sense of staying- a poem

Hi, Welcome to my poetry world yet again. I guess we all have no better solution rather than staying positive and hopeful. I am glad to feel this positive vibe yet again after all that India has been through and is still dealing. I am trying to do as much as I can and that includes taking care of my mental health as well.

Sharing a poem. Let me know your views and in general how life has been treating you all?:)

And maybe this shall never end-
Here, I rest my palms along with the stars,
honey-suckled, 
twigs of sunsets
hoping for tree of wishes
a spoon of lukewarm winters
which sits beside my small mind
a roar of summer breeze,
producing so much that only my heart can see,
 and maybe this shall never end-
yet I long for coral sweaters,
grass 
                attachment layered sky
above and below-
           the dreamcatchers
            in the grainy rain.
Our mouths unravelling
and spitting a tongue of hibiscus growing
scrubbing:
scrubbing all the sins away
lights spinning- gold,
poppies in a bathtub
and leaves fluttering across our bodies-
we want this,
           a human touch
a human being, indeed.

If you love reading my poems and works you might enjoy my book Crimson Skins. I can’t believe it is soon going to be an year for my book and each time I hold my baby, I am choked with pride. You can get your copies on Kindle, Amazon, Pothi etc.

sharing links-

Crimson skins – US
Crimson Skins- POTHI
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Life Update

It has been a long time since I have interacted with my WordPress readers.

I hope everyone is doing fine or just surviving things at the their best level. It’s okay if this year did not start with a kick for you. Trust your timings! I am trying to reset my mindset with slow living. Trying and making goals at a slow space and it’s a different yet beautiful progress for me.

I am curious to learn about any new life update that has happened to you. Your plans, goals, anything? Recently I enjoyed the book “The Untethered Soul” and it has molded me in such a artistic way. If you need some relaxation, you should check out that book.

Lastly, I am chuffed to inform about my poetry publication in the mammoth anthology ‘The Kali Project’ which includes the poetry/ art of Indian Female poets. The project was a unique call about the power of feminism and goddess Kali. I am grateful to Candice and Megha for this opportunity. You can get your copies through Amazon, Pothi, if interested.

I produced my 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.

Crimson skins – US

Crimson Skins- POTHI

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I will be writing more poetry here soon, till then drop your lovely feedbacks in my comments .

Thanks

Devika

On Dreams

L o r e e e h h

Night breaks apart like thousand skies on Earth
with a hint of mauvish whisper
the whisper spills everywhere
enveloping things around me.

Dreams create illusion of being permanent
of sticking to the odd times
with a mayhem stuck to the air.

You would wish to sit and digest
each tiny aspect of dreams
with a mind of a spider
trying to decode the methods
but you would end up missing on your pills.

                       It does not matter
                           anymore
the warm shade of conclusions
till the time your hands are rooted in the soil
till the time you hands feel the pain,
yellow or orange.

There is something to change the blood into passion,
dreams that becomes nightmares
colours that become a chalice of poison.

It does not matter.

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A prayer to hope

Bijay Parida - Krishna Comes to Persuade Radha (Geru) @ The ...

Cities left like empty vases,
soundless minds,
a spot once full
looks ghastly.

Run, run, run
to the places unknown
hiding beneath the carcass of nature,

Sit, observe and run
to the places that are quiet now.

Learn from the two-fold mystery of God,
they do it like a yard spinning.
Do not fear,
this pool is a rubber band,
the more you stretch, the more it shall get you.

Clench the fist of the thing you see next now,
yes, a rope,
a pill,
a prayer,
but do not stop.
you have to live like a sussurous hymn.


Wrote after the super cyclone- Amphan.

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The flight

Yeh Seedhi Sadhi Chori Sharabi Ho Gayi | via Tumblr

Where does it go?
Your unspoken word of lust,
an ensemble of parched dancing words,
Do you let them run?
Or do you absorb the guilt, like a sponge?

Harvest the other sides of pixie lawn now,
Run… run along the shores
embossing a pain onto the sand.

Among the stars is a paper flower blooming,
with a binomial tongue to speak.
The star and the earth do not suffice your sparkle.
Pelican featured sunset glows.

Slurp and slurp.
The agony hides behind the crevices of teeth.
Churn your fear like a betel leaf,
Take a flight,
Like the bunch of sun-kissed memories.

A purple picture

Stuning! - #planodefundo #Stuning
What is that sits on my backbone?
a dissection of reality/
Look around. Pause. Breathe,
 walk across this painted room.
A purple heartbeat,
veins of the neon moon glowing,
a facet of criss-cross dreams,
amniotic sheets of sun-baked earth,
observe, wait, observe.
It's an alchemy of genius masterpiece.

Circle

That’s life.

Run among the Autumn leaves. Run among your cascading bruises. The skin that is swollen now, the eyes which are full of jaundice, even if fingernails fall. Run.

Beneath the tree, under the valley, rub your scars, screech, shout, rub your scars again till you faint , naked facing the mirror of life.

To die or not to die, we all came to buy the bourbon once. The stale cracking lies you hold, the mask that you spit each day, dark, humid drums.

