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  • aivsairandhri 5w

    The sunset is a splattered Grapefruit Ade
    Crushed ice clouds float in the sky
    I could hear their veiny cracks
    And they began to melt.
    Another slice of september is served
    And I never noticed
    How close I was to November
    My bones feel drained of its weight
    The hairs want to shed like the leaves
    I am too tired to pass another year
    I feel like a sundried seed
    Left for so long to bask,
    Too brown and too hollow
    That I fear a single touch
    Would somehow break my shell
    ©aivsairandhri

    #ceesreposts #pod #miraquill #writersnetwork
    @miraquill @writersnetwork @odysseus

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  • aivsairandhri 8w

    You were the only word
    I begged behind the door
    Whenever your blue love
    Painted my body in smudges
    Of indigo galaxies
    I loved you more
    So that you will look at them
    And change the artistry
    But you were a great artist
    Who ardently took every time
    In ornating my crumpled body,
    Pain puddled in my every breath
    Still I was sure, you loved me
    And then One day
    I became a blue body of lies.
    ©Aiv Sairandhri

    #domesticviolence #cees_doors #miraquill #writersnetwork #challenge #image_prompt
    @miraquill

    Thank you so much for the repost @writersnetwork

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    And then One day
    I became a blue body of lies.
    ©Aiv Sairandhri

  • aivsairandhri 16w

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #ceesreposts #pod #wod #setting #november

    The November wind blowing at my face was more chilling than usual. My exposed hands and legs were numb , but something pulled me to the spot I was standing . The light canopy of the silent mist tiptoed through the atmosphere without drawing attention. Bright yellow lights of the many lanterns lit against the blue hazed November night brought people to the temporary huts of the gypsy folk. They were cooking their food around a small fire and the smell wafted from the place assured that it was meat. They asked me if I could join them and before I had an opportunity to reply they handed me a plate filled with cooked meat with whole shallots and dried red paprika. In a mud made mug that had seen better days , the same old woman who gave me the plate , poured some wine to wash down the food she handed. I began to eat before she prompts me to eat again , and soon I realised that I was hungry. The succulent steak slices were carefully cut into neat thin pieces to absorb the sweetness of the shallots and the smokey hotness of the dried red paprika. They were kept under a small fire and was subjected to slow cooking and the resultant flavour of the food exploded in my tongue. The wine was more bitter than sweet but was better with the smokey sweet steak slices.
    And then an old woman with silver wiry hair began a story....
    ©aivsairandhri

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  • aivsairandhri 21w

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #ceesreposts #pod


    Your love graze my bones
    And leave scratches of
    The pale ghosts of past,
    At midnights they pull me out of bed
    And I gasp for the dripping life.
    I confined myself within the walls of my mind, crafted with lissome lies.
    Painting dead moths And calling them butterflies Lies lullabied lovelorn lyrics.
    'Blues' whimpers
    And repeats the plain pain,
    The soul sings in sundry syllables;
    'Graves are pretty'.
    ©A!v

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    'Blues' whimpers
    And repeats the plain pain,
    The soul sings
    in sundry syllables;
    'Graves are pretty'.
    ©A!v

  • aivsairandhri 28w

    Oranges bloom in my memories
    Spawning a stale serenade
    It greets the sunlit sepia clouds
    And rains upon me;
    Draining my ephemeral thoughts
    It sinks once again
    To the gliding peachy waves
    Where the sunset yellows
    Sails the golden waters far away
    Would this be the last debt?...

    I once held a quadrifoliate clover
    But then the luck yellowed
    And once again
    The penumbra makes love to me
    The pain, penultimate yet pale
    Parting day and night
    Parting life and death
    The last debt would be to give in...

    The opal light skidding off
    The purple drupelets
    Fall upon the pages
    As a remnant of a hidden secret,
    Beneath the paradise tree
    I look upon the translucent crescent
    Clinging to the infinite inkiness
    Fused with the earthshine.
    The debt can wait..
    For I chose the 'in betweens',
    The darkling scars and damask dusks.
    ©aivsairandhri

    #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod #ceesreposts
    @mirakee @writersnetwork

    Lots of love @writersnetwork for the kind repost.

