Tag Archives: Life

beauty, clouds, creative-writing, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Poems, Poetry

A Circle of Memories

Warmth is a long sedimentary pause,
sip it slowly, relish it.
My eyes have taught me the art of forgetting, 
My heart has almost perfected it.

Too much of an interlude
and the spaces around you
start spewing nostalgic visions,
sabbatical turns into the ruins,
the moment one begins to dream

I dreamt of a normality which I always fear:
A morning in July with no rain,
where my hands spread as far as the sky, but they never find you.

We should have woken up when It was still winter 
our sleeping hearts still booming with summer’s dream.
cold distant stars, falling white snow
hearts in unison, brewing warmth
eyes sipping this pause sip by sip

Time was a circle of memories 
when you were here. 
Always.

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beauty, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Imagine, Life, Writings

Love is a Mirror

It’s a transparent glass
for when I see myself
I am seeing you seeing me,
from the corners, from the glass
smiling at me without a reason

my anxious heart can’t bear this
the mercury and the reflection’s creation.
Unless I hear you
or see you, before all this
my morning disturbs itself
by your visions and voices.

This distance somehow,
has nothing to do with
memories of ours,
We humans have built computers,
without emotions and a without heart
but at the end of day
I shall seek you in mirrors,
seeking our heart, seeking ourselves

I peek in the mirror
and the shaving blade cleaves through my chin,
somehow the flower blossoms, like every morning
because I see you, smiling at me
for love is a mirror.

you are my mirror.

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Books, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poetry

A Cat’s Conundrum

A Sage blessed us nine lives :
I think about it and I somehow let us dissolve
in the nine clouds
each made up of ways
of us waking up together
next to our perpetual bliss.

Of me, being next to you, every-time,
dissolving, disappearing
Meghalaya, Māwsynrām
a million miles, a separation in river

I learnt to swim,
in a warm untouched river,
because I saw you,
calling me.

Do it, as if you don’t respect :
these lines of these foolish landscapes.
your heart, I shall trace.
In these sands with no heart,
In these ocean with no love,
In these air, with no warmth.

I am, devoid:
complete me.
with a voice.
as you always do.

I shall float.
like the moon,
for earth.

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beauty, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry

warmest nostalgia

Photo by Cat Crawford on Pexels.com

wet pine trees,
the rain caressing the leaves,
a grey blanket, suffocates the green,
ice cold puddles, breeze and breath

I walk past, barefoot.
my toes cold enough to dream of summer,
towards the old house,
where the verandahs are free,
segmented and full of flowers.

the bed nearby astonishingly dry,
I sleep, beneath a velvet blanket
the air kept calling me,
the rain kept dreaming of me.

I wake up to a faint sun,
6:31 am , and warmth has melted,
smell this nostalgia,
now.

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Sunday Dreams
fiction and poetry, pics

Sunday Dreams

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beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love

Longing

This heart, dosed on Chopin and Bach
Traces your voice, a subtle echo even , somehow,
What is silence to a room full of devoted hearts
waiting to bloom,

I know : ones without an unforgivable autumn
will wait and wait
my love, I seek a way out
to you and your summer.

In the end, the tress
Drizzle and disappear,
There is no night in this summer
someone spilled the sky’s heart red.

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