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Archive for the ‘lust’ Category

Today the topic on Sunday Scribbling  is ‘Forbidden’. So here are the thoughts that popped out when I heard the ‘forbidden’ word…

Cunning darkness of deepest night

made her to step outside

Millions stars of lonely moonless sky

made her eyes to shine

Salacious beauty landed on her soul

fluttering tickling into nerves

Love for his hushed whispers in rain

Made her to sleep in his arms

forbidden transition

in

un forbidden love

of

forbidden feelings

under

un forbidden eternity

of

forbidden freeness

gave her

un forbidden ecstasy

with

forbidden blessings

 

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PHATIC SACRAMENT

I would have surely get caught

in those mesmerizing eyes with

mascara radiating vivid desires

in illusion of blithe spirit that

resides somewhere inside heart

making me a promiscuous man

I would have surely thank God

at that moment that He made me

Blind

In your deep heart you know

I have set my heart on your eyes

In my heart of hearts I wish

odious desire for you to be blind

to have with you my final words of

‘Phatic Sacrament’ 

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Words flitting from

heart to heart

embracing seductive breeze

of dusk and dawn

mesmerizing

you and me with

marijuana aroma.

Anesthetic moonlight

elicited truth

of tear on dry rose

questioning

why to create love fable

for end is sure to come.

why to parabolize feeling

for truth is hard to find.

Where is truth, that you want

for blood tranquilizes

millions narcotics of infidelity.

Let me come

and bury myself in your lap

Let me see

how it feels to suffer

when sedative marijuana

makes me ‘you’ and you ‘me’

Why to ask questions

when every answer reflects

in simplicity of soporific marijuana.

Let me become MARIJUANA for YOU!

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Give me six, seven, eight, nine……

senses

to see the real ecstasy of sunset

    when memory whispers to cross my soul and reaches you

to touch the lines of my palm

    when I know every touch can make me sane like nirvana

to taste euphoria of smile

    when every giggle reflects wicked jest of my life

to smell mine amiable eternal aroma 

    when I put one step on lust cloud and another on bliss

to hear the void echoes of love

    when I know heartbeat is just vibration sonnet running from me to you

Give me six, seven, eight, nine………

senses……..

to see, to touch, to taste, to smell, to hear…………..what they call………..LIFE!

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Sometimes I think

to fictionize myself

as that trendy girl

making my life

little bit daedal

little bit elemental

sometimes I feel

to vomit out complexity

believing mystery is what

you love to solve.

The inquisitive mystery in

my vibrant lipstick

my blackish mascara

or the pinkish blusher.

with me in salacious dress.

Sometimes my heart

makes me to believe

innocence can never

give birth to mystery.

Simplicity cannot shout

for it is always confined

in some rigid walls of mind.

May be I hold somewhere

some misleading, absurd,

foolish and adulterated

definition of ‘innocence’ and ’simplicity’.

Everyone shouted

to change, to adapt to be a

pixyish, whimsical woman.

I tried and grossed out

“I have to change to get love”

But that was not easy

not because

my trail was not vigorous

but because

I have started to think

“How I will hold the end?”

They can make me to learn

the game rules

and how to play

creating mysterious mystery.

But I am the only one

to end the game.

For I always feared void, end,

the end – beginning of nothingness.

For I always love to play the game

with my heart and my soul. 

I will be the loser

in both the ways. 

Sometimes I think,

If I give my hand to you,

You will surely hold it

not because you want to hold it for life

but because you want to help me

to cross the road.

Sometimes I wonder

‘crossing the road’ is

far better and simpler

than creating the mystery to seize you!

 

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I sat besides you

to see

a similitude of hearts,

trying to match lines

of my right palm

with the lines

of your left palm.

For I always heard

resemblance floats

in HIS right hand

with HER left hand.

A search of love!

-ridiculous search

-foolish mind

-ludicrous hope

-unbelievable truth

but

– sprightliness of heart!

My trial to finish an agreement

between my soul and my body!

I wonder

Why can’t I know my love from

his enlightened eyes

his playful touch

his soft hairs

his tranquil kiss

or his halcyon hug!

Why?

I wonder

about these dead lines,

carrying  my love, my soul!

I hallowed my prayers,

in front of deity, my God.

Unknowingly to see one day,

some ‘identity’ ‘resemblance’!

electricity fierced my body,

some unseen darkness,

‘pralay’ took earth below my feet!

Are ‘YOU’ my soulmate,

How can I see my left lines

on this deity’s right hand?

Search is still continuing…….

not for ‘YOU’

but for the painter

who painted ‘YOU’,

painting your left hand

exactly like my right hand!

I wonder and I am still wondering…….

Who are you, my painter, my love, my soulmate?

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Why can’t I write anything reflecting jubilant, ravishing and happy mood! OKay, okay…..I will try! Earlier I had fobia of writing any romantic poem. I could never pen down some simple love words. And now I am having difficulity in writing any happy, mushy and soft poem!

Today I tried to write and amazingly started with heartfelt lines, but more it went further, more it grapsed some sorrow. Why? Is it like this, that all kinds of fevers are clutted deep down in my soul? Noway…..I will surely write my happy poem one day!

So, today my mind (hopefully heart also) gave me these lines……..

A salty hope

admixed with sparkling smile

coming out from mind of diversion

Seemly gesture given to the sunset

To welcome night of totality.

                 

A salty moment

admixed with mysterious rollickingness

coming out from mind of mystery

Freakish behavior given to love

To welcome blizzard of perplexity.

 

A salty touch

admixed with insensate solace

coming out from salacious ambiance

Rueful plight given to this enigma

To welcome some unkown dead hope.

 

I read somewhere in some blog (don’t remember now) – Kahil Gibran says there is nirvana in writing the last time of your poem. Looks like this is not the end of the poem. But what can be after this? I am unable to think. Can ‘dead hope’ be called nirvana?

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