Empty Spaces

My motif heart breaks
like a pool of ugliness,
Last night’s love, now a vintage memory
how you mock my love, irritates me.
i revolve like an Earth,
sticking to the mollusc
and petunias
and i fall.
fall like a group of galaxy
wild animals biting my skin
and I see you nowhere.
Nowhere inside me.
Nowhere uplifting my heavy stoned-arm.

You put me on bed
like an Old Wine to taste
till it drips and bursts.
Torrential streams of rivers of insanity.
I weep like a duck.
I weep like a drunk night.
(Soothing itself with its own light)
I weep and break.

You may ask the perforated sky
with drops of atoms
ripped apart from my chest
like the plunged rose, or honey-nectar.
A void in the sun.
A void in the star. Barren faces of slick dust.
And you will see where you left me.
Empty Spaces.


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.

Black pain & walls

i have fallen with troops of maniac
inside this cold body
disappearing jawbones of sins
and masters of death
residing inside this globe,
the pool of ataxia,
the pool of coherence
with red pale evenings
growing,
chilling,
breaking,
falling,

Abstruse thumbs of broken lines
making me thaw,
ice-cold teeth
cracking on black grounds,
with lonesome stars,
knitting my naked body
like a work of brilliance,
spider's- job,
still, i fall this time...
i fall & it hurts.

®MVS

nights that talk of you

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


As a mind bleeds

You would bleed mentally,

axis by axis

to know my aching cheeks and lips.

they do not flutter, engulfed in smokes

my  mouth, volatile and dark

i am a pattern of transition 

disgusted each day, 

separation of tongues divides

these breasts once supple,

i am a sliced  burning moon

only diced further,

till i dismantle my nerves.

I will die a walnut death— with cracks

and dust flooding my brain.

©MVS

NaPoWriMo#11

P.S-I did not take care of punctuations, deliberately because i was too lazy to do it. And i do not care!

Point Zero

If i tell you my bones crackle, coarse carbon black

each time i sit and turn

would you slit a piece of the moon and ask her to mollify my pain?

my hands’ quiver and the elbow aches, screams and shouts as i ink my pain

like a heavy layered pile of stones resting on my newborn thigh

bending my earlobe down…down…

too much healing, prayers

chants and oil

i wither and desiccate in the flick of the time,

i am human, i weep and wipe

with a swollen cotton, yellow  glass or a paper

I am hushed and quiet like a falling star

Pain is my new muse, chopping my chin

till i am at point blank.


Anonymous

Like fresh breaths and cinnamon aroma
I wrapped your almond curve of palms,
preserving it into my oceanic eyes
Monsoon lilies. Iterative Petrichors.
I swallowed your words,an Orion of kisses

Only to know you will chop the slices of apple,
bit by bit
Smudging the sweetness, smudging the rhythms,
smudging my dreams.