Stop fucking poetry.
“it’s easy to be a writer in 2019”
Continue reading Stop fucking poetry.
what makes you think it’s easy
to be a writer ever?
Some get traumatized
by bullying or an early divorce or assault
and they write war cries
down on paper. Every syllable, every decibel,
screaming louder than their oppressors.
It’s the scream, the pain, the voice
Some stay happy
because everything worked out
and they pen down crooked smiles
and sunshine on paper. They heal you
one hope at a time.
I write about love
because even though my heart has been broken,
it’s still beating
and I find that magical.
I find it amazing that I can live as a thousand pieces
and love new people in new ways.
I find it beautiful that a broken heart
still falls in love when it needs to.
My therapist in all his
Continue reading Fallen angels
self-love and happiness glory
asked me to tell you how much I loved you,
so this is it.
This is my confession.
You taught me poetry doesn’t have to be
Continue reading Strip-poetry.
It doesn’t have to rhyme
every single time.
All poetry needs to be is a punch
into someone’s gut
strong enough to make them gasp.
“Poetry is a seed
and you are the sunflower.”
Strip a poem word by word
down to this bare bone,
and you’ll find that poetry
is just a couple of words deep.
Poetry is about when you read it.
Poetry is about how much you need it.
I came up with the first two lines and the last two lines about two weeks ago. Then, I used them as a prompt and expanded it into a poem. The thing about prompts for poetry is, it doesn’t have to be one word. It can be an interesting conversation that you come up with or a cool concept you find on the internet. Don’t limit yourself with just a word. Be inspired by anything. I hope you like this poem! (also, I don’t want any of you to miss this in the poem so here goes: red+blue=purple)
You told him your favorite color,
Continue reading Purple
he shrugged and said “okay”.
Six shots down, you wrote I love you
on the back of his white tee
and he never wrote it again.
You were just another “he loves me not”.
Even after you sung him songs,
he slept humming the tune of Lonely – Akon.
There’s this concept of
With the sea in your eyes,
you told him you had to let go
if he didn’t say he loves you, if he didn’t promise a forever.
He shrugged and said “okay”.
It wasn’t an Augustus Waters reference.
I had this concept of story telling – palm reading mix for a long time and here it is. I hope you like it!
I met a palm reader once
Continue reading Soulmates?
who convinced me to let him tell me my story.
His readings weren’t conventional –
he came up with stories of past lives
by reading the calligraphy on our hands.
Mukkadar used to be a storyteller but the people
needed some catch to sit for a story,
so he chose this unconventional palm-reading.