behind a shade drawn down,
the moon guides my soul into every journey
I am masked with surviving
I am what love used to do when mirrors cried.
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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2012
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November
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- The lover disappears in loving. Then there's only ...
- Map out my contours, can you define me? I'm crim...
- Every time he cried, the heart of night splintere...
- It's the dreamers who will save the world, but the...
- Even then you had worn the mask of night and danc...
- പ്രതീക്ഷിക്കാതെ പെയ്ത ഹേമന്തത്തിൽ പ്രണയത്തിന്റെ അവ...
- with fire in your eyes and a carve of wind in your...
- in the afterburn of free will my broken faces melt...
- time,you are a wicked mistress.
- behind a shade drawn down, the moon guides my soul...
- I've fallen in love with my 'self' that loves you ...
- my solace is rebellion crawling faster than light,...
- knowing you were here was enough for me, for us ...
- mining the pain to write writing the memory to fo...
- lend me your blue, so I may hold up half your sky...
- a little piece of you in every word i write.
- There is no dancing even to the music of the seaso...
- You put your hand on the answer and the question d...
- Memories of you cling like leaves to the wet pave...
- Memories of you cling like leaves to the wet pave...
- I made a prism out of smiles and called it poise.
- Autumn stands still in the morning trees in its mi...
- you walk into my cage as if I just imagined th...
- counting time in breaths for that touch scrawle...
- another wooden bench, where I leave the world behi...
- Look at my blood flowers because I write with a s...
- with fire in your eyes and a carve of wind in your...
- an angel day spoken spray rakes what cancers cause...
- You're the smell of ink on the pages of an old book.
- Mainlining you eye dropping every word.
- Two big beautiful poems, your eyes.
- Thoughts that drowned in a cup of chilled coffee
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2012
(117)
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November
(32)
- The lover disappears in loving. Then there's only ...
- Map out my contours, can you define me? I'm crim...
- Every time he cried, the heart of night splintere...
- It's the dreamers who will save the world, but the...
- Even then you had worn the mask of night and danc...
- പ്രതീക്ഷിക്കാതെ പെയ്ത ഹേമന്തത്തിൽ പ്രണയത്തിന്റെ അവ...
- with fire in your eyes and a carve of wind in your...
- in the afterburn of free will my broken faces melt...
- time,you are a wicked mistress.
- behind a shade drawn down, the moon guides my soul...
- I've fallen in love with my 'self' that loves you ...
- my solace is rebellion crawling faster than light,...
- knowing you were here was enough for me, for us ...
- mining the pain to write writing the memory to fo...
- lend me your blue, so I may hold up half your sky...
- a little piece of you in every word i write.
- There is no dancing even to the music of the seaso...
- You put your hand on the answer and the question d...
- Memories of you cling like leaves to the wet pave...
- Memories of you cling like leaves to the wet pave...
- I made a prism out of smiles and called it poise.
- Autumn stands still in the morning trees in its mi...
- you walk into my cage as if I just imagined th...
- counting time in breaths for that touch scrawle...
- another wooden bench, where I leave the world behi...
- Look at my blood flowers because I write with a s...
- with fire in your eyes and a carve of wind in your...
- an angel day spoken spray rakes what cancers cause...
- You're the smell of ink on the pages of an old book.
- Mainlining you eye dropping every word.
- Two big beautiful poems, your eyes.
- Thoughts that drowned in a cup of chilled coffee
-
▼
November
(32)
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- haiku (5)
- Kashmir picturesque (10)
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- Solos (3)
- Trail of stains (2)
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