1 the first is a spot through which a night shines the first is a mouth like a spot or a spot like a mouth, this confusion happens to me through the atrocities of words, the glass beads of unspoken talks 2 The second is blurred. a garage of broken lives. broached interpretations mark of… Continue reading A Four Light Window
Is it still there? The sound of trespassers, of purple rains and sweet smell. A cloud that swings words up in the sky a hardened shell of a life, There is a beautiful cottage that I see in my dreams full of centipedes, vintage mahogany chairs. A sound travels me up there in between the… Continue reading The slip
I remember the absurdness of clouds spread over my head, hovering. Blue lilies dancing in the sky. A quiet place of porous Gods. I would stare at the sky, releasing my chemical reactions in the thin air. My orange vase neck, oscillating between the concrete human eye and the prism of soil. I would… Continue reading The Look
Observe the faint freckles between my fingers, the red polka dot- a hum of my quiet anger, slithering like thin sheets between two mouths. lips- a place of complete soliloquy. What do I see here? A place of delusional spots, hallucinations about a place like home. So, I form a lotus with my hands, a… Continue reading An evening star
How many times do I need to die to keep you awake? A figure of wax evolves and quietly speaks your name to me. Your tangerine lips, a lump of sugar and clove all dissolved in my ears. What is your language of love? You reach my body with chemicals gushing until the body shatters… Continue reading Midsummer’s mad song
A frequent dancing step of memory so unique and feverish, an operation of melodious thunderstorms circulating/ watching a gluey stare What is that white noise? A stare, a semantic of laughter. A cacophony of strange chemicals. The molten rhythm of steroid heart. I am blue today, dark blue. nothing that remains inside excites me, I… Continue reading A poet too insane
I am more than thrilled to announce that Kristiana and I have started this collective together which talks about all your pain, abstract verse, surreal poetries through our collective Olive Skins. We have received a great number of submissions for the first issue based on the theme “loss”. While we are still on for reading… Continue reading Update on Olive skins
I am talking like this after ages, I know. Thing is something is there I feel lacking inside me. That satisfaction, maybe? Since past many days, i have been observing the silent response on my blog, not that i care for the stats. But the comments are the things which always uplifted me. i have… Continue reading dear readers!
Darling, i have seen the ombre of your lips and words like mirrors protruding a new leaf, like a vintage walnut is hidden under my pillow, your kiss under my pillow, for memories are my skin. Darling, i have known you all these years as the shadow of the moon, tingling my dreams, making me… Continue reading Aerial forever
I find no motivation here, things are abrupt. My writings have ruined I feel. Call it a writer’s block or whatever the fuck, I just don’t feel like writing and my creativity has been literally coiled in loops now. I might close by blog, I might not. But surely I know, no one cares! Peace… Continue reading Shut down
Hola, my dear readers! It has been ages since I have done a pep talk with my soul or anyone about my writings of late. I know a lot of you love my surrealistic poetry, yet since past a few days I am unable to feel the flow as if something is missing. Not a… Continue reading A small talk.
A year and a half now on this beautiful platform which gave me an opportunity of sharing my writings and reading some brilliant work too. I want to take a moment and say how grateful I am to all the lovely people here who never fail to encourage and support me. A lot happened during… Continue reading Journey so far
How many dark spots do you have, Lizards and crocodile scream to see you knitting lips on lips. Papers mock your hubris hands Ruffles and hibernation In the planets of chivalry in the swamp of lies I see your lies and eyes, A corrosion of rock. I am a piece of molten clock and Your… Continue reading As You Lay Dying
Blood into ink is a safe place for all the unheard voices of Survival and brave souls. Anyone who has suffered the cruelty or has been traumatized can submit their writings to the submission page of this bold journal. We would love to spread your voice and words. Its a place for all the courageous… Continue reading Submit to Blood Into Ink
image- self The heights often scare me collapsing: with celestial bodies galvanizing, molesting only my skin crooked tree trunks, molten rocks, reside in the outer rim of my stomach The rituals die here each day, epileptic seizures, the concrete blood vessels begin to spit, spit and strive, my narrow palm opening begins to feel, spawling… Continue reading Memories
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.