poems open doors;
that don't even exist.
that don't even exist.
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 !
Popular Posts
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who needs umbrella, when mouthing the rain ?
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And she kissed him, only to leave him unhinged, with a scrimmage of feelings. Days passed: He's now lost in a delirium, looking at ...
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find cracks to fall in, wings are only escalators fissures between here and there,to fly, all one must do, is kill the disbelief of Love...
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Twilight cascading through your face, to sparkle across pure reflection of golden seasons. Your veins, woven web with crimson silk, u...
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Every day he wrote the poem, again with a different ending. Lies after lies He kept writing, for what is not real but imagined. ....a...
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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 .
Blog archive
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2013
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February
(22)
- Tired of the sea, I need a tree that will ...
- Thoughts as warm as a silky summer rain, flow...
- Seasons slip by me And my clothes remain th...
- Cold silence, and a warm duvet pushing me; in...
- The stars are but tears shed by a miriad of unr...
- poems open doors; that don't even exist.
- All my time has been a raindrop,Sparkling and shi...
- On the coffee table is a framed photograph; the g...
- I hear the witches incantations, their spells wove...
- We all have our safe places, where none are invite...
- There is a light within our soul that burns bright...
- Those masks we wear not to shield others; but our...
- ghosts of memories resonate and chase yesterday in...
- convoluted distortions, scripting thoughts without...
- All these mirrors carnival distortions of se...
- Paintbrush in water fascinates me sometimes more ...
- that piece of you I hold inside always searching ...
- ഋതുക്കളുടെ മേല് പ്രണയത്തിന്റെ ചോര പൊടിയുന്ന കയ്...
- Soothe me or hurt me, I'm paralyzed anyway.
- After a breath and before another, there's plenty ...
- Even dead fallen leaves go a long way with the win...
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▼
February
(22)
Labels
- 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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Blog Archive
-
▼
2013
(69)
-
▼
February
(22)
- Tired of the sea, I need a tree that will ...
- Thoughts as warm as a silky summer rain, flow...
- Seasons slip by me And my clothes remain th...
- Cold silence, and a warm duvet pushing me; in...
- The stars are but tears shed by a miriad of unr...
- poems open doors; that don't even exist.
- All my time has been a raindrop,Sparkling and shi...
- On the coffee table is a framed photograph; the g...
- I hear the witches incantations, their spells wove...
- We all have our safe places, where none are invite...
- There is a light within our soul that burns bright...
- Those masks we wear not to shield others; but our...
- ghosts of memories resonate and chase yesterday in...
- convoluted distortions, scripting thoughts without...
- All these mirrors carnival distortions of se...
- Paintbrush in water fascinates me sometimes more ...
- that piece of you I hold inside always searching ...
- ഋതുക്കളുടെ മേല് പ്രണയത്തിന്റെ ചോര പൊടിയുന്ന കയ്...
- Soothe me or hurt me, I'm paralyzed anyway.
- After a breath and before another, there's plenty ...
- Even dead fallen leaves go a long way with the win...
-
▼
February
(22)
Followers
Labels
- 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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