Halt

A cold mouth of air,
streaming down the rivers up till my painted toes.
I see a circled pair romancing behind the surface of the sky.
A cold distilled breaths.
Pure. Fixating, like a rubber band.

Far away from this orange sunset.
I hear umbrellas holding a hand of a detached one.
They support and smile. Simple.
Slowly, steadily like a geranium blooming after ages of scuffed earth.

Hums heard in the quietness of the diaphragm.
Subtle potions of looped lips,
speaking a language of gods.
Serene and mysterious.
poets standing on the ebb of satisfaction. Halt.
There, you, halt.

NaPoWriMo-4

In the sky.

we look at the same clouds.
the same loose hanging blue tint of our elbow.
we sniff the same sky,
the paper balls of dreams.
ah, it reminds me of your whole body.
a map cascading through your hairline to your hip.

a sky resides there too.
The water. The rain.
The crinkling sheets of staircase.
the steps that go mad.
mad/ inflated/ swing.

i often want to hold your breath
between my palms, a souvenir of Cupid’s.
or maybe preserve and turn in into a vintage burp.
oh yes, i can swallow this sky.
i can swallow you.
for we both are liquid,
between the squirming gasps.

there is a corner of Life.
up in the grey, lava, fat sky.
we shall meet like dust, like a sound.
like a pool of soft indentation.
up there.
in the sky.
between the
calamitous whiff and your black eyes.


Soaked lips

these lips utter a pause of lipids
time after after
like a powdery cough.
 they bloom and shatter
 with details,
 wisdom of lush lights
 a fluid, a shade,
 a soft sunset resting on my backbone

Each petal a dandelion of rays,
 imperative words
 upwards and sidewards,
 spitting veins dipped in blue ink
 blue sky...a blue world.
 Porcelain drops of dew
Like lust to wax
A moments of spurring thoughts
Defying existence, one by one.

©MVS

veins


i have words, letters , synonyms
hanging like branches of temple.
point of emotions. wars.
i am not alive, i am hanging like joints.
these ephemeral stages that are bulbs during the day.
for no reason, i am damp and moist.
Forest with twigs lit my entire body.

Is it the poetry spreading like a disease now?
i see no moon…i see only a Point.
point of love. Matrices. Sky impregnated with moisture.

Co-exists

It sits there
with wallowing lips of seal
parched leaf, rotating.

lives born out of it.
swallowing the sudden deaths,
inumerous threads of bruises.

walls break, people die
like petunia’s deluging sigh
cleaved mouths of love.

wreckage & survival
spilling its flow inside,
duality co-exists.
i splash the black spot,
i smash the black spot.
Madness exists.

©Image and words MVS


Consistent


The perimeter of music delivers
 a song to remember
 like my elongated legs
 with blemishes and scars.

Bend it, inhale it
 it suffices the moment,
 the parts and lies.

Life's beauty is in slithering
 like a river flow
 that takes nothing but delivers
 million muted lessons to live by.
 Memories and laughters.
 Soft bruises, soft kisses.

Pause and reverse,
 A microphonic song,
 humming and screaming
 ceaseless motion
 of blue skies,
 cerulean stagnant hands of rain.
 It utters a rhyme.
 it utters Poetry.

©Image and words- Devika Mathur/ MVS

Cease and breathe

self

Cease and breathe
the essence dripping, red like bird’s paw
emulsifying,
You are the spot, crooked and tangerine
So how do you mark your sins?

••••

Cease and count your curves,
red, pink and blues
your honey-dripping eyes,
facepalmed voice, mirrors bustling.

•••

Stand stagnant, dip into memories
you are a flower seed
A banshee of ghosts quiver
inside your language of lust
inside your pain of more and more.

•••

Cease and breathe,
with tip-toed mercury eclipse
kiss the moth
kiss and burp, your painted nails
red as nature’s love.


©image and words-MVS

#NaPoWriMo-5

Yellow Hollows



Spitting, patting

flower of titanium.

lip-locked, verbiage sonogram

With shadows of hurricanes

dripping blood,

moth-like opening.

sweet and resolute.

Hear the thoughts,

dissecting silence

like an umbilical cord

unfurling,

oozing,

The tips of bud

and bottoms of

butt,

clinging, parasitic love.

parasitic hate

both entwined,

both subsisting.

in your clockwise tongue

of spits and spits.

image and words-©MVS

Salt water mixed with air

My squinting eyes evolve and illuminate the seeds and seedlings of us. Germination and hibernation. It’s stillness spinning on my cracking bones and lips. Thunders push forward my footprints, marking sand and sand-dunes of time like a canopy or translucent umbrella of opaque dreams. It’s treacherous. Banal and vixen kisses to tell you. The door-knobs even pique and cringe if this bellybutton delivers abhorrence of time and scars.

I have been bitten and marked. Denouement spoke to my tongue. I had a liquid conversation with the hinges of my black bed and cottons of white pillow, it scared me like a colossal tornado.I had inexplicable seizures that year and was hustled with a silver spoon to keep me alive. And I survived and lived.
Sustenance mingles with the Universe to crack your spine always.

I tasted salinity and guns. With thorns and lotus opening up in my callous floral palms. These small, little white palms.
Tides often slow down and flush waters only after a big cyclone. And, I learned something.


©Image and words MVS