I know I generally don’t do awards but this time I made it an exception mainly because I wanted to answer something about myself as I am in the process of Self- discovery. Many thanks to tinarosepoetry for nominating me for the same.
- Thank blogger(s) who nominated you in the blog post and link back to their blog.
- Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
- Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
- List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or on your blog.
- What is your favourite thing about being a blogger or writer?
I feel like blogging is the process of Catharsis for me. It relieves a lot of pain and anxiety making me feel better. The favourite thing shall be writing without giving a damn!
- Where do you get your writing and blog post inspiration from?
My darkness is enough to inspire me.
- Who inspires you the most in your life?
My mind. And if we talk about a person- Audrey Hepburn to an extent.
- How do you deal with writers’ block?
I go crazy then sip a cup of coffee. Then reverse the whole procedure until I am sane to think again.
- What is your favourite thing in the world?
Staying happy and writing.
- What is your mantra?
Expect nothing from anyone and You shall be at peace.
- Best place you have travelled to and why?
None so far to compare. I want more to make me happy.
- Where would you love to travel to in the future?
Paris. Seychelles of course.
- If you were allowed only one item on a desert island what would it be?
A journal perhaps?
- If you had five wishes what would they be?
- World Peace
- My wish to be successful in writing a bunch of poetry books.
- Loving myself more and more.
- Living a couple of months in a tree house, alone.
- Travelling more.
- If you could be anyone for a day, who would you be?
Pablo Neruda, I really want to get inside his way of thinking.
- How do you define success?
- Your favourite blogger/writer?
- 3 things you wish to have right now?
- How do you deal with anxiety, if any?
- Your current favourite passion?
- A dark poetry or love poetry?
- How do you manifest your mind into things more philosophical?
- What inspires you to write?
Ah, that’s all. I really can’t think any other questions as for now.
I feel so different right now to do such a post because mine is an award free blog. But anyways!
Thank you for reading so far.
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.
INSTAGRAM- MY VALIANT SOUL
My fingers are our lips,
deluged & soaked
in our memory of sunset walls,
with an eye of the heart,
scavenging our skin,
altogether, in patterns,
i want to be your mouth
with soft pearls of moth,
i want all of your body.
image& words ©MVS
a birthmark & a taboo
i am a lavish smile of smirk
you incubated me & my head
with soils of murder and hatred
sins of monster & coal of coals.
to kiss your dark soul
i swim like a starfish,
concurrent currents floating
inside my solitary knee-bone
see it, feel it, sniff it
chop it. chop it. chop it
it Shall again appear with
half sun and half moon rays.
like a starfish singing,
unveiling the balmy metaphors
crooked though plumbed
in your anxious fingers of blood
in your anxious mouth of dirt.
The day I shed my skin,
what will it be named and scored
The table of mahogany, the scent of yellow stained old papers
the blanket now white would be turned crisp golden
Mosaic moments Transparent fragrance Cold evenings
With time as a poking device on my cheekbones
I would shed some pieces of satiation, hunger
on the nape of my thin neck,
Screams, lipid screams and tongues of unborn voices.
Knives as powerful as life,
will slap me with cuts and honesty
Stating the end of pavements, the end of seashore walks
Strangulating noises will go missing in my head,
That writer’s block will be missed as colossal as a thunder.
dropping sounds of Sonnets. Wheels of bleeding pale ink gushing my veins.
Thirst of a parched desert, Oval eyes seeping thrush blue waters.
I will be ashes and the rest will be an Ode
With sagging back, my lips will shout “POETRY”
Emulating peachy air of life- death
I will be a memoir and a tribute
I will be someone or something, in circles and loops.
The day I shed my skin.
These circles of fingers
and skins and bones,
and something beneath the bones,
rub rub rub
something beneath the thoughts of thoughts
burns, and sins and sins.
Crooked dripping lies,
exhausting this naked galaxy
heaviness obviates fireflies
thoughts thoughts thoughts
Stinking and swelling,
I am a pause.
P.S- I might have missed writing on WordPress yet my insta is updated with the challenge.
“I HAVE LEARNED THAT I STILL HAVE A LOT TO LEARN”- MAYA ANGELOU
Cracking my pieces of delusions, with your fainted memory
like auburn leaves of sun rays,
with autumn diluted in veins of winters,
I wander and travel my electrolyte body,
time and again.
In the wilderness of my pituitary,
tongues of vague currents
erupting from my caged chest
a criss-cross of the eye, a criss-cross of mouth,
inexplicable waves thunder my jaws
and you reside in a big hollow of truth.
I am a summer weed,
waxed and shaved and fainted,
I swell and fell, again with a needle’s spine
to understand the resistance of lies,
My backbone twitches, my moth-shaped eye
I hallucinate, blinded, drugged, erected
and I swivel like a sickle of time.
Hundred lipped mouths, wet and poppies
exist in our cities of rains and puddles
Throbbing eyes, milky jolts,
with lush moments of air and air,
Crisp, transparent, the air.
Peeling layers of our shaved skin,
sun-kissed scars and plateaus of the mole.
I smirk and rise like molten frames,
with eyes skinning past memories of lust,
Eulogies swinging, comrades of dandelion.
I knit your lips to my vainglorious body
for the fingers count your aches and twists,
I dilute in your convergence and liquid formation
Hourglass, my silhouette sinking.
You expand your inundate fingers,
they hallucinate my feminity,
with orgasmic temples,
caressing green fields, my stomach
undrapes, silk gowns floating.
aurora candle-lit stars,
my polar body diverged, fluttering
with caskets of thin films
of smokes and kiss.
He had me for the next few hours like a missing crack from the cloud. A circle of memories sewn in the skin and mouth. We had kissed like cushions melting. Beyond, him my poetry never extended to a third eye. All these years we kept alive each other, lotus defying the existence of swamp. We licked butter from each other’s dripping mouth and lips. Sanguine ways tethered onto our veins and body. We have clicked our arms like a daydream. Fireflies evolving inside our eyes. He counts my finger and mark my tenderness with his territory. It’s luscious. My cadaverous toenails covered in his manliness disappears in a land still oblivion.The river outside flatters and stagnates. He has watched me all naked when I combed my auburn hair, sat and wept. Ataxia does cringe your body and makes it epileptic, mind eating heart. He had seen it all.
His sky blue eyes never lied to mine. Flapping, moist love still rocked the yellows and blues of the sky. I did shatter and chanted obscene thoughts and became a hoop of despair and congruent potent clay. Our walls and ceilings have witnessed our lips sulking and eyes moistening like a sunflower confirming the sunrise. A yellow brawny confirmation. Beliefs do that. They incubate your soul with a tale carved like poetry. Rainwater instilling magic and a clear view. Cobwebs disappearing
And I dedicate my whole galaxy-stellar body, with moisture intact to him.
PS – To my love.
I am silvered and stickered
in the blue’s of despair
hunting my scalp
down to the ankle stain,
For the roads are a summer breeze
tropical, slapping my coarse breast
the humming is repetitive.
like insanity clicking
Viscous walks defy my extinction.
The roars and shouts, scrapping my last
single bit of blood
my last single ounce of sleep.
my last single mouth of chalks and blackboard.
©MVS image and words