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    Scabulous

    adj. proud of a scar on your body, an autograph signed to you by a world grateful for your continued willingness to play with her, even when you don’t feel like it.

  • aivsairandhri 34w

    I wrote this for an online poetry competition,the topic was "return to nature"during the covid. But never heard of it afterwards ��
    It doesn't make much sense and yes it is too long ��

    Thank you @writersnetwork for the repost ❤️

    Walking through the burnt
    Ashes of a hectic life
    Combing for the crumbs
    Of a lost childhood
    The aroma of rebirth
    Sprouting in the backyard
    With its pellucid roots
    Grabbing me to the green
    Cracking the locked doors
    Of my distant eyes.
    Brewing grey nostalgia
    Metamorphosing to live
    Rainbow dusted memories.
    Hailing me with swishes and susurrus
    Descending to a lane of lost life,
    Rampage of echoing flashbacks
    Of a dead rosary pea calling me
    To collect tiny treasures,
    Soft scars left by touch-me-nots
    Buried somewhere beneath
    My frail synthetic shielded skin.
    The luminous trails of a snail
    Like the desperate rhizhome
    Of a potted plant
    Caressing the soaked wall;
    Following and falling to fights,
    A pirate handling cord moss,
    Gathered dappled lady birds
    In the palms carved by fate.
    Heard the flutter of a butterfly
    Smiling to the chasms of
    An uncertain life,
    Felt the swollen dead orchid leaves
    Ripened and yellow
    Drooping low to hide its flaky skin
    Black spots of cancerous decay
    Celebrating its slow death,
    Dead shells of maroon millipedes,
    Coiled carcasses;
    The coffin of a roamed past.
    Death was cabbage white,
    Lemon yellow and scarlet red
    A celebration awaiting revival.
    Smelt the wilted flowers
    drowsily drowning with dying time
    Adopting to press against the pages
    To fossilise the present
    For a mundane tomorrow.
    Nurturing and pruning
    A mutating mother
    Sprinkling potent pollens
    Of greenest imaginations,
    A beginning to ponder.
    ©aivsairandhri

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    A Return to Nature

  • aivsairandhri 48w

    #medusa #cees_tp_chall #battle #past

    The worst battle is when you wage it against your own self and your past.
    Here, 'medusa' is the haunting past.


    Medusa slithers around
    Hissing the scaly past
    Turning present to stones
    And smashing them to scintillas
    Such 'eyeopeners',
    Their pity crash the ears.
    They giggle at the blindness
    And mock the escape plan.

    You had sworn to kill her
    But you are no perseus.
    You have no thunderbolt,
    No pegasus will fly to you
    You lost before the battle,
    You think and sigh.
    Then the puzzle gets solved
    The light at the end of the tunnel
    Has grown.
    Looking at Medusa
    You saw the marble tears.
    ©Aiv

    Its upto oneself whether to slay or to embrace their demons.

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  • aivsairandhri 50w

    Apricity flows like a silent stream
    Finds my frigid soul
    Cups my heart in its aureate arms
    Cascades to the blueth alleyways
    Where frostbitten leaves
    Cuddles the cold cobblestones
    The November breathes in me once again
    Cordolium dances around the fire
    Waving its selcouth self
    The thrum of its foot steps
    Starts something new
    Like a wildfire in the winter moonlight
    With bluish flames
    and heal the wounds.
    ©aivSairandhri
    _______________________________

    ���������������� ���������������� ���� ���� �������� ����������...

