Soul stirring muse,
The scent of fading jasmine
blossoms as moon beams dance through animated branche.
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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I write a poem and burn it. what escapes of it is my soul.
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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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February
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- demise not by my pen paint you righteous, the wri...
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2012
(117)
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▼
February
(6)
- Soul stirring muse, The scent of fading jasmine bl...
- In the silence words become runes beveled into i...
- demise not by my pen paint you righteous, the wri...
- Let me paint the sacredness of your naked Soul. ...
- Bodies are like poems, only a fraction of their po...
- I wake to an inky night paper beckoning with wh...
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▼
February
(6)
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- emotions (3)
- haiku (5)
- Kashmir picturesque (10)
- lonliness (1)
- Monologues (12)
- nature (19)
- rain (2)
- social networks (1)
- Solos (3)
- Trail of stains (2)
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