The elevator elongates behind her
Eerie portal to her kind of eternity
She guards the passage
Ghoulish red wine
Black pepper bodice
Arms spectrally stretching
Welcome
To
My world.
Can you hear me
Swallow my scream
As fire erupts beneath
Tafetta red skirts
Who is watching my back
I turn to face a mirror
At her grinning apparition
Crackling Rosy stares
Deadly red-black....
And ... I sink
Before the queen of the night
As
My world goes black.
© Amrita valan 2015
Pain
Tarnished memories
Like word associations haunt
Making mind fragile
Water boiling over
Scalding blisters of hurt
Breaking old skin wounds
Tearing claws on
carefully patched up scabs
The dark blue veins of clotted
Blood flow its poison flowering
Poems of madness
The faded yellow scars reassert
A kind of vicarious life
Viciously driving frozen icicles
Stalactites and stalagmites
Furrowing apart painful caves of
Darkness.
Why do you say to me
That the healer of wounded hearts
Is Time?
Time is unconscious flow
Of passage of events
Memory is the grail which chooses
To keep the bloody trails and broken bits
Of our powdered hearts
Crushed by conscious agents in
Acts of deliberate cruelty.
The cross we carry, is like the
Laugh of the madman
He knows not why
But laugh he must
And raucously howl
At the moon baying for
His heart blood.
He who willingly ascended
The Cross, carried it knowing
How we too are bound to ours
Beasts of burden
Beating our breast the
Heart's cancerous tick tock
Reminds us of our time
That concocted figment
We imagine as past
It dwells to charm
Swells to burst
But cares not about what is
Forgotten.
What is lost in oblivion
Is not our past.
What is healed and happy
Is not a memory.
Those pretty pictures
Are our background cover
And introductory face to
Our hidden cave.
Inside dwells the primitive
Captive of the living past.
The past from which
There is a little reprieve
But no escape.
Time can't discard the sacrificial
Entrails of our chopped up selves
That flow bleeding into its currents
Carrying votive flowers offerings
Of our furious rage
Against pain.
It carries on, just like us
My friend.
© Amrita Valan 2015
To a Girl I Knew
I remembered you last night
Too distinct too cold for comfort
You initiated our all too brief friendship
Because I used to get so tongue tied
Even though I smiled a lot.
Pretty you are and always will be
My gracefully demure friend with a
Suitably picture book life,
How hard you made your face when you discovered
Mine simply wasn't that nice.
Do you know how it broke me?
For I had placed my faith in you,
Marked you out as a nice girl who won't abandon
A friend,
Because she made a mistake or two.
You wanted to banish and I was expelled
Blacklisted to desert terrains on the fringes,
Watching the ice creams you offered to
All the other little boys,
Except to my own little one, my friend.
Sigh....I wish I could just forget you
Such memories need an exorcist
Your heart was always aglow
upon your smiling face,
You charmed me and I couldn't resist.
The hope of befriending one who
wouldn't judge
And condemn on hear say alone,
But your life Mrs Vanilla Super fudge
Made mine seem dripping dreams
from its messed up crumply cone.
I remembered you last night again
For once again, sadly I had made a mess
But the tears from my eyes refused to rain
Because I recalled how when I confessed
To feeling pain,
It never failed to make me less.
With stony eyes and a maddening vice,
Iron tight and heavy, dumbwaiter heart
I surveyed hushed, a dull mute misery
The valiant walls of my vacant flat.
And my blessed friend from a
Far more happier place.
Thank God, for you will never have to know,
The effort and depth of that.
© Amrita Valan 2015
The Evening Beyond End
The sky lay out satiny carpet embalming
Earth with dark duvet
The quilt worked exquisitely
With mythic pinpricks of light,
The Host refulgent amongst all stars
Venus ushering in silky bolts of shadows...
The evening wefting and warping
In tricky descent.
Rose a few glimmers of other Stellas,
Treyas and Estelles less prominent,
Divas in their own right, dots of mystical
After thoughts random dropped
On blue green muslin slowly darkening
Its ink....gravitas, celebrating,
Accelerating towards rich velour.
My child threw his head back and kick started
The merry go round, one foot dangling,
Hanging on to handlebars with two hands and a
Casual foot slung in....
