these lips utter a pause of lipids time after after like a powdery cough. they bloom and shatter with details, wisdom of lush lights a fluid, a shade, a soft sunset resting on my backbone Each petal a dandelion of rays, imperative words upwards and sidewards, spitting veins dipped in blue ink blue sky...a blue world. Porcelain drops of dew Like lust to wax A moments of spurring thoughts Defying existence, one by one. ©MVS
I was the one
with bruises and stones
in my mirror-eyed reflection
a reflection of you, mother
the cacophony of time and hours
floating inside your eyes,
the heaviness of pebbles and rituals.
Your arm mocked your cerulean breast,
with its swollen stigma of memoirs
and some pictures, vintage.
I combed your concave mouths
of dripping forlorn fractures,
like a staircase bleeding
or a topology reversed and processed.
I am a soft song in your black-knitted bun
a piece of your chipped nail,
a sunflower, kissed and harassed
inside your turbulent head.
A cauldron, and a day full of nights
hid beneath your muffled chin,
a mole hanging beneath your shouts and dim- dreams.
Mother, you are a pool of madness
and a point blank.
Obscure, shadowy your tongue knits tears
and a sweet thread of touch, impeccable.
Sometimes, I glint in your orange censure
a pattern of love and you,
Your body is a dream.
and I fall in your loops of laps.
the uncontrollable seizures,
the uncontrollable laughters,
Scarlet red wires.
it’s all you, it’s all you.
This Skin is transparent, like a stitch to spew, to flatter the moments of despair. The bruises occur, with an open mouth an empty sheet of braided dreams this skin claps and claps with a bowl of spewing lotus, and a hollow dripping hocus-pocus Peppermint& honey drops with earbuds sagging, this skin melts, in the oceanic mouth of yours. Or this skin divides in my repetitive sins and sins. I gasp and pray till my body collapse with a dying hint of clove, wafting breeze of paddy fields this skin smiles. Like polaroids humming in the crux of my immune skin.
Your belligerent electric eyes
of swamps and tea bags
like vapours & death
picking my hair strands
to dissect me further,
oh you, mouth of monster
& shadow of half-naked moon.
i lie on my bed & count my reverse
motionless screams, words, screams
here in this room of death & poetry.
chapters of skin peeling, numb iris,
transparent lips of missing skies
i forlorn my ankles
of you and me.
and shiver the scoundrel body.
for this body is a madhouse.
like a concave arm of wax
dripping insanity, clocks
bells and words crooked-pungent.
A mesh of poetry ascends in my scalp of lights
the place punctured by your visits often,
in my nocturnal nights of anxiety and suicides.
You step on to my body, peeling layers
of SCARS\ and you watched POETRY\
C A S C A D I N G
in molten, mountain flush of hours.
I am not dead if that’s what you mean—
There are splinters of time and flower
the raw ageless faces of skin,
goblet eye of evil-
here moon meets sun,
and earth meets my soul
it’s a travesty of you and me
rather than what you did to me.
I have seen the postcards of vintage ink
our lotus bodies sinking like air,
tropical destinations, with kisses side by side
I ate your nails, your fingers, your dirt
defying existence of deads & deads.
Now, my finger bleeds fungus,
crochet of inhuman trepidations.
I still hang you in my mirrors
behind my bed, behind my eyelids.
I still see your insanity
C A S C A D I N G
©MVS – NAPOWRIMO#19
Do not cross your doubts in my face of trees
Humongous rocks piling and shattering altogether
I am a cloak of shadow, hiding and humming chants
to release my sanity, blue waters of Mediterranean hunger
Clap my soul, and find the twinnings of pieces of glass
Fixated on the roots of my birthplace, insanity clamours.
Reds and Blacks
the sheets of night,
Liquor and it’s all forms
enticing and questioning
I knock my mind, to check the sanity
and words perch like a thick rope
entangling and pressing my blood,
knots and knots and knots
I check for my sanity now each day
for people melt into my mind, askew drawings
and then question my sanity.
That I am afraid of the sunshine that sticks to my forehead often
ringing darkness as its ghost, or the beam of the heavy eyelid
The mannequins of transparent aches I have
Throttle the rim of my soft neck, and my skin sinks
in the reds and blues of waterfall reverse.
My fingers might chip and my dress might slip
Vertically in the horizons of your wide eye
The spots under the cleft of my chin are misty scars if you see
Defeated. Mended. Hands of the clock.
Times of quietness sticks to my mouth always, seeking a surreal cryptic language
I eat this paw of time, drinking the remains of memories
and then spawl, scorch, make a night- shift.
I conjure your breaths like papers of old Poetry onto the
cracks of my lips, my jawline to seize you in this verse
I am paranoid, choking on pills and pills and some more pills
I am an overrated drug of numbness and quietness,
biting the hollows of my palm.
Oh dear, Understand this.
Apprehensions sink in the dark cloudy layers
like the kohl of my waterline, the kohl of my heart
I am a clown or that saint of the temple, for people misjudge me
With deposition of tears, I shall settle too
in the obnoxious satin walls of turbulent words
Something swells up on my neck, triangles and diversion.
The wax of candles is stuck to my mind,
dripping anger or illusion
the folds of my bedsheet recall my tear
perfectly imbued with the corrosive words, the abuses.
I decay again.
With hallucinating fingers of forecasting
I counted your skin and your mouth and I counted you
Your mouth poured water on my soiled heart, almost a surreal thing.
And you buttered my hair, my lips, my hips
with cerulean droplets of your vintage mirror.
I saw you taking vodka and pills while sobbing
near the cliff, near the swollen ebb,
near the Earth
to see him departing you and bisecting you
like old cassettes and used carpets
he played the keys of the mundane monopoly game,
Oh, I saw you circling your eyes
with oceans of thunders and clinging dirt
you ate so ferociously the whole dinner by yourself
like you wanted nothing but this food
and the platter was already full of brass and copper.
Mother, mother, mother
I see a soliloquy of sustenance sinking
right on the joints of your tongue
and extending deep down to your tottering chipped toenail
I have drunk the milk your poured me
rummaging the past bonds, the past sorrows
like the splitting of peas and dicing of peas.
I always wanted to surround you, Mother
And then, the time came I saw you emulsifying
Saturating and desiccating
With a cigar in your mouth, you wanted to bleed prayers
Ransacking these walls of thesis and soft love
you wished to melt and melt and melt
I sat and saw you, still scavenging your unsaid words
your love, your molten body
like Jaipuri studded skirts.
I wanted to weep and splash reality that day
in the spirits of my hallucinating verses.
But, you did not care Mother,
You melted anyway.
Disintegrating into tiny molecules
Apodictic stack of liquidized oxygen,
I watch the flame of burning candle,
Watching myself tremble and shake
With its every movement, counting the segments
Of my heart
Palliating toothpick sticks to my deep slumber,
Waking me up to sustenance,
Waking me up to these painted walls.
I am made of church bells, with each strike
I am conscious, murmuring to the chords and veins,
having the atmosphere in my mouth
Outer horizons of Cerebrum are perhaps a mystery yet,
I struggle each day to listen to the whistles and puzzles
Rupturing beneath this thin membrane,
Floating still in congruence with anxiety.
©My Valiant Soul