desiderata_

i escape. @desiderata_ / @इमरोज़

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  • desiderata_ 64w

    Dummy

    a chance encounter with her
    in a local bazaar's lane
    where the dim lights
    letting only the shadows grow
    the only joy of an evening stroll.

    shy and a little overly madeup
    taut and strained in her translucent skin
    like an eternal flame,
    just one flaw of somewhat contorted left wrist
    makes her glance more neurotic than stylish.

    that unhappy little-dusty creature
    in a display window with finest clothing
    watching the crowd streaming by
    in a cold and detached stance
    without even rolling her eyes
    at polite coughs, nods or winks.

    distant and provocative
    her eyes, filled with clouds of
    impenetrable unknowing
    boring straight into his heart,
    already broken.

    would they behead her or
    severe her limbs
    if she could ever manage to tell him
    the story of what she wants to be?

    is she paying some sort of penalty,
    in obedience to her master?
    hence, she opts
    selling her dream
    in disguise of a pretty dress?
    dream of becoming 'the other'
    who'd wear that outfit.

    longing but failing to be somebody else
    like a hapless lover who'd never share a bed
    pampered but dissected into parts
    she is playing the role of a 'desirable' alien
    by displaying the beautiful garbs.

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 66w

    Silence...

    the mute spaces between
    illicit orgasms
    struggle to smother
    piercing screams,
    devoured by love...

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 67w

    Growing Up

    i am able to speak the most when i am not talking
    i like being there for myself, i am not dependent
    i can sing, dance, cry, be strong, everything
    and it has resonated with a lot them

    i don't feel like i fall short of the ideal
    i am a little more assured now
    it was a risk that i took and it paid off
    without having the much needed know-how

    my jump into the self-business came out of nowhere
    i allowed me to do what i wanted to do
    it felt so magical and cool
    and if there were lessons to learn i felt i will learn them

    there is no ambition no obsession
    it is as simple as the cottage on a hill
    i am punching below the weight
    without the need to kill

    it was a bit struggle
    but it came naturally to me
    that seemed like a better bargain
    because i didn't know otherwise

    i have learnt with time
    but that learning cannot be undone
    i am aware now
    i think i am growing up!

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 67w

    #birth

    i was born in your head,
    a colorful sign
    longed to be seen
    passing between two beautiful minds.

    Outside of it,
    i flap the wings and take flight
    that's when you decide,
    to hide me in shadows
    where i am at my most relaxed
    when i hover between earth and sky,
    undecided...

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 67w

    he adds and subtracts one more time
    not to think about it further
    the poison, that touches his every interaction.
    so long there is a choice to make
    no point in turning away
    he shuffles between
    'want to' and 'have to'
    looking it in the face.

    the little spurts of scribbled reasoning
    grow in a pile of considerations
    about the order in which things matter
    and to call them by their right names.

    how many beats did he miss?
    how far back he needs to go into pieces
    to begin again?
    but he wants to remember the exact moment
    the very moment when he severs the ties
    with the carcass he carries inside.

    why can't he deal with it?
    look at it, set forth the conditions
    consider the alternatives, imagine the consequences.
    it's time to begin the house in order
    but no part of it is in his power.

    he rakes back and forth
    across the items in rows
    not this, not that
    not this, not that
    there is no least bad in all of it
    there is only bad, bad, bad.

    he pushes, he snaps
    he pulls his hood down
    over ears and eyes
    like a vacuum bag
    and goes back
    the same way he came.

    Idiom: settle a score
    Meaning: to get vengeance (on someone) for a past wrong

    #idiom #wod #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod

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    can you dig much deeper into the past
    to settle a score??

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 67w

    When he looks into those eyes, he wonders, how to do justice so sublime that it unlocks her very dreams? Double meanings or mocking hints with false cues about her secret life, like some unknowing power from another planet is trying to send him messages.

    A little booklet lying in front of him, that claims to interpret the dreams. A desire he couldn't begin to fathom when tales about the cologne bottles, hairpins, slippers, nylon stockings pouring an unholy chorus, bring tears to his eyes.

    He couldn't recall the original color of her pale nailpolish before she picked up the bottle of Acetone to remove its traces. A lost memory that shimmers before his eyes like a fairy tale from a distant land. It becomes difficult to trace the origin of her story, as it is, to trace the origin of life.

    He takes notes, how she spent her last few days with him, filling the ashtray of empty promises, diffusing scent of her Frangipani perfume into smoke. A silent passage that tests his courage, fires up the imagination and he embarks on yet another ritual with painstaking precision. A bleak hunt by conjuring her image, as light glimmers the same shade as her complexion.

    They say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He knows, there is no such thing. Again this unimpeachable silence, incomprehensible even frightening, is far beyond their shared vocabulary. And he knows, this time it would be a long while before either of them break it and she would leave it to him how he writes about all this, for she is not he, who is the wordsmith.

    #proverb #wod #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod

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    Do they sell ink that smell of Frangipani?

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 68w

    Love Note

    scratch my surface, and
    you'll find the ripples;

    floating between the songlines
    an unbearbale lightness
    reaching out
    to what it's written,
    a tryst
    already fixed
    inside the thin layer
    of my sanity's skin.

    Maktūb, the unseen sight
    shimmering so bright
    lending the cracks
    in my voice
    and the faltered cough
    stangulates
    the demons of memories
    day and night.

    it's time to find the bearings
    hence, i court the failures
    capped by A'la Rasi,
    leaving no effort behind
    to find the right note
    that embodies the sublime
    before i lose my mind.

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 68w

    Can't you see?

    the body he owns,
    is a temple erected in search of goddess
    or a container of his own obsessive mess?

    shocking, nauseating mirrors
    or the presence of obscure lovers?
    under the covers of legitimate test
    an absence he always felt,
    the groans of techniques and geometry
    rendering apparent
    the muted screams fall on deaf ears.

    a corrupted innocence
    or a detached existence?
    dirtying itself in sin
    taught by experience
    when gluey tears
    ooze from the slit of his third eye
    justifying, that self-gratification
    is a better replacement of
    an unclaimed sacrifice.

    a diagnosis
    or just a semantics?
    a worthiness, need not to be counselled
    like the scent of a wildflower
    surrendered to the wind
    omni sensual
    at its finest, asexual.

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 68w

    I Walk The Line

    You put a spell on me,
    every memory is gone
    that kept me going
    but i still feel your essence
    creeping all over me

    why were you so cruel to me?
    i am an Archloch, but why you?
    i was in a different room
    but never left the home
    and that's the freedom
    we agreed upon

    and now, i can't cope up
    with the distance
    worse than dying,
    i'm missing you
    and i'm not being poetic
    asking, will you stay with me?
    to cross the dark-verse together
    because that's how
    i always want it to be
    to end the last call
    with your laugh.

    ©desiderata_

  • desiderata_ 68w

    Trying To Reach Home...

    for me its too late
    to vanish again,
    a freedom of choice
    a stab in my back
    that longs for hugs
    i can embrace,
    without a desire
    dirty or clean
    breaking the walls
    to alter everything
    knowing, i am coming
    Home.

    to keep the promise
    but the promise is YOU
    swearing upon my dead face
    the minute you turn away,
    i ink an oath
    to go together
    to make you fall in love
    with the music we play,
    not an easy way
    but a reason enough
    to write a poem
    as i dont want to feel
    lost again.

    ©desiderata_