Spherical velocity tensing tiny muscles,
breathless, laughing in dizzy merriment,
Circling his field of joy, his centrifugal dreams.
I wish I could have seen his small patch of sky.
Before centripetally predetermined course
Lulled him into it's pull of order.
My own mouthful of dreams fading in the west
Where trees joined palms to fan ancient breeze...
Gentle vespers....whispered
Namaste....
Divinity ardent, self supplications
Of an universe,
God's prayer wheel in motion
In praise of His constant glory.
Dazzling exhibit, stupefaction of senses
The artist's masterpiece on display.
Piercing my heart into a million brilliant shards
Small jagged pieces
Of puzzling beauty...
I must put together some day
Before this world draws its fine net mesh of
Oblivion over my greedy eyes...
Before the luminous shards can pierce
My suffused lungs
Astounding breath.
Forever drinking beauty...
The fire of Djinns and Gods.
The allure of attar sprinkles into the aroma
Of roses and marigolds
Memories like silt deposits
Of miracles.
I cannot take in enough....
salting away the stunning
sadness of night claiming day forever
Its herald,
Offered such fleeting
Stewardship.
Bright lights up on high,
Pavement of stars
Astonishing luminaries
Mend or amend our
Broke back dreams...
I have been baptized by Day.
Venus lead me bright beauty
Into yonder stellar Night.
© Amrita Valan 2015
The Church
The church smelled of roses
Honeyed mead on drunken air
fair dreams flowering
Upon the holy vine
Of hour upon silent hour,
And every man who walked in
Left his ardent hopes as prayer.
I searched for sorrow but it was gone
In goodness consumed as water into wine
So fearful tears of doom and gloom
To divine providence softly transformed
In this room.
I looked up grave, saw slanting tiles brick red
Deep and dark ebony beams inlaid
Two grateful hands folded in praise
For highest roof over all mortal heads.
The snow white iron trelliswork, held brass
Sconces budding crystal chandeliers,
Light merrily flitted through, in and out,
Denuding skeletal terror of our nightmares.
I glanced up wondrous then, at the crowned
And sceptred Mother, holding baby boy in pride
And quietly together they firmly proclaimed
A promise, to be our help and guide,
From legions of man-made unholy beasts
Love so true in this vast room of infinitude
where Mother and Son, you and I,
Finite - infinite become
Forever One.
So beautiful my state of sumptious trance
A feast for saddened heart, which hath supped alone.
Without the splendid sun, and within the sunlit dark
Soft stained glass shimmered and flickered like
doors to sweet Heaven above.
And thus,
And so,
The bread turned flesh
The fruit ripened into soul
The wine infused into our veins
Becoming blood transfused
Of the Holy Spirit in all...
Man made afresh
In a poem of his own
Where heart befriends
Passion and peace.
And in this hollow most hallowed shell
This sarcophagus of ancient jewels
Man's secret search come true
His commitment made firm purposeful
Reigned a brilliant peace, a white insanity
Crackling zeal, frenzied zenith of joy,
Above and beyond spires of worldly ambition,
Beyond human heart's helical earthy passions
That can be felt, not seen till eyes close in lovely peace.
Glimmers ethereal of eternal power
Freedom's surreal universal bowers
fragrant with love's perfume
Loving wisdom in sweet radiant shower
Forever rolling....aglow, a cosmic sea
A source beyond consciousness and
Its endless stream,
Beyond the backyard of Time's flow of hours
Lies Godhood, lies behind our eyes and
Tortuous sight....
A palpable poetic certitude.
That which is forever free
Will always be
Sparkling cider wine from this water of life
This wafer thin flesh separating you and me.
An internally perceived imperial
Empirical Sea...overhung with regal globe of Godly
Gold ...Stunning Sun of Truth
Forevermore's Most Holy See.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Weekly Challenge Poem
Crimson pearls organically grown
Below waist of denuded goddess
Ruby hued Rapunzel.
Even her back blushed erubescent
Exposed to view.
She came alive untwining
From her cocooned coccyx
A scandalous scarlet chrysalis
Rosy rubenesque nymph
Incarnadine Bathsheba
David's Solomon dreams.
