime poetry
my inner secrets, my outer smiles
The twinkles of star-dust, the serendipity of an ant colony
or the Apricity of a warm blanket
all runs in my throbbing blood, turning into flowers now
decorated on my elbow, on my forehead,
I believe, the summons is directed to your shelter
to reside in your heart
to dwell into your smile
that will make my brown fears,
concealed in your prodigious body.

 

P.S- Dedicated to my better half.

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Some things to say!

Hola dear readers!

How is your life? Mine is full on sucking with no grace whatsoever.Like literally sucking! I just wanted to take a moment and be gracious to all those who nominated me for many awards, as much as I am honoured I wanted to say that mine is an award free blog so please respect that as I respect your time to read my poetries.

Secondly, why I still get comments like” nice” or just “please visit my blog” like are you kidding me? Do I know you? No! Do I know from where have you landed? So why not begin with a decent “hi?” Please don’t leave me such creepy comments or I will make sure not to follow such peeps.

And yeah I will follow only those blogs whom I am interested in.:)

Insatiable hunger

Inside the rim of a bottle
Or outside the grilled window
You poke and churn the mystical hoax
Digesting into the pool of madness
A reverie. A fiction. A ballistic throttle.
A healing iris. A gargantuan of flowing words. A paroxysm.
Peel the skin, scratch the inside of an apple
Search the word, burn it and inhale in
your surreal peace, preen the mirth
And swallow the liquidity, join your body
With its formation, a constellation of stars
Then, you shall know insatiable hunger.

When the water is Dark

Kate’s lip was cracked. She ran with all her struggle.
A few petals of autumn leaves fell on her naked back,
torn clothes revealed her scars now,
The heinous brutality was a dark cage
People said it will be alright. So she fought.
She fell in the web of masked society. Hard to inhale
hard to smile, locking horns with the concealed brown pit
Splash of waters did not soothe her skin, now her sagging vapid skin
So she fought again.
She knitted courage from her belly button expanding to her gazing eyes,
The once charmed, innocuous smile
full of dynamite forever.
People still say Kate will be alright.

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Published in Virtual Verse

This is such a thrilling feeling as my poem “Discover” has been published in such a versatile magazine Virtual Verse. You may find my work on page 96 among the various beautiful pieces. I am so honoured to find my place there! The collection is stupendously brilliant.

Here is the link.

Discover

 

Burning Mystery

Each summer among the starry-nights,
I see poppy feathers dropping
On my startling skin, music, reverie
Under my chalky lips.
The pattern of floral constellations hang from my fragile skin, diamonds, autumn leaves
All wrapped like a melody string.
The moon flickers on my naked waist,
Churning its secret on my cheekbones
And something trembles inside for I learn today, I am a burning orphic mystery
Lost, found all at once.

Untraceable

The tropical mind you loved,

the charm of my heart you carried

shall be in the oblivion sky someday,

lost like scattered clouds,

The naivety of my soul,

the pureness of my childlike laughter

shall be hidden in the dark musty rocks,

so deep and exceptional;

that it will become untraceable

to find the original carvings

of my caricature.

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