Time&You

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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.

®MVS

NaPoWriMo#15


Recent Trends

Three Children and Wagon c. 1930s #history             WOW the first sweet picture I have seen with Black and White children.

Some people I see these days are like
broken paragraphs of my poetry
with a missing meter and inconsistent gravity
Detonation of disgust pits and addition of volatile
vodka stammers my insipid vision.
Half moon, half-blood, half mouth covered,
like a decomposition of the great Odyssey.
Some people these days are like
Vintage tributes( but unfamiliar, surreptitious).
With a bumblebee of summery sky,
they bite your pure coltish recently built home
Some people these days exists like this
till they tangle your knots into miseries.


-My valiant soul

image courtesy- Pinterest

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

Stick like a Shadow

Image Courtesy- Self
I cling to your mauvy shadow
 Like an auburn Meraki of stars
 In the meadows of lust,
 In the turbid blue hemisphere
 Seeking your Serendipity of breaths,
 Brushing your knots of cryptic bizarre kiss
 And mixing with my tainted red lipstick.
 Swallowing.  Choking. Yearning.

-My Valiant Soul