The Test

Emer!

His moments

Momentary was his state of existence , momentarily interwoven with a myriad of emotions that ate up his memorable moments of life. Had he ever imagined, he would have fallen prey to the introspection of his mind that swayed and twisted the then moments he had craved for!

His yearning was to feel life and not enjoy it; to relish his soul than to satiate it with pleasure; to wonder and not to get admired; to learn and not to teach; to free himself rather than holding the bonds of his family.

As for him, everything was momentary; lying to the supposition in his own hands which could meet an abrupt and deliberate sophisticated end.

                                       - Maria Cluston Cletus. 

Wonderwall

You - My ethereal monsoon

Seasons, have I felt and seen;

But the sight of you was the onset of

the first drop of monsoon.

Oh! How I craved to be drenched in thy showers of care.

And, when you sensed my yearnings,

You did allow me to feel it,

Though momentary!

-As you are the monsoon & you never stay around.

But when I know that my cravings were not futile;

I’d; with honest love, prayers and hope

Await thy return….

Your voice resonates in my head...

   On a moment’s notice, even without knowing who you are,

I became enamored by you.

Now I fail to realize what I’ve become…

I fancy listening to your voice. It is like a gentle touch that sends chills through my entire body.

A touch of unspoken words and facts that are yet to be spoken.

At times, I’m forced to render your lips motionless from uttering anything; by pressing my lips against yours. Now I can feel your unspoken words, stealthily finding an escape route to my heart, drenching my entire body with your voice.

Though my eyes have become a stranger to your physical existence, I sigh no regrets but my heart aches and my eyes fill up every time, I fail to listen to your conjuring words…..

All I mumble against the pounding of my heart – “I miss your presence”

She swayed...

Being Black is Poetic - II

I see you in black, beautifully clad;

Near my body which has given away to the dark.

For once you came to see me last, I’m glad,

But to another world devoid of fancies, I embark.

Is it for paying homage that you wore black?

Or is it to relive those moments we both cradled!

They dressed me up in scented whites but not in black,

With white lily flowers and satin laced coffin, I lay cuddled.

Hymns rise along with the incense as prayers for me,

I see you eyeing me with unbearable pangs of strife.

Never regret that you are unable to find a replacement for me,

For I lived and craved for an ordinary life.

I’ll end up in purgatory, for all those heinous acts done;

Shoving aside the up-front choices of heaven and hell.

Remember that life is short and things done can’t be undone,

For I ended up in the altar, to witness my knell.

You - II

I slept in your arms marinated in love

I wished you were mine, but I know nothing that your heart commands.

I knew it might be momentary

But you never knew how much it would cost me,

To trade myself to the darkness that haunted me.

You let me go and now I’m sinking….

Being black is Poetic- I

I reek melancholy,

My room smells nothing but isolation;

My soul bleeds wildly,

And I .....

Suffer from depression.

P.S:Feelings culminating from heart: I need help.

Dated: 11/01/2018 @ 6.45 pm.

You - I

I like the way you and your memories resonates in my head.

Like a breeze on a day of spring,

Like a leaf moving along with the wind, my eyes move along with the images of yours that flutters in a direction unknown.

You impregnated me with your breath, you exhaled and I bore you silently swearing my love…

Lost, Love & Life

Profundity

Fraility

Passion in his eyes!

Apple of my eye...

Monsoon Diaries - IX #Sensual rain.

"Your sensuous eyes with clouded brows,

glares at my body, with lust profound;

 And when I lift my head up,

out of curiosity; you come as though

 you are determined to...

You feel my forehead, my eyes and my lips,

You never fail to hold my hand;

And you flow down my neck with

                             tickling passion. 

You embrace me, close to your chest 

 Where my hip is never amiss." 

                                        -to be continued...

 

Amour-Excerpts from my mind # 5

Drugged-Excerpts from my mind # 4

Mercy-Excerpts from my mind #3

Soul -Excerpts from my mind #2

Urge - Excerpts from my mind #1

Karl Ove Knausgard : My unclear reflection

                                            "I have no problem with uninteresting or unoriginal people – they may have other, more important attributes, such as warmth, consideration, friendliness, a sense of humor or talents such as being able to make a conversation flow to generate an atmosphere of ease around them, or the ability to make a family function – but I feel almost physically ill in the presence of boring people who consider themselves especially interesting and who blow their own trumpets.” 

It was ever since I came across Karl Ove Knausgard, I began to realize the pain and frankness in his words. 

                     “All my adult life I have kept a distance from other people, it has been my way of coping, because I become so incredibly close to others in my thoughts and feelings of course, they only have to look away dismissively for a storm to break inside me.”  

I see him as a never ending phenomenon; where he acts not as a person but as a life of events. That's how his writings have transported me to be what is known as a state of extreme truth.

Pain

Held, I my hands

Across my chest.

And gasped a breath

That ached my soul...

Tainted with grief 

and of lose,

I never knew; it pained my heart...

'Where was my heart',

Was my inner call.

All I knew,

"It was bottled somewhere in

    matters mysterious."

Exodus