A singular sinful rose red garland
A harlot majestically on lewd display
She aroused pelvic portals
Cavorting Caliph's cerise pleasure
Somewhere between a fragrant vibrant
bud, a living luscious beauty
And a red petaled Bella Donna in
Resplendent display.
Lady of nude sinuous grace
Blooming through trappings
Sensuous dream in satiny lace
Innocence preening coyly,
Peeping through
Red velvet stays.
© Amrita Valan 2015
The Way In.
Ivy encrusted emerald gate
Tall dark silent empty fate
Hung about the castle
Such misty musty air
Another climate, an
Alien atmosphere
Prevailed there.
I ebbed in with my
Indifference
Ignoring abject pleas
From my soul,
Irrationally irreverant.
The trees stood up like pistol shots
Springing to salute my morbid thoughts
The sky above drooled blue greed
To suck away my soulful needs.
The air so hard and harsh and crisp
A bat could wing its way
Through rustling it.
My madness was a solitary pain
I desired to be crushed
Redeemed by reddening sin
To be poison elixir and bleed the rusted heart
Leech my soul out of
Its asthmatic mildewed dust.
Simply I speak of a desire to see
If the fires of hell could liven me
If God shied away would Devil's
paw
Set me terribly free.
All constraints barred at the door
My heart was a thumping corridor
Where if I turned the corner of reason
And dived in through my painful seasons
The portal closes and
This earthly dice rolls, ne'er
Ere again to turn to my
Favor .
I cried, in crazy grieving start and pause,
Jacob robbed Esau,
Yet flourished with nary a loss...
Who the sinner, who the saint?
A sleight of hand a Messiah's feint.
I kiss my Judas kiss and the threshold cross
Who died for me,
A coin's treacherous toss.
In the dark he greeted me
With blue locks of livid flame
He licked me
Clean
Pain and memory became the sin
With hideous cillia arms
he locked me in.
I became the bloody Rubicon
The hideous one eyed unicorn
The red lantern glow from
The House upon Evil's Hill
Where the windows glow
Through the mist they flow
Into your dreams,
Till He finds the key
To your heart and opens
the tender lock
And automaton you sleeping walk
And turn the handle of evil
And enter the door,
From where
You may never return
Evermore.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Hope and Hurt
Why should I write you feel good lines?
Why do you need me to inspire you?
Why can't poetry be about my blues?
And tell me true, Don't you ever feel beat?
And if my ink wallows in defeat,
Why isn't it cathartic?
Why must we tag it defeatist
Doom and gloom?
All you pie in the sky cutsie pie poets
Who write as if flowers eternally
Bloom, burgeoning outside your
Nine to five dungeons,
And birds chirrup in tasteful decorum...
Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!
Tell me the crow doesn't caw too harsh
for your polite tucked in ears
Tell me the Nightingale does not weep
Or the cuckoo coo in derision
Or the owl gaze terrifyingly ochre red upon your
delicate limpid vision?
I shall not throw up an entire emetic list
And tactfully, ( I hope!), shall desist
From calling poets of your high calling
Safe art house escapists.
I won't because I realize
We all don't sweat blood fire and ice,
That some of us are really truly nice,
And appreciate each facet of life.
These darling daffodils
Wave and nod sagely in April breeze
Upon steely stalks of sunny will
They can ignore ignominious vagaries...
For this Life can only taunt
And ghosts can only haunt
Those who believe
It should have been much better than this
Or
Hand me the instruction manuals please!
Let's do this teaser life
With joy and fun,
Hope and hurt
Hide and seek
Meeting to depart...
And let us know
Why
It has to end with us all
Six feet down under
Looking up deadpan
While those who weep
At our departure
Look stunned,
skywards for an invisible soul
And make up pretty tales
How it all ends well
With safe homecoming and
Immortal happy hours
Without fail,
Eternal life
That never goes stale!
Oh lead me too,
To your magic
Wishing well.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Vast
Bleak blue skies multiply into black vaccum
Our pater noster elevator
Of ascent and descent
But the nascent joy all erased by
Pending ever poignant
Vacancy's imminence.
We are quietly bade adieu
To make space.
Into the universe's vast entrails
The cosmic limbs spatter our dry powdered blood
Into milky veins of blue streams, our frozen
Dreams
In hideous band rictus.
Life is the malignancy that
Multiplies without cure.
