Cosmic.

Cosmic. I visited a dead city once. It had no roads, no shelters, no bodies. There were only broken walls, shattered roads, and souls - an aftermath of war. I believe that after our final lesson of letting go of life, the souls learn how to stay and so among these ruins, they kick back, … Continue reading Cosmic.

Stop fucking poetry.

Stop fucking poetry. “it’s easy to be a writer in 2019” what makes you think it’s easy to be a writer ever? Some get traumatized by bullying or an early divorce or assault and they write war cries down on paper. Every syllable, every decibel, screaming louder than their oppressors. It’s the scream, the pain, … Continue reading Stop fucking poetry.

Fallen angels

Fallen angels My therapist in all hisself-love and happiness gloryasked me to tell you how much I loved you,so this is it.This is my confession. Let’s start with something simple,a waterslide maybe,to ease you into this drowning sea~ i love you.Ever since the day I saw youconverse with an eyelash on your finger,comforting it, cheering … Continue reading Fallen angels

Purple

I came up with the first two lines and the last two lines about two weeks ago. Then, I used them as a prompt and expanded it into a poem. The thing about prompts for poetry is, it doesn't have to be one word. Here is the prompt I came up with: You told him your favorite color, he shrugged and said “okay”. You told me your favorite color and I painted the whole sky with it.........

Soulmates?

I met a palm reader once who convinced me to let him tell me my story. His readings weren’t conventional - he came up with stories of past lives by reading the calligraphy on our hands. Mukkadar used to be a storyteller but the people needed some catch to sit for a story, so he chose this unconventional palm-reading......