Breathe.

I am nocturnal today, like roses building up on my arms
speaking language of Gods. The air is turgescent, dripping lust for words. lust for my beauty. I walk on the arch of windowsills with blue loops of eyes, tingling some sensation. Something unheard before. A voice of metaphors dissolving into my pharynx with lids open. To fly. To breathe.

I curl my lips like romancing with my poetry. With silence dancing on my bosom, sneezing and holding time. Swallowing my body. Words, a conjunction of sanity.
Rhythms and molten patterns of pain and loss. Acceptance and free breath.
I look towards the path of Equinox. Voices speaking untamed fire.
Fire and ice. Ice and pure breaths.

© Image and words MVS

P.s- Also I completed my 2 year anniversary on WP. How amazing is that! Though I did delete my blog once in this span, still I am grateful to this community and my readers.

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As I Pray

Vintage photo

Resolute flames of candle burn on my windowsill

catching your white still fierce memory laughing in the atmosphere,

Tonight, I rebuke the ashes and the time of Thar

to halt, a clock eating another clock somewhere

If I slit tomatoes with you, you shall give me memories and formations.

For you create footsteps and geometry,

Carrying your dainty artistic eyes in the paintings of my body

I replicate you, I replicate your duties, Mother

And I learn the process of Catharsis from your bellybutton

I sew your words to my hairdo, swaying

singing your touch around,

And I pray and pray

like rainbows touching a slice of paradise.

For, I shall always be You.


P.S – To my everything, my Mother.


©MVS

Methods and Ways


Let me sew your linings of solace
onto my blank, numb fingers
like the gasp of a saviour dreaming
Orange, Red Vibrancy
And I pour you into my wine glass
magenta and red my blood splashes
My mascara, discerning and colliding
and I dance and dance

I think of rainbows and you
where my world floats
like the catharsis of words
And I am Divine and Pious
With Intersperse threads of lust
I fill the hollows of my palm and ankle
I sink into your fulgent walls of ambrosia
The softness I eat and gulp.
This is how I worship you.


®MVS

Words

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Today, my writing is divine. With the savage to sink myself in words, I am invincible. Language embellishes me like wrapping petals of roses to the moon. I know my heartbeat today, rapturous, melancholic like almond skin.
I feel the bruises not the scars for scars are permanent ink.
I remember that sad lady lying drunk on the street, I saw myself decaying in her.
I know not today I will be like a dead stone for writing is divine today.
Dragons or mermaids do not alter my dreams. Life shall be Claustrophobic in many ways, where my silver cup of paradise might be scratched.
But I have a tooth of gold to flicker.
I have known the past and the present. I choose wisdom always.
Words created me, for my soul is a rolling stone. I know the pen is my destiny.
Cries, peals of laughter and hunger, I know all.
I have sipped the cup of poison too, so I do not fear, I rise.

©My Valiant Soul


 

Yellow Segments

yellow, aesthetic, and art image
image courtesy Pinterest

I have detached my cellophane dreams with your cold shiverings

Sustenance to moments invite a vaporizing acceptance

My breaths carve my bones as I count the stars,

Hopes can be delusional, hope can be aimless.

It only moulds the opening of my bosom

where a stack of anti-oxidant hid.

The penumbra of opaque sunrays never lie, it portends a fact.

Under the quietness of my mole, a layer of satisfaction arise

Seepage, Integration, Addition.

My skin kisses my lips, I sit and watch the pervasive love

Inside the language of gods, a clock of soft murmur arise

Trusting the humans once again,

trusting the pillow talks again and again.

You are beautiful

Related image
image credits- google

Tear off the mask, your face is glorious”— Rumi

Unscathed beams of sunshine ripple along your pious cheeks,
There lie a canopy of precious words,
decorating your soul with white beauty,
where rivers of unruffled jasmine travel.
The scent is you, like a home of lavender candles
burning your mind, your beautiful mind.
Fabrication of art and beauty lies in your smile
Titanic view of sunrays, a holy reflection of poetry.
Seduction of smells entices your body like an opening of a lotus.
You evolve like the skin of the moon.
So, I become your hidden reflection.

©My Valiant Soul


You are the Art

 

Image result for art
image credits- google

During the nights of summer, I found a bowl of romance, lust in your sinking eyes. So much I read from it. I collected all my wisdom to read your bizarre words. I disclosed a few readings, read your dying cold murmurings like the lost dandelions in a silent winter night. You are a gargantuan lyric of unsaid phrase. So much to draw from you, so much to read from you. You are the Art of survival.

 

In the occurrence of solitude, first, this sunshine broke, telling your unfathomable lost emotions. I heard you still survived with a potion and lotion of memories. The concoction of sweet lips and the nectar is always as chilling as the moist air.

We regenerate from each another, sucking sagacious chants, drawing a pool of concave oblivion laughter. Oh, the touches of laughter you had with the dawn and rains in your lap. I knew you were healing steadily, like the owl lost in its precarious world.

You are as liquid as wax, undefined and countless ways of colours you produce each day. Beatific laurels of splashes of lanterns reside in your auburn smiles. I know, you are a masterpiece.

©My valiant Soul