I need some love and support.

I am writing after a long time . As I was having a rough time with my life, life patterns etc and in the process I stopped writing almost everywhere. Even the acceptance letters from great magazines did boost up my mood but it did not stay for a long duration and hence I was always feeling almost numb and lost.

Meanwhile, I am writing this to ask a favour- as you all know I have a published book Crimson Skins” published last year, I need to keep it working too! I need your support. Please share, get a copy or just share this post if you can’t get a copy of my poetry bok. I have worked really hard for that one and it took almost 3 years to make through the entire publication process. If you love my surrealistic style, work, please consider getting a copy.

A kind friend of mine has something to say about the book-

Crimson Skins has a variety of work any reader will enjoy. The book isn’t basic and will be able to go the extra mile for years to come. I will be so bold as to say many of the pieces featured in it has the staying power of words by a few greats such as Sylvia Plath, Adrienne Rich, and Virginia Woolf. It ends just as it began, with an intense piece of writing showcasing the writer’s talent

Book review by- tre

Here are the links-

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Crimson-Skins-Devika-Mathur-ebook/dp/B08GCWK4D5/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=crimson+skins&qid=1631955409&sr=8-1

POTHI INDIA

Much love

Devika.

My newsletter- Here you get some mindful thoughts, classic poetry, exercises etc weekly!

Hear my Podcast episode-as I talk about creativity.

Dear Readers,

Hear me talk to the adventurous soul Petra on the recent episode for her Podcast that she calls “Erratic Hat Podcast”. I talk about creativity, the writing process and about publishing process etc. You can check out the podcast and her blog here.

Also, I have changed my newsletter title now- it is called – “The Weekly Shine“- Try reading the newsletter archive here and if you don’t like you don’t subscribe, it’s that easy!

I curate classic poetry, mindful activities, artwork all that for free.

The first issue of – All Ears is out now!

As I write this, I am reminded of all the wonderful poetry,prose that I have been reading for All Ears– An ezine for youth which has been edited by me along with five other editors. With an eye of an editor, it is never an easy task to analyse any piece but with the collective effort I am more than happy to present before you our first issue- You can download it here and enjoy it for free. The inaugral issue is filled with some brilliant artwork, poetry,prose etc. I hope you all shall enjoy and consider it for future submissions.:)

Love

Devika

Summer-

The collarbone cracks open,
a petal of your name,
a thick cloud of lust
sounds that speak only of splitted grass
I see you
and I think oh 'home'
honey-suckled touch,
tongues:
tongues interwined into sheets of desire
of lukewarm, misted talks
about us and hopes to stay.

           It is Summer now,
a season of orange hope,
golden grass grinning through the wind.
It is Summer.
I am inhabitated by the scent of it
that twirls my skin and turn it into faces of love.

I am a Summer-myself
bleeding through my cold sphere
daylight:
water on my toes
a gossip you all want to hear.
I am Summer for you-
for you to cling onto 
for you to breathe the scent.

I am stoked to announce that recently Indie Blu(e) Published its another beautiful anthology Through the Looking Glass– which includes my poem about Mental Health as the theme was the same. I urge you all to check out the same here .

Have you read Crimson Skins yet?

If not please check it out on Kindke, Pothi, Amazon etc.

Crimson skins – US
Crimson Skins- POTHI
My newsletters are filled with poetry, worksheets, mindfulness etc.
Subscribe to my newsletter- https://tinyletter.com/my_valiant_sou

A quick update about my blog

artwork source- Pinterest

.

Hi all !
I am just planning to engage in a new aspect of blogging and writing my heart out. For sure, I will be doing poetry, Poetry is my heart and religion but for some reason I want to connect deeper and would love to dig in more. I would love to discuss Art in all forms here. Surrealism and things so related. I am skeptical these days about my writing a little so giving it a small hold but apart from that I would love to be tagged for anything new or would love to check out your amazing diverse blogs. Please hold onto my blog and keep coming back to my new aspects of blogging which could be a simple life routine, a few updates anything at all. I am taking an off from my social media accounts once again because I want to stay connected with YOU ALL TOO MUCH.  Recently I did a collab poem with the stunning writer Lucy. Check out that here.


Attaching a poem from my collection of poems Crimson Skins. If you have not ,you can check out the same on all the major e commerce sites. Shared an Amazon US link.


