Writhing of the Writers Vol. 2

Sometimes words fail to compile me, Or maybe I’ve failed them When I need to weaponize I forget not to criminalize I feel as though I’ve been sentenced my entire life In the sufferance of my tongue tied My mind couldn’t gather thoughts As it produced more. Looking at incomplete art and incompetent heart, I…

Writhing of the Writers Vol. 1

Thoughts—Like knots in my throat,Engraved on my stoneAn eternal curseLodged between each dusk,Dreams turn to dust. Believe,And then leaveOn the parchment—Stains of blood,Trust and wanderlust.Echoes never heardThe whispering. On the flamesAs I go,My feet trembleOn burning coal—Yet I move on. Someplace with angel faceBut devilish within,I pray.With each rising day,I begin to eraseJust to fill…

Repost / What hope feels like.

The breeze enveloped me into a brisk hug that I couldn’t escape. My body shivered at the feeling of no floor beneath my foot as I rose it towards my end. I remind myself of all good and bad. Mostly all bad that led me here unknowingly. I have no power over the wandering thoughts,…

Poem / Heart of a stag

Quaint brown eyesstroke a lineacross the long queue of pines;spotting a man,with his feet stern on heaps–and a few tricks up his sleeve.He held wood to build a shelterCold dew was due in such a weatherTrekking could leave any man wildly down to his medieval waysWood for shelter, stones for fireStrolling down the deltato fetch…

Poem / Quarantine Blues

The honest river has flown its course from valleys of each fold of my skin,as it ends in the mountains where it rebuilds,just to pollute again.With each day, I mimic the last one.I replicate as closely as I can,but I’m not sure it can last long.Me and my thoughts have been locked in one room.Each…

Coming out of writer’s oblivion.

The much awaited response of my conscience was, “Maybe everything you do is pointless. Or maybe you’re just believing in this until it becomes true.” But I see the list of dead blogs that I’m about to unfollow and I ponder over my question yet again, “At which point does a writer run out of…

Numbers / poem #Covid19

NumbersGo up each dayA bed emptiedA coffin buriedA second ago they smiled,Everything should’ve been alright. I cried, as the coffin business sadly strikes the millionaire recordAs the queue outside the mortuary is the same as the one outside the liquor storeThere is no comfort, or an answerAs to how we can survive these disastersThe blue…

Rise above / Poem #blacklivesmatter

There is no time to recallBut time to forgive and forgetQuestion your past,Or live your today. Rise above your ego,The last call to your mind.Make amends with people who’ve been so kind,Who never wanted to hear you say goodbye. Rise above your fear,She’s living inside your home.Tell her to leave, you’ve fed her enough—You were…

Poem / wrecked castle

She lived in the womb of dreams where most fairies go to die.Lost in deep abyss she seems to be,Accepting fear for a feeling undefined. Dressed in her modest cologne;And pink bows on her chest.Keeping her vows onto herself alone,Pretending to not really exist. White walls and bricks build her soul.Capturing her into the bosom…

Poem / dying roses

I harvested them in anticipationThat maybe they’ll bloom my lifeEach petal could blossom into my creationBut it turned into a deadly dream at night. Came down that way to plead the lordThat I stay his truly belovedGave into the belief that I took and forgotThen your servant came and objected. I could be so wrongI’ve…