I need a Sun burn, I need a rain come. You get back to work in town, I'll stay at home with my disease. I have friends who care for me. I have pills which try to keep me awake. There are lies you have left behind on the walls of my building. I have to wipe them and keep them away from me.
You've that car of yours and it's red, like my blood, and your keys are like bones under my skin. My flesh hanging out like your back seat, torn a little, I've my eyes burning, like the engine heat. But I'm not starting it again and trying to keep myself awake on the bed. Maybe I'll sleep till you return, and I'll have a hundred emotions covering your fan.
I need a Sun burn, I need a rain come. I'm not worrying, cause I'm already overly concerned, it doesn't bother me the same. There is something in between, but I will always turn my head, I'll not let myself regret, if it's love. I'm not worrying. I'm just overly concerned.
You're talking in your sleep and it's keeping me awake.
It's just another afternoon with hot air-ed winds blowing horizontally east to west, it comes with the drip dripping sand castle of nostalgia and shakes my inkpot, I start to write.
It's just another afternoon with August arriving in the beginning of March, both head of to the year, it's something I wait for, every year, something I wish to last.
It's just another afternoon with Sun spotted on the middle of the sky, shading the moon to die of light, yet the curtains shiver of the breeze and aloevera plants down the balcony lean a little more to let the dust past through it.
It's just another afternoon with the springs singing for the May queen, it's the time of the year, when the lotus pokes the pond and tulips bloom. It's the arrival of the first one to arrive and second one to diffuse, it's the departure of the shallow black waters inside the mud.
There's time to kill when you sit over the beach or something like that. A place where it's all alone and empty, but it's peaceful cause of both. Emptiness don't weigh more than a ton, and that's the weight we can bear always.
Who knew that we could kill the most mysterious creation ever, so easily and doubt it to be meaningful, like cutting a beam of light and then bandaging it with a virtual piece of paper with a name on it.
Who knew we could be happy just like that, waiting for the hope, with a hope, through hope that hope would heal. Hope heals insane, hope carries on sane.
Hope destroys many and warns beforehand, hope is just another name for the time and synonymous of a numerous monopolies.
Sitting on the sand is better, you can stop time and forget hope, then realise how easy it was always till you've to stand up and throw the beer in your hand in the ocean and when you look back, you'll see time never stopped and hope, it drowned with the bottle, yet you still have the sand grains smitten to your palms, a new photo and another hope that hope never drowns, if floats, like time can't be killed, it just passes.
It rings on the surface of the leaves, My name scattered over walls, My shadow caged in a jar, and the Sun volunteers for it.
It's night, I get free from the day. And light shrugs off all the colors, Absorbs them for the darkness, my mind hits the clock, the clock kisses two.
I got a pen and a poem comes out of it, I write it down, never lose hope. I was watching Danny Collins a while ago, made me think where I really wanna go.
So, I'll let myself for a wait. I hold the hands of the weather, warm warmer then cold. It's a song more than just one more feeling to hold.
This is then for the future, Like everything till the date, I've done or I haven't, but I don't know why, Tonight feels special. Tonight seems so good. My bed feels so tight, My head is a little light. I'll wait for the calendar to unwrap, My days are gonna be good if not perfect.
When I look into your eyes. I can see a love restrained. But darlin' when I hold you, Don't you know I feel the same. Nothin' lasts forever, And we both know hearts can change. And it's hard to hold a candle,
In the cold November rain. We've been through this such a long long time. Just tryin' to kill the pain,
But love is always coming and love is always going. And no one's really sure, who's lettin' go today. Walking away If we could take the time To lay it on the line I could rest my head Just knowin' that you were mine, All mine So if you want to love me Then darlin' don't refrain Or I'll just end up walkin' In the cold November rain.
The vignette of a love poem slung on a pistol thousands of half baked verses melted on porcelain tiles withering the carnelian dusk dangling from hanging baskets, blood dropped like the whistle of steam train knocking on unknown earlobes, death sneaked from the tangled braids of brown hair.
Crockery set breathed out the overcooked saying, "time heals everything" resting on her lap, the hamstrung grief was the blowing trumpet of how time kills everything, it srunches the pain until a cassette of void builds a home within you, your shadow mocks you and you feel the urge to run away from the blinding lights to a place striped of known faces, the facade collided with the globules of lies long ago when you were a false prophet preaching the unpractised.
