Posts

Neptune

these surfaces had no empathy for cocoons, winds will erode   core-stones too soon, thank god, i was building a  home on Neptune. patience can never stay porous for long, the lady who checks the sundial turned to brune,  thank god, i was building a  home on Neptune. rivulets rugged their feet , jumped into holes, salts of the oceans were fed with the spoon, thank god, i was building a  home on Neptune. cursed were the carnal desires for truth, cursed was the  celibacy of the moon, thank god, i was building a  home on Neptune. - chetna 🌻 

Fourth March

not every spring can  save you from sadness, not every March can  adore you an escape to his arms, "clear the history  of the hourglass i spent  counting quartz sand  granules in the hope  to shift the dynamics of  our suns and earths, clear if you can , i can not ! " "you believed me  every time when  i barked up the wrong tree, but you could not  believe my tiniest cell when i was burning in steams , what a mystery, babes! " "my love looks like an  undervalued currency, drowning in the debt of  promises spilled from  your mouth to bend for my innocence even  more than my face!"  not every spring can  shatter your source of sickness,  not every March can  turn you to his favourite child . - chetna 🌻 

cupid or casket

treason after teaching  tallys of freedoms, i have held tight now handcuffs on my husband, trust one - his credence  or my crimson red lips, prude girl, ruined morals, rude girl, rumoured romance,   i have humbled my  poems to hoax my husband,  trust one - his cupid  or my cruel crosswinds, ground floor, dirty kitchen, a sad picture in the hall, i have hoarded such honour for my husband, trust one - his customs or my cynical criticism,  infidelity seems better  than the union in the bed, i have halved this hunger for my husband, trust one - his complaint  or my curses in churchrooms , this karst love knuckled  the fever of the blood, i have poisoned my  hormones and husband, trust one - his casket  or my cascading crystals, just trust one . - chetna 🌻 

anyway?

standardized are the heartbreaks , systemic  is this filthy roleplay, my deep-seated love is  in traffic and thunder, trembling to fetch the  last drops of intellect , but  my lungs jammed in disarray  who would marry me anyway? i find people of my town glaring at my torn gown, those raconteurs survived  to cut out love from my life, maybe, destined for a reason, i must shiver for more seasons, my teenage's genial now drifted dead in doomsday  who will marry me anyway? i am an architect of  ghosts , they were once indolent in peeling them off, they switched their characters  turning to desolate deafs, as i keep reveling in sending  my lovers in the fall away who may marry me anyway? strike the needles in my almond-shaped eyes, judge the colour of blood  they shed when i turn blind, please put my name in  the kiln like the way  i tested his truth as if it's meant to be the fire clay  who might marry me anyway? the blue...

entropy

all the fucking  particles roaming in the outer air assume there's  distilled warmth  barring internal  entropy of the jar,  the atoms residing  in disorder of life will never try to  come outside, the world is worse than the menace  even to survive,  fuck her soul who's  standing on a line, fuck this gentle advice  belittling her love life, fuck her mean mind always turning his air thin, fuck her nostrils ready  to break waves of breaths, love has an age, love has a time, love is insult, love is dignity? love is a threshold, love is a lie ever told, there was no good-bye hence it's just a BYE. - chetna 🌻

the pain ?

"do you have any  license to feel  your credited pain ? is it necessary to derogate your  neighbour's pain ?  why do syringes  inject chemicalized  pain in my veins ? why do people fuck  my courage saying  i'm easier than the pain ? should we penalize  mortal humans who lift  their lives above the pain? do we always need to  exemplify swollen eyes to justify the pain ? how come these  powerful 'men' don't  read elegies with pain ? do they still assume  i cut my throat, spilled  the blood without pain ? does my favourite artist  design the art while relating with my pain ? when did these papers  earn strength to carry weight, strain and pain ? can people leave us before we learn how  they never reach us in pain ? does the setting sun still remember my static eyes  carrying immeasurable pain ? am i allowed to question  everything which has ever  tamed me and my pain ?" once someone whi...

