dear readers!

I am talking like this after ages, I know. Thing is something is there I feel lacking inside me. That satisfaction, maybe? Since past many days, i have been observing the silent response on my blog, not that i care for the stats. But the comments are the things which always uplifted me.

i have toiled like anything for this poetry blog of mine. I have written god knows n number of poetries by now. So, the thing is if it is not doing good now, i want to know the reason!

and yes, i am as always grateful to all my readers who have read me for all these years. I have been busy lately because of so many other things. But i sincerely want to extend my thanks to those who were there to read me!

drop your comments may be, of what you think of my poetry?!

 

have a great day ahead!

Circle

That’s life.

Run among the Autumn leaves. Run among your cascading bruises. The skin that is swollen now, the eyes which are full of jaundice, even if fingernails fall. Run.

Beneath the tree, under the valley, rub your scars, screech, shout, rub your scars again till you faint , naked facing the mirror of life.

To die or not to die, we all came to buy the bourbon once. The stale cracking lies you hold, the mask that you spit each day, dark, humid drums.

I carry in my mind, the eyelids yearning to be opened now. The electricity of sugar and salt concoction.

Take a pause. Survive. Ascend, Descend. Burn the walls like floating miseries.

Fall in Love with the fireworks inside your mind. Defeat. Put fog inside your collar bone, powder your dreams. Choose colours again. Red, mauvy red, Magenta.

Splash the cold water, like opening poetry lines, oh now you get me?

Run, Discover. This is life.

Poetry and Ink.

No, it did not start with the extraction of bones and marrow. Neither, there was an epiphany.
I pluck my eyebrow with a sharp pencil, to check the skin underneath. A bizarre.

Mockery of a round square pats my naked back, yelling I have something inside my earlobe too.
So, I prick my navel and join the rummaging polka dots meeting my ankle, eroding the black spot finally.

What is there after all beneath my transparent skin? I burn. I burn.
Enough by now, drinking, smoking indivisible moments. They inundate like ant colonies.

For I have a single eye, a single lip, a single leg, a single tornado
The rest is a stone of Poetry and a wool of Ink.


Denial

Tonight, I shall smirk and produce cactus in my bones. Reverberating your conjured beds exhausted me. Tonight I shall not be a bean of pelican feathers, a china crockery. With the burial of your carbon mouth, I burn till the sky thumps. And then you shall explode the way I did.

Your clandestine face is like a green moth today. Pulverizing. Torrential.

The language of lonesome affairs strikes and burns my ginger thigh, moisture resides, phosphorescent sigh.

Scream and watch that burning sky. Swallow the eclipse. Revolve and rotate like wild sharks. A stack of lipids and liquids shall only entice you. You leap and crawl. Your skin is that of marine molluscs, fidgeting, concealing.

Tonight, I refuse to entertain you.

The burning wax is still my favourite companion.


®My Valiant Soul

Things I will Preserve

There are things that I want to protect. Like the oxidised carbon,
like your mouth and my ferocious voice.
My earth shaped body: heaven resist into my temple mind,
like your inundate doses of love prayers to me.
Your sun-kissed pavements, mosaic dreams.
Your vintage lullaby’s while I am a mess.
The sunsets that we adored while we clicked our moist tongues
There are things I want to count time and again.
The hush oceanic fingerprints you carved onto my bosom
The silence that we sank into, the eruptions of sordid lust and galaxies revolving
If I had a red box, I will preserve your words, pictures, stained teacups,
the old mahogany chair on which we did crosswords together
That old whiskey smelling blankets I hid
after you were gone,
I want to count it again and again.
Your white shirts piling on my navel,
like a tropical meadow of white roses
The cold layers of evening when I drank and danced
You kissed me like a newborn baby’s skin,
My abhorrence divided right here,
Till my skin melted, aroused and melted again in yours,
I will count that further and further.


Published yet again in Visual Verse.

Many thanks to the team! https://visualverse.org/submissions/i-see-you-3/

©My Valiant Soul


Our Poetry

Pull me closer to your diamond skin
a place that eats all my molested scars,
in the walls of books and poetry
you shall be my muse, the other half.
of my upcoming poetic line, upcoming splinters of ice,
we make love castles,amidst the dirt hanging like spider web,
Precise knots of commitment are the strongest.
Skin:a reverie of splashing memory,
Something that your lips eat daily.
Turn by turn, inch by inch
we mark each other’s soul
creating geometry, defeating geography.
My collarbone is star dust today,
Ebullient scents from your whisky eyes
expand my artless poetry,
like the writings scribbled onto my library walls,
pink, orange, brown.
Infinite, Indelible.

– my valiant soul

P.s_- To my love, my constant.

BLOG GOT DELETED!

So something happened, let’s not say what exactly happened and out of a sudden impulse I deleted my previous WP account which was MY VALIANT SOUL COM.I’ve lost more than my precious 1.6 k  followers and their lovely feedback in the same process.

It would mean a lot if you guys support me once again!

Thank you.

My valiant soul.