my mind, poached
its yolk
spilling out into a void;
past mirrored hallways,
grey
reflections of
words
are chained to my
tongue
Look at my blood flowers, because I write with a serene sharp blade that soothes. as much as cuts into the deepest parts of my soul.
Me
- Basit
- Calicut, Kerala, India
- Son, Mallu, Expeditionist, Whimsical Blogger, Pseudo Poet, Haiku thirst, Literaly anti-literal, Foodie, Coffee & PinkFloyd addict. floating bewilderedly through space-time continuum !
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Look at my blood flowers because I write with a serene sharp blade that soothes as much as cuts into the deepest parts of my soul.
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This morning, I listen to this blood breathing peace, in these veins— I wear prayers.
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Those times I heard the echo Long before the sound .
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Blog Archive
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▼
2010
(76)
-
▼
December
(62)
- Wit's chemistry
- tête-à-tête
- Rain storm
- random funk
- Ink bleeds
- Metamorphose
- Aeronautic
- Plead
- Inception or ?
- Plastic smile
- Radicle of the sand and me
- Liquid dream
- Fountain Clock
- Beak
- enprisonen
- Truth the poem
- Soaring Me
- The Brain
- the moth and the light
- brand new clouds
- symbols
- standing by the aquarium
- Camera-eye
- Lotus
- Petrichor ~the name for the smell of rain on dry g...
- blood on the song
- Romance of a butterfly
- Climate change
- Weird philosophy
- Pie in the sky
- Apple tree
- Wayanad
- Reminiscence
- the stars in my eyes/ are but a reflection of/ t...
- Solo
- Vandalism
- Crow.Morning
- For a flower
- Dove
- Chinar : Pahalgam
- Moisture
- British school, Srinagar
- School ground.
- Honey bees
- Sunny morning
- dreaming the semi finished symphony
- mother earth
- Persian bird
- silent pop outs
- Nishath garden water falls
- betrayed !
- temple
- Home Alone
- dream impossible
- storms
- facebook and other virtual planets
- Gulmarg
- Grammar
- Moon bakery
- Beneath the Shower
- Sonmarg. After Rain
- bird's song
-
▼
December
(62)
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- Kashmir picturesque (10)
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- Solos (3)
- Trail of stains (2)
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