The cancer of the starry
Cosmos.
Where are our parents?
Our brave immigrant Grandparents?
Our Viking and pioneer
Ancestors?
Where are they but,
Beloved blue dust roaming space
Haunting you and me
By their bizarre act
Vanishing onto
Nothingness?
In the very act of loving
Our heart screams
Wailing shocked silence
It shall end.
Beloved dearly met,
We part, in vain
This unearthly closeness
Where vaccum seals us
Into Magdeburg's hemispheres.
The photographs on the wall
Corridor life's endless
Journey
Replicated pain of living,
Loving and moving on
Without destination.
The arid deserts
Of Hell, the snug smugness
Of Heaven...would be less biting,
Comfort less cold.
Reincarnation almost makes
Sense,
Karma morphs into blessing.
The universal dust
Opens us up
Makes us release and reflect
its tints and shades
Attenuated for the sensory bliss
Of sheer passage
Through moments
That are regurgitation
Of Time.
We are sentience.
Swallowed by God's gulp,
A big birthday binge, gluttonous
Clash and bang of inevitabilities,
A far away crunching of every probable
Provable number
Remorseless and remote
Eventuality.
We are strangers
Making intimate love
Creating vessels
Of unutterably intense beauty
Singing passionate ode
To fragility...
One last sigh for breath denied,
In our passing.
© Amrita Valan 2015
I long for the raised voice, the howl of rage or love.... Lupine head raised in protest swearing by Selene above
I long for the day the lion and the lamb together in truth may rove
Then indeed the rage of angels may merge with the peace of doves.
I long for the pride of passion, the readiness to pay the price
The dousing of wild fires of unrest, with truth and not with empty lies.
I long for the courageous vibrant heart that carries conviction to defiance roar
The heart of steel wed to stainless soul that braves mort for couer d'amour.
And I don't want the voice of ledger balances, or of profit and trial and loss
Clipped measured and unctuous soft, but the inspired tortured voice screaming from yon high cross....
The voice of the God forsaken whose faith unwavering, is never tossed
I long for the voice that battles for love...unafraid of the highest costs.
© Amrita Valan 2015
You think you can't hurt anymore
You have sealed the escape clauses
Sealing waxed the envelope of
Emotions, written postscript
To pain and it's subtle causes.
But little did you know that pain is fine art
Like beauty it elevates the human heart
To new highs of the inexpressible lows
Love that's inexhaustible, consumes you so.
You accept that the feeings are yours alone
And allow yourself to quietly mourn
Indifference can't, so help you God...
Hurt you again
But the Master teacher infinite pain
Stirs the wound and serrates the heart
With cold collected deliberate laugh
And with his easy sleight of hand
You very nearly fall apart.
I cannot feign the smile, it freezes up my face
Into a horrific mask
I cannot move once nimble hands, that numb while going about its tasks
I can only resist my curious urge to ask...
Is it over, shall we lift this sentence then?
From prisons of dull possession
Release this heart again?
I wish to continue to care, in a carefree manner
cozy and secure, easy of spirit to bear any departure
I don't even mind whose you're anymore
A healthy core of defiance almost heals all sores
Perhaps you think of me, I hope you do
I want me to be a happy thought, for you
A spasm of light fleeting through
More pretty than painful.
Therein lies the rub....
My wanting, my wanton lust
For approval...and your trust
When you and I must be
Forever separate entities.
Remember me then if you will
Even if with a gleeful grin, at my clowning still
Sometimes love is as simple as an act of will
And my pain is just a reminder that
This wound too shall heal.
But this wanting you to approve the mask I wear
Undoes it and exposes what I forebear
I love you is an easy truth.
I am not sorry to admit it or even
How easily we fell apart
I am ashamed of only
What we never understood.
Can you fly without growing wings?
Can a crow turn to Nightingale and sing?
Can you stand up without the use of feet?
How can you fall in love
With no ground underneath?
Just as you were so are you now
Beautiful sorrowful wise somehow
Pain pays its surprise visit
To throw us off course
Buy into it, and it shows no remorse.
There's no pain, no longing, no desire,
Quench your thirst with love poured out
Willingly, from heart soul and mind,
To every fault generously blind
put out the wildfire... When hearts are
Misaligned.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Vision
Silk scarf, pale gleaming thighs
Swish of silk, she walks by
The rainy evening swooning low
Teetering on high heels.