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    November breathes in me
    once again;
    Like a wildfire
    in the winter moonlight
    With bluish flames
    and heal the wounds.
    ©Aiv

  • aivsairandhri 54w

    #malayalam

    മതിലുകളാൽ വേർതിരിക്കപ്പെട്ട്
    ഇരുപുറങ്ങളിലായി നീറിയൊടുങ്ങി
    ഈ ജന്മവും പൊയ്ക്കൊള്ളട്ടെ
    നിന്റെയോർമ്മകൾ പറിച്ചു നടാൻ
    ഞാനിനിയും പുനർജനിക്കും
    അടർന്നു വീണുറങ്ങിക്കിടന്നൊരു
    തുളസിയരിയായ് നീ സമയം നീക്കുക
    മഴയിൽ കുതിർന്ന മതിലിന്റെ
    അവശേഷിപ്പുകളിൽ
    വേരുകൾ ഒഴുകിയിറങ്ങുന്നതും
    തുളസിഗന്ധം ചാലുകൾ കീറിയെത്തുന്നതും
    കാത്തു ഞാനിരിക്കും...
    അതുവരെയും
    നീ സമയം നീക്കുക.
    ©സൈരന്ധ്രി

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    മതിലുകളാൽ വേർതിരിക്കപ്പെട്ട്
    ഇരുപുറങ്ങളിലായി നീറിയൊടുങ്ങി
    ഈ ജന്മവും പൊയ്ക്കൊള്ളട്ടെ
    നിന്റെയോർമ്മകൾ പറിച്ചു നടാൻ
    ഞാനിനിയും പുനർജനിക്കും
    അടർന്നു വീണുറങ്ങിക്കിടന്നൊരു
    തുളസിയരിയായ് നീ സമയം നീക്കുക
    മഴയിൽ കുതിർന്ന മതിലിന്റെ
    അവശേഷിപ്പുകളിൽ
    വേരുകൾ ഒഴുകിയിറങ്ങുന്നതും
    തുളസിഗന്ധം
    ചാലുകൾ കീറിയെത്തുന്നതും
    കാത്തു ഞാനിരിക്കും...
    അതുവരെയും
    നീ സമയം നീക്കുക.
    ©സൈരന്ധ്രി

  • aivsairandhri 58w

    #malayalam

    നിന്നെ വാക്കുകൾക്കുള്ളിൽ
    അടക്കം ചെയ്തിരിക്കുന്നു
    മൂന്നാം നാൾ
    ഉയിർത്തെഴുനേൽക്കാതിരിക്കുക.
    വാക്കുകൾ പരിണാമപ്പെടാൻ
    സമയമേറും,
    അതുവരെ മൗനം
    തുണയായെന്നു വരും.
    ഇനിയും
    കവിതകളടർത്തിയെടുക്കാൻ
    പാകപ്പെട്ടിട്ടില്ല ഞാൻ,
    അതുവരെയും
    ഉയിർത്തെഴുനേൽപ്പുകൾക്ക്
    അർദ്ധവിരാമം കടമെടുക്കാം.
    ©സൈരന്ധ്രി

    "Know that you are buried in my words
    Don't believe in hope,
    Not every third day is meant for resurrections,
    These words take time to evolve
    Silence may accompany you till then,
    I'm still not ready to mother another poem
    Till then, resurrections can wait. " (Translation)
    ⒸAiv

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    നിന്നെ വാക്കുകൾക്കുള്ളിൽ
    അടക്കം ചെയ്തിരിക്കുന്നു
    മൂന്നാം നാൾ
    ഉയിർത്തെഴുനേൽക്കാതിരിക്കുക.
    വാക്കുകൾ പരിണാമപ്പെടാൻ
    സമയമേറും,
    അതുവരെ മൗനം
    തുണയായെന്നു വരും.
    ഇനിയും
    കവിതകളടർത്തിയെടുക്കാൻ
    പാകപ്പെട്ടിട്ടില്ല ഞാൻ,
    അതുവരെയും
    ഉയിർത്തെഴുനേൽപ്പുകൾക്ക്
    അർദ്ധവിരാമം കടമെടുക്കാം.
    ©സൈരന്ധ്രി