what remains- time kills

sediments of love and despair,
like a dose of a morbid orchid petal,
throbbing in my blue cheeks
my limbs are rooms, small pavements that you rock
small parts, dilating trembling stairs of life,
a star inside a boxed room of loneliness
revolving in the thicket sheets of air,
a haze and a backache.
a periphery of grapevines, strangling
telling me to be naked on the evil plates of loss.
i bite my lips.
i bite my lips.

my body is nothing but a voice of pain
shredding, autumn leaves
a loose fitted, transitory polar air,
cold, crisp and moist like
a surgeon bisecting my legs, my frozen tongue.
and i am nothing
only a figment of blurred smoke,
ashes like a solid piece of rope.


 

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a thousand reasons

between the lampshade of lips and my porcelain lips
 i carry your honeycombed shadow
 like a lust covered body, screaming in rose love
 i have a reason to lick your face,
 your breaths in ways flickering

Beneath the mole of my chin, a night rests
 it slithers a square black fit
 like an earthquake, an earthquake
 Metaphors of sun and moon lies
 in my womb,
 my place of sanity
 inside me choking with your love

a surreal slip of owls & hunters
 clambering unearthed lilies
 You are blue.
 You are grey.
 You are colourless.
 Mine.
 i have a reason or two to bite
 your pages, the books of love
 Phantom protrusion of amnesia.
 Pills of intoxication
 Bay of Bengal splashing my bosom
 drop by drop, with chills neurotic
 A wasp breaths and moans
 slitting a thread.
 I have my reasons, darling
 to love you.

Ambrosia twirls like a cocktail
 thick mouth swarming of dreams,
 filling the cracks,
 the walls, the ceilings, the mouth
 the feverish body.
 I have a thousand reasons darling
 to love you now.

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.
 Occulus occurring,
 ravine crux of silhouettes.
 Damn! You mirror of molten eye.



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

Uproar



i have a body that whizz like a circus
 two eulogies of sanguine madholes
 clifts and wars of a drunk man
 Loss of vision.Loss of words.
 repurcussions produce hollows
 as deep as a cactus.

My knees producing floating ambhibians
 Almost inhuman.
 Slid my copious throat
 you will have two minds again there,
 savaging my body
 like it's a loss of nothingness.
 streaming hot heads of loss.

©MVS

Music of pain

a voice is creating a map inside
breaking my legs, my arms
into the eye of nothingness
i see nothing.
i feel nothing.
my lids are dropping day by day
i considered rescuing poetry,
the pale fonts, tampered words
and it ate me, slurping mouths,
Vermillion floating mirrors,
stuck to my lips
and cracking the pain
on the floor for you to dance,
it’s a pattern.
it kills and kills
obdurate music of pain.
such coldness slipping,
stopping the clock of gods,
speaking or praying.
this coldness is chilling
with a hint of a lone heart.
i die here.

©Image and words-MVS

instagram


A small talk.

Hola, my dear readers!

It has been ages since I have done a pep talk with my soul or anyone about my writings of late. I know a lot of you love my surrealistic poetry, yet since past a few days I am unable to feel the flow as if something is missing. Not a writer’s block, but something anonymous perhaps. It irritates you know. My inspiration is growing into a thick rope of fungus. My mind is stiff.

And, I also wanted to thank all my dear reader’s who have read me in depth like crazy. I might not say it each time, but I genuinely appreciate your time. Also, I might be irregular with my poetry as things are insane inside my mind but hope you will continue reading me. Saying that I still follow my rule of following any blog that interests me. Period. At times, I write on my Instagram account, but managing all these social media is surely not my cup of tea.

I will rather stick to this beautiful community. I am also working on my books yeah I know it is taking time, still I have to do it, besides that my work is scheduled in some of the magazines and that’s all.

Nothing much exciting, I guess!

Love & light~^^

©MVS||

Cease and breathe

self

Cease and breathe
the essence dripping, red like bird’s paw
emulsifying,
You are the spot, crooked and tangerine
So how do you mark your sins?

••••

Cease and count your curves,
red, pink and blues
your honey-dripping eyes,
facepalmed voice, mirrors bustling.

•••

Stand stagnant, dip into memories
you are a flower seed
A banshee of ghosts quiver
inside your language of lust
inside your pain of more and more.

•••

Cease and breathe,
with tip-toed mercury eclipse
kiss the moth
kiss and burp, your painted nails
red as nature’s love.


©image and words-MVS

#NaPoWriMo-5

When -the -pendulum- strikes

During nights, my body becomes a range of chemicals. The nocturnal nails dip in the swamp of black thoughts. My windowsill evaporates, fumes of my detailed miseries. It’s not saddening what my mind does to my hand and arms. My hair bun, all soaked in summer sweat, dripping anxiety like forlorn tales of missing cities and people. Cleaved heart with tossed skin, my yellow skin delivers light during the phosphene of night.Tangling and swinging, the ebb of my calves lift up like candle flames floating. I cling moist conversation to my entire body parts. Inch by inch. I unwrap the stagnant proliferating blood shadows slowly as my cigarette fades. Silence is the best healer. The wounds chop the underlying skin, razor teeth on my mind. Time defies body, time defies truth, time defies the eye.

I often take a pen and mark my mouth with words and poetry. Periphery protects a savoured soul. Soil: it marks the beginning and the ends like a mirror-crack. Insanity is not what I would call it! During nights, my body regenerates, a cotton swab soaked and firm like Osmosis emerging inside. My body becomes wild.
It’s a symmetry of red dot with a black line. It delivers a soliloquy speech of life and death. Something that my orchid coffin understands and my bizarre soul knows. Chemistry shoots up my body like a talking death hoop. During nights, my body eats my mind.

©MVS- NaPoWriMo#3


Smokes and kisses

Hundred lipped mouths, wet and poppies
exist in our cities of rains and puddles
Throbbing eyes, milky jolts,
with lush moments of air and air,
Crisp, transparent, the air.
Peeling layers of our shaved skin,
sun-kissed scars and plateaus of the mole.
I smirk and rise like molten frames,
with eyes skinning past memories of lust,
Eulogies swinging, comrades of dandelion.

I knit your lips to my vainglorious body
for the fingers count your aches and twists,
I dilute in your convergence and liquid formation
Hourglass, my silhouette sinking.
You expand your inundate fingers,
they hallucinate my feminity,
with orgasmic temples,
caressing green fields, my stomach
undrapes, silk gowns floating.
aurora candle-lit stars,
my polar body diverged, fluttering
with caskets of thin films
of smokes and kiss.


©MVS- NaPoWriMo

Journey so far

A year and a half now on this beautiful platform which gave me an opportunity of sharing my writings and reading some brilliant work too. I want to take a moment and say how grateful I am to all the lovely people here who never fail to encourage and support me. A lot happened during this journey as once I also deleted my blog back in 2017 and then made this new one which again you guys flooded with love, thanks for that! Last year also I got featured in various beautiful online journals and with God’s grace, many more are upcoming including my next book.

To be honest, I don’t follow back all my followers for the mere fact that you are not my cup of tea doesn’t mean that you ain’t good. So let’s just say that! I deal with various body illness and often mind slaps which makes me write dark poetry. I know most of you must be like get over with it already…but if you don’t like it step ahead, please. I won’t stop writing what I feel. Oh yeah, I write philosophy too or love poetry too!

I have met some repulsive creeps also on WordPress which I can’t even begin to describe because I don’t want to. I don’t want to make my vibes squalid and disgusted.

And to all you lovely souls, thank you for your immense love, I hit 2K in December and since then I wanted to thank you all. I always shall appreciate you and I shall always breathe poetry.

©MVS