Soft focus of matchless jasper eyes
Delectably embroidered
lashes.
The hollow heart creaks, the winds sigh,
Yet she looks neither left nor right
Her vista stellar, ethereal.
Pallid creamy demeanor's satin soft
Langurous effects, dream deep,
Counterpoising swift sashay of
Sinuous silken limbs.
She is a goddess splashing a rainy
wake of tears on your evening's parade
The froth rimming over the top
Of your cafe latte,
Her eyes, a distant dream
Alien to your invasion.
Her veiled mystique
A subtle revelation
The winning edge that
leaves you longing and
Lounging in hideous cafes
For a chance lottery win
A dash with hurried splendor
Hidden hopes, rendezvous
Envisioned in charming
gardens of pleasure...such
Soft secret, sinful offerings,
visionary beauty's
unconscious alms.
© Amrita Valan 2015
False Play
Why?, I ask myself,
Do I crave that silk route
Paved neatly ... .With distinct
Blue threaded borders,
not crazy paving, or flagstones
Edged with sharp pebbles
But neat contained geometric tiles?
Why can't I enjoy what's ahead
Even the devil ephemeral,
The dark rocks abysmal
Below the rising hopefilled waves
That crash and fall eternally
Into the deep blue sea?
Why do I long to swim
In a China bowl
Like a gratuitous goldfish?
Life is grace and gratitude for
Existing
Not a dilettante's watering hole.
I do not want love anymore
I do not want to ace your score
On survival.
I abhor the jungle exploration
The jingoism, the war cries
The taking of sides,
The faking of loyalties and love
Do I want to die?
You see how
It comes back
Full circle to
Love..?
So it was, is and will be.
But Love with bells on
And a merry fool's cap
Love without regrets
Love sans longing....
'Tis a wisdom of sorts
To be
bereft of ego
Simple of soul,
Who licks wounds clean of
Bitterness
Whose sadness is salve or mere madness
Not a castigating bed of nails
Or self flagellation.
Life, easy on me now,
I don't need a bed of roses
But a few plucky posies
To be picked
Along the wayward wanton
Trail.
Its not about goodbye or see you again
But far more about,
We were well met,
My friends.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Writer Highlight Featuring: Amrita Valan
Posted on June 12, 2015 by RAJA'S INSIGHTLeave a comment
Shining of last light
Four ahead two yet to breach
Passover to night
© Copyright, Amrita Valan 2015
Response to our Inspiration Call on June 9, 2015
www.facebook.com/Creativetalentsunleashed
Photo Credit: © ASO
On 07-Jun-2015 3:59 pm, wrote:
When I was just a girl of ten
I wanted to write
About my countrymen
I had such noble ideas in my head
Now I forgot them
Theyre laying dead.
I could sit upon the empty hour
Gaze upon a cloud or flower
I was not of pseudo maturity
To make grief my perpetuity.
A song recital a friendly plan
Was visit enough to wonderland
We didn't need expensive treats
Huge happy hearts on tiny hip hop feet
As if it was a holiday
And God had blessed the main event
Picnicking on the peaks
After ardous happy trails uphill.
The children they're the truly wise
Jesu knew the real Magi
He cradled them upon his knees
Living loving philosophies.
And I am going to write
Bit more of joy
And less of tears
My happiness of yesteryears
Didn't happen in vain
Talisman shunning pain
Neutralizing the acid rain
Bottle up the pungent fears
Put it out in the moonlit garden
More hardy gnomes shall
Take care of our ugly hardware
Our insipid tears for implicit fears
Cut glass rosettes of sorrow,
Crystals for their doorstep.
And a handful of passion's
Pebbles petrified
Left behind
On the path of life
Each minute beckoning
Become
Reckless
Living is not for reckoning.
Living is
Happening.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Really ready
To take off...now
No G forces stopping me
Anymore
I shall steal some stellar dust
Ere I return
From dusky damascene gardens
Of coyote cosmic flowers.
I will be light as chiffon or silk serviette
In vaccum
A syph threading Sufi mythos
Through worm holes
My wefting warp speed
Undaunted unicorn pure
Yes, the distance, dark
Heart stopping.