I am wearing a yellow dress today and he tells me that I look like sunshine and smell of lilacs, with my hair falling on my shoulders he slightly brushes them before tucking them behind my ear and rests his hand on my cheek. I smile, with my pale lips as if I have seen a rainbow but as I try to place my hand on his, I do not find it there. He smiles at me and I stare in his black eyes looking for answers within the stars that live beneath those lashes but slowly it turns into a void and he begins disappearing into thin air until he becomes one with the wind and leaves me there, by the window, alone with an ache in my stomach with the butterflies starting to rot and yet I long for more.
I am wearing a yellow dress today but all I see is blue and all I feel is grey.
#picturec this is how you turn a perfectly soothing picture into something sad.
Dead girls carry keys in fists and aphrodisiac in their sleeves
The first woman who was a feminist died single and failed to carry on her genes forward according to the theory of evolution by Yuval Noah Harari conclusion, women who were submissive lived on to carry the blind inheritance
P.S- this poem took me a lot to write. It forced me out of my comfort zone. I would be glad to get some honest reviews on it. It's napowrimo and I really wanted to experiment and get out of my comfort zone. So here it is #gtnapowrimo21
And the sky you watched straight for half an hour, read what your thoughts define through those tired eyes. You wish to fly like that bird but your wings are despaired. Close your eyes, palm your face, breathe in and out shedding away regrets. Ask the sky to call you out, wave, peeking into your soul and make you believe your own definitions pasting them one on each cloud.
And the flowers bloomed better on the day you forgot to pay any attention they said. You missed their call like the one from your heart and so missed a sight to cherish and so missed a wish to nourish. Sit back, hold on ask yourself what's wrong. A few answers lie within while a few questions are answers, I believe.
And let the sun set today must be similarly tired. Lie down, loosen a bit watch the colours dissolve in sky's embrace. Let the night fall down over your masks less face like the curtain after a show. Insomnia will say the night's still young but for once, consider yourself younger. All the burden on that heart needs to be relieved in some way afterall.
And then after everything write a hope note down. Tuck it somewhere safe and sound where a heart can reach without losing many frowns. Write it with kindness pasting a smile beside for you never know in how many pieces that someone will reach out. Write it like the one you'd wish to receive on your bad day for you never know you'll be that someone searching for some hope you yourself once carried along.
And so you gift yourself a piece of your own heart which flew with the birds, bloomed with the flowers, rested with the sun and returned back, smiling with the hopeful you.
Dear Supriya, Your account, @hopenotes__ is one of the best things I've observed in my life. To make a soul feel better even for a moment is a beautiful thing to achieve in this life and I've seen souls feel better as well as felt the same reading your words. You are a gem indeed and a beautiful person inside out. You have no idea how many times I've felt better reading you and how many times I've smiled like a little kid going through the posts of @/wawawiwacomics after coming across their one post through you hehe. Your smile, your words, your heart and all of you is precious. Stay hopeful, stay the same. A paper plane made of hope, warmth, smiles and all the good things on the one who's reading this and your way ♥️
The ‘You' in the haiku refers to you and the ‘I' refers to everyone who has contributed towards the hopenotes. Thankyou ♥️
Bg was clicked on one fine evening and I'm still figuring out who the birds are XD
Do you see the deep cut right beside fourth knuckle healed and got stabbed again by the door frames over and over. Where was your sense at? laughing its heart out and the thing I heard in my childhood about childhood, turned right. “Don"t make the baby laugh, the more he'll laugh now, the more he'll cry later!” Stepped back and cancelled the plans “Keep smiling, that's enough.” So unintentionally cruel of me to wait for him to cry, such theories are always believed with a try. Do you see the cut? ofcourse you don't. It's not about the darkness some things doesn't really exist just scars do. But you cried, right? Cause laughs stabbed just like every other time.
You're asked about the obsession you have with plain black shadows ask back about why not love them when they're showcased with such purity. They smile without smiling cry without crying and being right in front of the giant fireball, lie without lying. You wanna celebrate for your silhouettes still exihibit elegance and I wonder if I should thank the dear you for not wondering whether mudras look any ‘cool’. And trust me, if you start practicing you'll perform the smiles better on show or off show.
Beautiful is the way shadows don't haunt you for you search some hidden meaning in their contours. Are you explained tho about how they got through or you walk away taking away the assumptions about how they got into? Stay, listen and remember. That's what I've taught you.