The day came when she discovered sex, sensuality, and literature; she said, 'I submit! Let my life be henceforth ruled by poetry. Let me reign as the queen of my dreams until I become nothing less than the heroine of God.
Chimerical words, the words were written,Some are wasted; some are still on the page,Tattered words, the words were written,Some are young, some are aged,Gloomy words, the words were written,Some are unspoken, some are told,Words were hurt, though they can heal,Words are breathless, though can feel,Words won hearts, words shattered hearts,Words lost battles, words won wars,Wars within, words had scars.
His pen spoke more to her than he ever did”.In the war of words, some are unwritten and some are unspoken.
How might I get over this? How would I be able to overlook the way he used to be with me? How could I overlook that his fingers touched my indiscernible soul before it twisted my nipples? How might I overlook his essence that still is in my garments? Despite everything, I still hear you saying that you love me. Though I know you don't.
All she captures is a moment and what she calls it is a memory,Sometimes, it is assumptions that we use; all we need is a theory,Because you don’t know what is there in the future,And all you need is a vision to make a perfect picture.I feel that I have known you for a century,And whatever she calls is a memory.
After all these years, all I know is, I need not to do anything as a part of remorse.All I need is to write.Because,'Poetry forgives.
Everything is all right,When you’re here,When you’re right next to me,When my hand is in yours,Don’t leave me,Don’t leave me empty handed.
we met one strange summerin a regular tangle of sticky websyou had the air of angels sweet but I--drowned with the damned spiritsin lava oceans fearing your--foreign static frequency and grey-green eyes(I swear they are even if you--think otherwise): stormscalm ones, calmer than my--raging coals, empty and deadyou speak of souls like you believealways an optimist in pessimisticskin of ivory and titanium mesh...
I asked of the limitless sunshineHow to shine with the dawn's glowing light;No answer came back from the sunshine, But my soul heard a whisper, Burn bright!
You can run from the truth. You can run and hide from the truth.You can deny and avoid the truth. But you cannot destroy the truth. Nor can you make the lie true. You must know that love will always uncover the truth.
We have conversations most nights, Sylvia Plath and me. On these cold wintry nights with our coffee mugs in hand, we talk for hours and hours, Sylvia Plath and me!
Do you love me enough that I am allowedto be damaged? Do you love me enough that I am allowed to be weak in some places?
I painted for the eyes, and wrote prose for the ears… Between those senses lay the mind and soul… I enjoyed connecting with people’s deepest thoughts, their hopes and dreams… My pen and brush were tools to achieve my artistic desired effects.
Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.
KUNDALINI DANCEDark and cold and wet were Her handsI felt Her chilly breath inside my throatHer claws deep inside trying to find traces ofFear within meI stayed still Accepting Opening ReceivingWithin a moment She was insideTwo fingers below My belly buttonIn there She found no traces of shiversno traces of resistance, no traces of weaknessjust clear pure Passage-WayThen She grew into Her most powerful SelfShe stood undisturbed, unmoved, unchangedTotally free and She screamedAAAAAUUUUUUMMMFrom the centre of the earth, Through the tunnels of the caves, To the surface of the volcanoesAAAAUUUUUUMMMMTo open: Mountain tops untouched by clouds and rainCherry fields in their full blossomA dog running after a train filled with the excitementA witch laughing at passers-by mirroring their paranoiaDeath looking us in the eyes searching for the chosen Few Capable to see the Key behind Her magic veil
There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your Soul You will see Magic over hereDid I just now hear a beautiful symphony over here ?Or is it just your soothing words murmuring in my ear?Is it the cute mynah bird on my shoulder?Or is it your soft head nestling that I feel so tender? There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your SoulYou will see Magic over here...Did I just now hear the nightingale sing around here?Or is it the breeze whispering softly to the trees near?Is that you giggling away to glory? Or is that just the flowers mingling with the bees and telling their story?There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your SoulYou will see Magic over here..
I do not just want you at your best.I almost do not carewhere your Happiness lives,but please,let me visit your pain?Take me to the placewhere your sadness goes,and show me the tragedythat no one knows.
And while she was fire,So fierce and so wild,I could only hope to be for her;The forests and the winds to carry her flame.
You are the mark on my liquid heartwhere love begins with the beginning’s startYou are the desire of the ablaze fires the only truth from ten-thousand-liarsFrom the poem- A Letter to My Love
I looked at an angel today, but the angel could not see me. The angel was more amazing than beautiful, like the best forgotten dream.
I promised her that I would never kiss and tell, but I have to tell someone about my dreams and fairytales. So I’m telling you that I kissed her.
You are my reality, fantasy, daydream, fairytale, music, more than the princess in Cinderella; you are much more than a traditional myth.
I must find you. So I travel to the depths of hell and conquer perverse monsters and repulsive demons and the deceitful vicious devil himself to find the truth.