Buoyant in vaccum
Without relief
Joyful jaunty Jedi belief
Que sera sera
Always
Forever.
©Amrita Valan 2015
Ogden Nash Challenge.
Incantate invoke and lie no more
If lewd July knocks on your door
July languid, July loony!
Humorous soft sweet and funny
July sarcastic swift to impatience
July surpassing all magical essence
Always deserting, forever true.
I love July, I love you.
Blyton Days
Light elfan thin as sprite
An elfan wraith who dreamt delight
Her flights to fancied Wonderlands
Magical mischief managed and planned.
She went for rides on wishing chairs
Forgetting every little care
She swung far out and away
Always espying a brighter day.
Up on the heights of a Far-away tree
Each branch leaning away from me
A highway into Haven's clouds
No passports required, entry allowed.
For bold of heart and free of mind.
Into settlements of different kinds.
Lovely discoveries such exotic finds
Dryads in the air and nymphs on limbs.
Sweet subtle golden bones
Pinched in cheeks
And quiet as stone.
Bright eyes gleam unjaded
Welcoming surprises unexpected
Oh! sunny childhood heart of mine.
Of soft gentler childhood climes.
She dangled from steel railings of apartment staircases
Imagining descent from ancient city turrets
And winding staircases all in her mind
In pastel pink shorts and bright yellow tee
Have you seen the little girl who her grandma came to see?
We all get lost, us little girls....somewhere in the deep dark woods...
Eyes blinded by sharp tormenting twigs,
Till we have understood
Her heart hides in you and me.
© Amrita Valan 2015
The Lily says, the lily says ...
What does the Lily say?
The violet looks askance...
What does the violet pray?
The red rose the sensuous rose
Sways to and fro...
Flirting with her lover the wind
What thoughts from her do flow?
The daisy sighs...
The daffodils smile..
The marigold bends demure
My heart beds with solace
In a place safe and secure.
Where flowers walk
And flowers talk
Where mercy and compassion
On tender stalks
Whisper soft Ave
To bright new day
And close their lustrous dewy eyes
Fearlessly as
each day dies.
Now I know the flowers unspoken tongue
The language of ethereal grace
The lily says bless my purity.
Keep me white always.
The violet whispers....her innocent wish
Modesty embalm my lore
Let my soft hues of lavender
Lay carpet upon earth's floor
The rose is sonorous dulcetto
Calling ardent to the breeze
Let every petal unfold and fall
My lover's heart to tease.
The daisy chain of merry maids
Want you with me, to gladness wed
The daffodil bulbs blossom and bud
Happy April trails of goodness flood
Over hills and vales
And hard travails
A flower bows its graceful head
To tell a tale, narrates loveliness
Oh! marigold you say it well,
When you quietly pray
that your holy mother's spirit
Bends and
Over us dwell
No woman alone
No love deserted
Nothing required
Nothing unwanted.
Release wistfully
Love unrequited
It perfumes the air
And makes heaven of hell
When you hold on to naught
In every heart you dwell.
In sombre memories
In softest breeze
In young hearts and old
And verily
In Flowers everywhere
Amethysts rubies and gold.
Keep the faith
You know your path
This is your hour, your place.
Nothing that's truly felt
Fails to leave
A trace.
© Amrita Valan 2015
Shy Shy-Lhen Esposo Hawks
Sweet dreams Shy ...you deserve them.
Gentle and endearing.
No reservations or hesitations
You embrace friendship and sing it
With sweet joy.
Your nature compassionate
And yet so playful
I am learning still
How beautiful the rose you unfold
Shy uninhibited
Shy sensitive
Shy you never shied away
From ordinary people.
You use your heart so well
Its more powerful than the biggest brain.
I am learning my dear friend
Your sweet words give me strength
To love everyone everywhere
Just the way you do.
And my hand outstretched
I call you my friend
Though distance between us vast
And I know we will not meet
On the cold rainy days of my heart
I will feel your gentle breeze
Soft embrace kind
Of my friend
So far away
But from now on
Always forever
In my precious memories.
Always forever a friend Amrita Valan
Thank you.
Heart lighting up glowing like stars
Warm hugs my son, sleeping upon my lap
And the road goes on eating up rough miles
The car hums a tune of silence...savored.