I carry in my mind, the eyelids yearning to be opened now. The electricity of sugar and salt concoction.

Take a pause. Survive. Ascend, Descend. Burn the walls like floating miseries.

Fall in Love with the fireworks inside your mind. Defeat. Put fog inside your collar bone, powder your dreams. Choose colours again. Red, mauvy red, Magenta.

Splash the cold water, like opening poetry lines, oh now you get me?

Run, Discover. This is life.

Entrance

READ about: THREE RIVERS DEEP book series on FACEBOOK @ https://www.facebook.com/threeriversdeepbooks?ref=aymt_homepage_panel  ***A two-souled girl begins a journey of self-discovery...   (pic source: https://www.pinterest.com/freepeople/fleur/ )
Pinterest

Between your dewy lips and wet time
 I see clocks of white hills
 humming skins, throbbing breaths
 pure, symmetrical breaths.

Inside the tempestuous wilderness
 of your eyelids and thumbnail
 A reflection of paradise exists.

Once again, the frozen earth erupts now
 holding chills, heat and rains all inside
 sulking the primordial fights
 and blossoming tiny weeds of hope.

In the moisture of inks and skies
 Indexation of our inundated words occur
 Hysteria, Incantations, Contentment

™My Valiant Soul

heart-a -staircase

desire••••

I could dissolve and dismantle both in your arms. Your concave dripping horizon. Here, sweet nectars of a word, alliteration efflorescences. Poultice killing ant-eaten wound. I put my oblong waist inside your palms to catch the last nights fits and sins, sinister. You breathe effortlessly, like a paper chewing the drops of rain, steadily and I watch you smoking naked. I shrink, cinnamon fingers dipped in writing as I paint you in my slivers of lost chills. I see you marking my territory, with hazelnuts and pepper, cracking one by one. You announce me your wild bitch.The galaxy ruptures between your words and my forehead mole. We are all sinners.
loss••••

I am awake, in the cauldrons of your magic that rubs my backbone, similar to the mountain ranges romancing with the sunshine. The spikes and fumes drove me madcap when my arm flew in the vapid motionless air. It was your A B S E N C E. The air balmy and dead. I roamed naked and baked naked. with my face sagging beyond the levels of my bosom. It was Saturday and your A B S E N C E.
healing••••

And, it is a fixation now. Crystal studded your eyes with my silhouette, marrying my body from that broken pale toe to my hair. I circle and hover my dandelion legs to sense the reality, the sun-baked air filled with our fabled romance and memories. The room is a temple and this is the reality.


image and words©MVS- Something new that I tried!

NaPoWriMo#17

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

Evolution

Alcohol on my newly-born skin,
Do you see the patterns and the checks, the spotted wings?
I lick this ferocious almond scales on my skin, counting the pores
And I measure the breadth and length, obtaining details of details.

The oak tree knows the dents and paints
in the surreal landscape, where people romance
The lavender fields twist in its imperfection,
it sees black, grey, black, grey.

We travel and remorse like a soaked cotton ball in hallucinations,
We learn and emancipate, we gulp metamorphosis
and stack our bodies with memories, rub eyelids to breathe.
We survive and smoke, smoke till the moon spits anger, guilt to our innocence if any.
We are a floating wax of titanium spirits yet we fear cravings. Solivagant in dreams.

I suck the sand, the colourful dust and lips of my lover
I suck the galaxy of you and me.
I know, this arithmetic of us and time. We will evolve too.


©My Valiant Soul

Words

Related image

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.

As-I-Worship-Winter

 

image credits- Pinterest

 

Romancing with winter involves more than seduction to its frosty night. There is a pit darker inside the walls of a colossal ball of shadow. A shadow where skins of lost soul bloom. A pool of infinite kisses. The chills of silent lustrous night expand in the most imposing manner, like the feathers of peacock romancing with the rain.

The icing on the cherry-trees, the dew of the moon stuck to my window panes that resemble my naked face. Oh, I am beautiful.

Emancipation from the shallow hollows of palm, I see patterns of sweet nectar dripping from the sky, drip by drip, onto my cheekbones and I am a lyric once again.

The full moon shares its forlorn stories to my healing lips. I am a partner in solitude and war. It teaches me the art of sustenance—flourishing like the wild sunflower. The touches of laughter of the newly born, the spiritual talks of the old ladies, dedicate me more to the flowers of Winter.

I emerge from the last rains and beneath the elasticity of murmurs, I inhale potions of infinite joy.

©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


 

Blue Light

 

Related image
image credits-google

 

Turquoise skin flowing beneath the
reflection of the concave mirror,
speaking the language of  mammoth desires,
forming marks on the human soul.
The surreptitious lustre blithe the chilly touch
corroding the sides and there I stand
inhaling the crisp blue air,
decoding, unfolding life’s intense
burrows, choking into blue whispers,
I slap my tongue, tapping, brushing.
Pushing my parched mouth to vomit
black ashes and colliding into
this blue velvet dress,
that soaks the vapid apprehensions,
nurturing it to be a cherry-tree
masked as the new light, a feathers’ delight.