A spotless sight


“I see nothing”- Virginia Woolf

There lies a bed of moisture.
purple hearbeats uttering a syllable of nothingness.
They talk about mad- men, apples and half eaten berries.

For I see wet pastures of land,
moist like mother’s bosom,
fresh and pure.
i see a dot placed in the universe,
a huge platter of yellow potatoes.

inked & full of a queer silence.
People talk of silence as a sin,
and this remains in your grave,
hoping for a tear of melancholy.

i see nothing across my windowsill.
a bird mocks at my crooked almonds,
a burned Poetry.
Or are the people burned around?

A pothole in the eye opens the pathways forward.
A tender desolation.

I am like a feeling of soft romantic fiction.
love that never stays. Brutal.
A panned picture of a pastel tree.
I see a hollow curvature of my elbow,
looking at the sight of black thread.

i see nothing. I am moving & absorbing
as an infant does.
The light shades are my paper prism,
clinging the arbutrus of your sacred space.

Moonlight

i hear jars of jasmine
 in the pale moonlight
 singing and swallowing
 the day's lie
 the fallen mask of scalded hearts.

the night has a belly of jam and butter
 smooth, a swamp of blood moons.
 a feverish rush of adrenaline,
 saying chants to hypnotize.

I hit 3k Subscribers today. Thank you all for showing me your love.

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||

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


As You Lay Dying

vintage glamour black and white photography couples | black and white, fashion, mirror, pearls, vintage eyes

How many dark spots do you have,

Lizards and crocodile scream

to see you knitting lips on lips.

Papers mock your hubris hands

Ruffles and hibernation

In the planets of chivalry

in the swamp of lies

I see your lies and eyes,

A corrosion of rock.

I am a piece of molten clock

and

Your dark fingers are bait

like burning of ashes

cold powder.

Burial grounds smirk,

vicious cigars, vicious you

Discomfort intrudes my throat

with swollen ebbs of a horizon

I am a distorted voice

to see your insane games

only

I am more rapturous to

see you dying.

®MVS