Two ruler straight lines white demarcating blues
Every mile of the way reminding
stay your course and consciously... choose.
I smile and I cry
I stop then I start
I wonder I'm certain
I choose to let go.
I win when I lose
And miss only ghosts
When I'm mourning for loss.
But my present stirs wide awake
Tomorrow's expectant rose
A lotus unfolding in langour
Relishing the lake.
Droopy soft petals on limbre lily stalks
Fast asleep innocence my incentive to walk
My reason to be this flesh and blood rock.
Pluck my violin bow of inspiration
courage to strum to the beat of life's drum
pick up puzzles of jigsaw pieces....
Create carefully the correct picture
The course always considered
And starry avenues dared.
The goals forgotten yet must be won.
All else is scenic beauty...
Roadside vistas in between miles of duty...
Chug along briskly hum a little tune
Forge a path paved wiith love's strength
Not with futility's doom
Dreams of wayside beauty I save in a shrine
For days when my heart can carve a room out of
This monastery of mine
This private garden this sacred bower
Where I grow my own two dear flowers...
They are my heart's delight.
I will live, their needs are my
Solace and ground my soul indeed.
And I will cherish the notion of love.
Check and curb and weed out my excessive need
To be needed by another heart.
My heart is my own.
To it let me attend.
And not count the return
For the love I freely send.
I will live and learn to forgive
Life, I thank you for
All my bounties
Forgive my neediness
I cannot cherry pick your gift.
All rights reserved
© Amrita Valan 2015
I started writing this....reading a shop sign which said Bangalore Ibiza London. I dont think i can write anymore.
Death before decay
Decay before rejuvenation
Brick by brick
Building castles in the air
abysses and abscesses
Yours constrict
Mine are defensive
Delicate and decadent
Bangalore Ibiza London
I lay my hat in heaven
Bridge the gap between
Imagination and reality
Heavy hearts
Ramparts strung with ivy
Moats unbridgeable
Your turrets too taunting
Touch base with unreality
Blue veins in my throat
A severed boa constrictor.
The basement of denigration
Debilitating debris
The dilettante lost in her life p
Park...
Lost without bearings.
And that day it rained
Deep and beautiful
Like angels with violins
Strumming the streets of
Heaven
Baptize my mourning.
I want the base deep within
No conflict no secret crypt
Amicable flexible i want
Starlit stability
Strong winds shake me
To my cores
Don't, break me
No more.
I don't belong in dungeons
I can't occupy ivory towers
Of abstraction
Bedrooms are sexy boudoirs
Of tainted carnations
Study is secluded monastic
Prevarication..a
Vacuous preoccupation.
I'm precocious.
I'm surface feeder
Bottom breeder
I cling to hope and fancy.
I
Create and construct.
No matter i dont own a
Dot in your commercial arena.
No matter i dont matter.
I cling to the decorous
Depths of fantasy.
I'm insignificant
But i wear it like royal
Insignia
I flaunt it like reality
My soul is survivor
Immersed in
Holocausts of denial.
I am a wanderer,
I'm breaking into beginnings
Resurrection tenuous tedious
Reincarnated in
Falling.
When i wrote this
You were asleep
And when you awaken
I will be in dreams
Of possession
Dreams of opportunities
Of belonging
And being your capture
Your calling
My erstwhile suitor
I will be in dreams
Beyond reckonings.
All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Burrs
Brittle burn the worst kind
Can you squeeze or wringe out
Pain
Bit of pride always
Helps,
Ashamed...
To cry is slavery.
I'm alive
feeling in every atom
You're now my bandaged mummy
Cellulose swiftly drying...
Keep away if you wish
Keep reeling in new bait
Reeking of decayed debris.
But i think that I love
You very much
Your latest choice
Elevates you far above my
Reign,
I'm glad to be sad
In this certain way.
Mind heart soul
I abdicate
The stubborn child who grows
Is better than the
Aberrant adult who tried
To be more than she
Could ever be.
I love you very much.
I lose you
Undefeated
Eyes hotter than the midday sun
Glowing with regret,
Brittle burrs of pain bursting soft
Yet contained.
I am regally scorned,
Your woman spurned.
Stupid strip tease gawking heart
Now
Burn, burn, burn.
All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