My poetry is a portrait
And there it bleeds
with a straw of life
slipping
soaking a system of events
day by day
in the space of tectonic air.
My poetry is stuck
like a motif obeying no order
no smell of fear.
It stands on the wall
and watches it all happening.
A mouth like an operation room
choking on all supernatural paintings
floating, quietly
transforming into noise

Sending love and light

Devika

To the woman- who knows it all

The other day I thought of writing a poetry about healing 
About self- love, growth
Nonsense.
My tone is still abrupt, crooked, melancholic
Orange like the winter sun
My hands are yet pale.
Yellow as the home cooked oil,
The other day I thought of writing
about memories that soothe me
Motionless.
About the barren walks
Only to find how my head still bleeds
The mind that has empty grass,
Wild flowers not beautiful my friend,
Everything wild is not beautiful
for things need a foundation too.
Everything I know is rust
Everything I know is blue rain,
Forgotten like the rains so beautiful
Forgotten like the winter chills in the Summer.
Healing is a slow process
Coiling into a watery prayer.
I wrote my poetry book – Crimson Skins out of pain, love, despair. Hope you like it too. Links can be checked out here- IT’S AVAILABLE AT HALF THE COST ON POTHI.:) I have posted the reviews for my book in past posts, check it out if you are skeptical. I would appreciate it.
Crimson skins – US
Crimson Skins- POTHI
Subscribe to my newsletter- https://tinyletter.com/my_valiant_sou

The itch



the itch,
the orange glass ceilings always fail my existence,
an inhuman thing sinks beneath my eyelids
walking abruptly, in patterns unknown,
there are things which makes no sense
a loose river like madness
a loose butter like sky slipping from my white hands,
my hands which are now counting the marks of my footprints
making a spiral knot about this moments,
this momentary void inside of me,
this permanent injuries inside of me.
as everything engulfs everything
the violence in its own chest
the cold murder of my hands
and the body still counts the days left to breathe.
 I wrote my poetry book – Crimson Skins out of pain, love, despair. Hope you like it too. Links can be checked out here- IT’S AVAILABLE AT HALF THE COST ON POTHI.:) I have posted the reviews for my book in past posts, check it out if you are skeptical. I would appreciate it.
Crimson skins – US
Crimson Skins- POTHI
Subscribe to my newsletter- https://tinyletter.com/my_valiant_sou

the women of my time

Dreamy Spring/Summer Inspo - Album on Imgur

The women of my time spend too much time thinking,
thinking about the leftover foods
the leftover oil, cucumbers and what not
The women of my time speak a vacant language
a kind of verbiage which makes you stutter
they have a lost glory eyesight
they wish to see things yet falls on a flat surface.
The women of my time are petite and so full.
Full of things that break a human heart,
a cupboard full of memories disguised as polaroids,
fancy teacups clinging the sounds of romance
Arteries of lust flowing
lust for things beyond your skin.
They do not tuck in emotions in their garments.
Hot spaced cheeks splashing words of mahogany
the hem of skirts always full of raisins and butter.
The women of my time eat wounds like spices
more precious than the silver gems
their robes
all shades of the sunset, transformation of a child, maybe.
watching her swath their eyes becomes terrible often
terrible as watching a melting moon.
Women of my time prepare a soft warm water bath for themselves
to swim,
to eat the sins,
to eat something beyond the plastic walls,
they do shiver
yet they do not pause here.
The women of my time are goddesses: a figurative speech about liberation.
They sit and watch the open sky as if they have the light in their puerile palm.


If you like this do consider checking out my poetry collection on-Amazon. And on Pothi– India


Read my new published work here Modern Literature

subscribe to my newsletter for some amazing poetry here- tinyletter.com/my_valiant_soul

Countless


 
 
 

 How many times do I shift my bodily postures?
 from a room so cold, so absolute,
 to a room full of hopes.
 There is a never -ending system
 of dying things in here.
 I move like a ‘banjaran’ 
 wishing for dead leaves,
 painted auburn sky
 sunlight hitting my pale, loose skin,
 I move to hide my burnt scar,
 throbbing now
 layers of cold ripped moths biting each other.
 How many times do I slip from this moment?
 wrapped into a crochet woven by memories,
 How many times do I defy my existence?
 Fragments of red – like winters forming on my chest.
 How many I times I become countless?
  
