Sculpting a hybrid scene

I always had a reverence for those fluid mythological mirrors –the cosmic girl, her words made flesh, the self-‘othering’,the bickering between the new and the almost-forgottenfor the “I’m sorry……you feel threatened by my presenceand bewildered by my absence”The message – once uncannily cryptic, embedding itselfin the adamant lucidity of the conspicuous,now – in your face,Continue reading “Sculpting a hybrid scene”

May Queen

I shut my eyes and let her caress mewith her veils, scents, and many voicesthat touch me in moonlight-tinted spaces;a mother figure, playful yet collected-forgiving minor sins, sighs, disguises,the slight disturbances of extinguished raptures,in a glimpse of purity,in my unknown gestures of kindness –towards myself and others – she sawa potential for lightnessShe rewards theContinue reading “May Queen”

Nausea

When the whole world is drenchedin performative glue,you feel everything’s taintedstill, you want your mind re-paintedso you can try to pursuethe myth that it’s all about perspective:treat it like a tool or an ordeal, right?it doesn’t always hold up, especially at nightwhen you try to untwineyour hair and your spinewhen one insightcan incite a riotContinue reading “Nausea”

Rite of passage

the texture of hell can seep through a broken mind,but its lingering echoes will leave a marklooking ahead, I see parks filled with disease,a small, kaleidoscopic winter coat wrapped arounda phantasmal presence that screams:I am Home- I am a haunted homewhere it rains. her hand reaches out towipe the morning dewoff a snowdrop lostin theContinue reading “Rite of passage”

November light

Dark November, darling November,my birth month, a glorified timeof contradictions,of re-emergence from dreams, wearing adornments and smiles of miss “seen it all, heard it all”Scorpio depth, shrewd intuition,and inner power-It’s nature and nurtureeven when the nurturing is donein a glass castleit is said that art is life intensified,heightened experienceis this what it was, an artisticContinue reading “November light”

Labyrinth

Within this labyrinth-sacred lair, profane shrine-I roam to banish anhedoniaI am seeking somethingI know I have in me-an elusive landof ecstasy and renewalMy mercurial mind feeds and fights with itself in the processThere are two main levels of feeling I acknowledge as relevant-the bipolarity is astounding, solet’s just focus on the second one,I wish IContinue reading “Labyrinth”

Her Rebirth

Haunted by Ophelia’s phantom,enraptured by vernal murmurs,she succumbs to dreaminesslost in the streamof consciousnesscarried away by Woolf’s whispersand echoes of myth froma scent of white Narcissus-fluid nostalgia in full bloom-she remembers her touchbefore the plunge;the sacred memory shattersunderwater-her pale skin resurfaces-she is beaming;her alter ego withersunderwaterNature witnesses an act of self-love.

A poem: Sakura season

The world was sick – physically, mentally,we were part of the minority left uncontaminated.My calcified shell unravelleddown by the riveramong sentient trees,shimmering shrines,underneath celestial splendour,next to your magnetic presence;Bonded by the common revulsion atdestructive forces, we were here for the artof letting go, unburdening the heart,re-emerging from ourselves,this arcane ritual, this sacred moment,this hallowed place-IContinue reading “A poem: Sakura season”

A poem: The ark

I dream of emerald grass,sapphire waves,idle legs shimmering on marble,crystalline laughterI miss this-Do I miss myself-this self?let’s enjoy it while it lastsbefore the tide of darkness floodsour frail worldI want a fresh view:we unfold – the tides unfoldwe walk on waterwe get to the ark-how do we lift the anchor?it’s so heavy, heavy, reflectingthe heaviness ofContinue reading “A poem: The ark”

A poem: Velvet glove

An iron hand in a velvet glove, soft veils over roots unwavering- your core, honey-mouthed- your discourse, your silence.   Within, there is the hibernating alpha-serpent, awaiting resurrections- you bathe in the light of her uttered incantations.   You spot the red flags of the dark triad, you never wave white flags, for there’s noContinue reading “A poem: Velvet glove”