forgive me

forgive me dear, dutifullness is the  frontline where i  fell from the grace, failed to recall  how my fingertips  should have sat down when we tried to fight, forgive me leader, distress is the long affair i've ever had with my heart, and i adored it to you, freedom has its cost, so i made these  fences my life, forgive me reader, non-descript is  the atmosphere of the skies under which i laid jute mattress, to rest , hold your hand, in the hope to conciled  but ended up singing you  the depressed dirges, forgive this pleader, she thought she had  a reason to reject to re-kindle and unlock her, but waxed her hesitancy  into vulnerability of 'someday'  and grew her self-distrust into our sleepcasts of nights, forgive her dreamer, do not misread her, forgive her believer. - chetna 🌻 

furniture

there's no meaning  in holding power , when your words  can not afford it, staying up late till  you reach home , you curse me to  ruin your fancy life, trust me, i had served  you the favourite wine but you dodged me . even neighbours have stopped knocking at  our doors in the evening, even cradles in our  backyard stopped dreaming  to play with a toddler soon, even clergy of this town stopped blessing you to save purity of my prayers. look at my state now, i've fossilized myself  into a kind of decaying  furniture of our home, over which you place  your torn clothes, your unread books, your black tea cups , your old, used posts, and everything i gave  while serving you  but you proclaimed, "stop being mean now!" i smell you in the dust and smoke, whirling in the room ,  you hear me in the cries and echoes reverberating around, we still sit across  six feet apart to dine in the greige coloured hall, so, decayed ...

dear kid !

all i knew i'm scared  just to step in waters, these memories dragged me to immerse in bathtub, all i knew i'm scared  just to shred slits of salt, this courage coerced  me to fill the bathtub, because i remember, "did they call me in need ?  did they fuck me with weed? did they mouth to murder me? did they pray to hinder me ?" now i feel it right, a glimpse of one day ,  lives of three autumns , pores of my skins could  never absorb trazodones, clocks on walls decelerated nasty needles were relegated, chances of my novel breaths  sat deep down in the dumps, my free spirits made for clouds accustomed to inhabit in slums, but now i've forgot all seasons pay the price for what you did, you tried to hunt for lioness put on your big-boy pants, dear kid !  who knew what's coming around, what is summit , what is ground? - chetna 🌻 

holy shit !

holy shit,  i bit the dust, good grief, i crashed and burned, almighty please, i nurtured a rare disease, i blew the candle no 'twenty'  i wonder why they clapped while their faces looked sad and dirty, sooner or later, did i trun to their joy-eater ?  my gracious hands touched their skins in hope of answer, every single touch absorbed  guilt, misery and discontent, this world doesn't recognise, "swelling is the sequel when heart is clutched pretty hard," i didn't realize when i began  to latibulate distress , found  my heart throbbing too loud, terrors forced me to shout to faces of walls if i was allowed, i loved to water unhealed wound, latching the door to avoid crowd, i spit on floor moving all around, dirts flushing of mouth made mound, fuck the silence, i screeched astound,  morrowlight of my day had drowned, every human sings allegories aloud, they ask why you now look unsound, i answer "bury me, i belong to ground!" if you cry on one's d...

noblewomen

princesses raised in  palaces of dreams don't  sleep on bed of thorns , princesses fostered by strong men don't dwell  in the absence of valour, princesses backed for  their potential and gestures  don't falsely weep for fun, princesses who once learn to flap their wings aren't kept  as skeletons in the cupboard, princesses who use their  nails as hammers don't  turn confidential in revenge, princesses who know the  taste of a MAN don't open  mouths for any other flavour, princesses who put all cards  on the table well don't nest  honeycombs on their tongues, princesses who sweep every  shit out of way don't fuck bad faces of so called he-men, princesses who plan to set the crown don't sit on heap of loss and intolerance, princesses who are benevolent  enough to sinners are the  noblewomen of the free kingdom. - chetna 🌻