  (banjaran- a wanderer)
  
   

I would appreciate if you could check out my poetry collection Crimson Skins through the links below. Read it on Kindle maybe? Share and spread.:)

https://store.pothi.com/book/devika-mathur-crimson-skins/- INDIA

Crimson skins- US

CRIMSON SKINS- BOOK DEPOSITORY

subscribe to my therapeutic newsletter- https://tinyletter.com/my_valiant_soul

Did you read ‘Crimson Skins’?

In the month of August I published my poetry collection ‘Crimson Skins’ which you can check out on all the major online stores. I am proud of my book, for the love it received.:)

A review-

Crimsons skins is a collection of beautifully written poems and proses by Devika Mathur revolving
around several themes of life brought out with effective metaphors. Devika Mathur is an indie writer
with her works published in various journals all across the globe. The first poem ‘olive skin’ is a
wonderful start to the array of poems, every poem more poignant and detailed than the last one. If you
lack imagination, this would be a tough nut to crack but those with a flowing imagination can indulge in
this ingenious journey with every turning page. I specifically enjoyed the complicated but honest
metaphors that were embedded in her poems. Some of the lines cut too deep, almost making you
devour every word to understand how hauntingly beautiful it is.

– Manya Upadhyay Author of -Every Part of me

You can grab your copies by clicking on the following links and if you do please do not forget to leave a review.:)

https://www.bookswagon.com/book/crimson-skins-devika-mathur-candice/9781951724030

Get a signed copy of my book- Crimson Skins

I just received my author copies of “Crimson Skins“. If anyone interested in receiving a signed copy of my book please let me know as soon as possible. The books will be available at discount, also along with my signature.

If in case you wish to read the collection sometimes in future, support this fellow artist by adding the book in your cart for future reading.

Crimson Skins Amazon Us

Crimson Skins India

Book Depository

Available as kindle, worldwide.

Happy reading. Let me know your views.:)

A few facts about Loneliness

mandifaye.com
credits-pinterest

My loneliness spews from the dark curtains

/ fevering beneath a molted lampshade, running

amidst the hanging treehouse, a sharp blue gong of a temple.

Upon the arrival of next month, my tongue develops a sickness,

                           I sit

I stand

                          I sit

In a nonchalant abrupt way,

          Defying the lucid crispness of nights,

I carry a storm of perforated stars in my womb,

delivering a slick wall of hope, again till the next month arrives.

I have a list of ways in which I take care of myself-

                          Practicing gratitude till the eyes die out of numb shocks,

Watching the surreal wings of birds, till I am being judged

And the process never ends,

Till the process of death is shining on my iris.

———————————————————————–

Buy my poetry collection ‘ Crimson Skins’ here- U.S

And for Indian readers buy your copies here-

The book is available as Kindle as well as on Barnes and Noble, Book Depository.

Happy reading.:)

Thank You!

A day before yesterday, I noticed how my blog got more than 5k subscribers and I never got an opportunity to sit and express my gratitude to all those who have supported me in all my thick and thins. Thank you for believing in my words and my mind. There is a lot that can happen over a cup of coffee and poetry and I hope you have enjoyed the journey with me so far in reading and writing poetry and prose. I am stoked to see the kind of love I accumulated over the past 2 and half years, it really makes me wholesome. I am trying my best in catching up with maximum blogs that I can. The WordPress algorithm has apparently changed a lot now.

Also, thank you for all your lovely wishes for my just released book- Crimson Skins

which you can check out India- here- and UK here.

Crimson Skins is curated with utmost sincerity and hope that my readers can cherish my words. The collection took a whole lot of my energy and I am proud to say I survived so many things while I was in the process. This book will not disappoint you if you resonate with my poetry.

Thank you for being a part of my writing journey! Take care.

(I will be sharing my newsletter soon, just taking a small break since I can easily be anxious).

Raindrops

thesensualdominant“Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks....

we slumber through days
of moist observations
of things unspoken of.
An organ. A transparency..
there are things beyond our two nutty eye
to cling a mouth full of love,

Raindrops
that cascade through my fragile shoulders
through my heavy white bosom

that
speaks of you
speaks of sin
speaks of white emptiness
raindrops sweet and soft
unravels a story of mother’s womb.
so much beyond and so much less.

What do I ask for now?
peace or lust from you?
A landscape. A delusion.
I write this to pleat my unevenness
to fool you into believing
about our eloping mad love.


Hi, Hope you all are doing well. Let me know how did you enjoy my this poem in the comments below.