i have spent the last 3 hours
crying a river of glass
ripping my soul apart
as if it was paper.
you poked each shred of
pride i had left.
you pinned them into holes
and dug deeper into my lungs.
You swallow the only love i had left
from the debris in my chest,
and listen to the thumping of my heart beat.
You broke into my patrolled doors,
you breathed your white lies into heavy smoke
underneath my cheek.
You shot bullets of words
roaming inside my stomach
and kissed the soft lines of my lips.
You touched every single part of me,
from neck to the ankles of my legs.
I loved every minute you spent
hushing your cruel scent to my sleeves
I hated the way your eyes would roll
at my poetry,
You stole every bit of the lovely roses
i had painted inside my body,
you gave them to another.
you drowned inside my eyes
now you swim along the
waves of my arms.
"thank you, thank you
for loving me.
for i have not loved you."
"Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.
In panoply of ancient kings,
in chainéd rings he armoured him;
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him;
his bow was made of dragon-horn,
his arrows shorn of ebony;
of silver was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.
Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught,
and passed, and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought.
The winds of wrath came driving him,
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless,
unheralded he homeward sped.
There flying Elwing came to him,
and flame was in the darkness lit;
more bright than light of diamond
the fire on her carcanet.
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow; and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose,
a wind of power in Tarmenel;
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and long forsaken seas distressed;
from east to west he passed away.
Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began,
until he heard on strands of pearl
where ends the world the music long,
where ever-foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan.
He saw the Mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor, and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas.
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last,
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air, where pale as glass
beneath the Hill of Ilmarin
a-glimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored on the Shadowmere.
He tarried there from errantry,
and melodies they taught to him,
and sages old him marvels told,
and harps of gold they brought to him.
They clothed him then in elven-white,
and seven lights before him sent,
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went.
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years,
and endless reigns the Elder King
in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer;
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk and Men and Elven-kin,
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein.
A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elven-glass
with shining prow; no shaven oar
nor sail she bore on silver mast:
the Silmaril as lantern light
and banner bright with living flame
to gleam thereon by Elbereth
herself was set, who thither came
and wings immortal made for him,
and laid on him undying doom,
to sail the shoreless skies and come
behind the Sun and light of Moon.
From Evereven's lofty hills
where softly silver fountains fall
his wings him bore, a wandering light,
beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.
From a World's End there he turned away,
and yearned again to find afar
his home through shadows journeying,
and burning as an island star
on high above the mists he came,
a distant flame before the Sun,
a wonder ere the waking dawn
where grey the Norland waters run.
And over Middle-earth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elven-maids
in Elder Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
till Moon should fade, an orbéd star
to pass, and tarry never more
on Hither Shores where Mortals are;
for ever still a herald on
an errand that should never rest
to bear his shining lamp afar,
the Flammifer of Westernesse."
~ The Fellowship of the Ring, Many Meetings
I miss you in your end of the couch, your side of the bed
There's just air where you used to sit,
But somehow I'm still struggling to breathe
I miss you in the drowned spider in the shower
You always took the bugs outside
Because I couldn't bear to look at them
I miss you in your old sweatshirt,
The grey crewneck that smells like you
I put it on sometimes, but I swear it's softer when you wear it and pull me into your arms
I miss you in the silence in the morning
I tried to play your old records today,
But I spent an hour looking at the box, waiting for your selection
I miss you most in the feeling you gave me
We created a world that was overflowing with happiness
And without you I'm just empty
He was walking round the party
A scowl planted on his face
He just wanted someone to hear him
But all his words fell on drunk ears
He went outside to find the smokers
Even though he quit a year ago
The girl weighing on his mind though
Pushed him back through the smoke
She was a scattered girl
A one track brain in her head
Every other guy took her for a whirl
And she didn't think to think twice
But still he thought her beautiful because she was nice
She was nice to him
And he fell for it
Deep down the rabbit hole, he fell
Asked all around for her
After all they only broke a day ago
He just wanted to talk to her
To see her face, hear her laugh
But instead his best friends shirt
Came into view as he walked up
Black makeup stained his shirt
In the shape of eyelashes
Dripping dark tears drowned in years
And years and years of connection
But now it's gone into a new section
Filed under "not enough conviction"
If what you say is true,
that your soul has died and
your heart has burst into flames,
then when I attend to your rotting being,
you wont be pushing up daisies
but rather, barbed wire and sandpaper.
Your cataclysmic life, as you refer to it,
has come to a jarring halt
like the tires that skidded but
couldn't save Janey when that
driver of drunken proportions
swerved into her path.
All of your compassions and pride have
drowned in the ocean of regret and sadness.
The same water that, on your first date,
she choked on after you made her laugh
so hard, it later spouted from her nose.
Sir, think back to who you were when she still walked this dirt.
Everything you were reflected in how she loved you.
Or, better yet, strangle yourself with the string of curses
she spat at you when she discovered your affair.
Your heir blooms in another woman's garden.
And in that garden lies a grave marker that reads: For Janey
Your thumbs could cradle away my many fears
while your eyes stole my attention far away
from the many tears
that commonly drowned them.
similar to your silver tongue
persuaded a side of me,
none had ever seen,
to fiddle and foster giggles
underneath the sheets
where I found you.
the moonlight washed over
your pale, creamy skin
and brought your blue
eyes to life, they became
a river, a stream, an ocean
full of lonely hearts
and lust, and beauty,
so much love
and an eternity of sheer wonder
the stars danced over your mind
and you crushed my hand in yours
I leapt into your bright blue eyes
and drowned myself there
my corpse, my mind, my heart
my f i n a l breath
People will read many stories about depression
With similes and metaphors and a bunch of other figurative bullshit
They'll feel a sense of comfort in the fact that they understand those
But I do not
Because words on paper can never communicate this feeling
Words cannot express the emptiness and struggle I have within myself
Day after fucking day
I am drowning in my own mind
I am gasping for air with every word write
Every word that I read
I cannot breathe
Because I am drowning in my own mind
And I've forgotten how to swim
I am no longer able to tread water
My body has given up
I've lost every ounce of strength I might have once had
And I am ready to stop gasping
I am ready to let go
My mind won't surrender
My body is giving up but my mind won't let go
I can no longer tread this water, but my mind refuses to sink
I cry and I cut and I pray to whatever god there may be
That my mind
My head is still above the waves
But my body
At the end of the day
To be told that it'll be okay
To feel that warm bodies grasp
To listen to the heartbeat and gentle rasp
When my tears have me drowned
I want to just look around
And hear the most beautiful sound
That means that it's you I've found
To have you, all of you, all to myself
To not have to share you even in full health
To hold you tightly, for you to hold me
For your beautiful face to be the last thing I see
With every inch of my being
Every part of my soul
For you to be seeing
How you make me whole
The Dates Garden
Softly, gently, I sipped
your red cherry-lip petals
patiently, silently, I grabbed
your brown nip-let buds
deeply, knowingly, I drowned
into your blue eye-oceans
The feminine body turns
to be a dates garden
amidst my own
barren desert !
KGA (UAE Chapter)
Literary award for Poetry declared for
Williamsji Maveli’s “Arramviralthumbath…”
The Kallettumakara Gblobal Association (KGA), UAE Chapter has announced their first poetry award for excellence to Williamsji Maveli's third poetry collection titled as “Arramviralthumbath …” (On the tip of the 6th finger, published by H & C Books, Trichur) .The award has been declared by Mathew David, Chairman of KGA at their Executive Committee meeting held recently in Sharjah Emirate of United Arab Emirates. The award has also been considered for his poetic works scattered in his recently published book named as “Maa Salama." ( means "With peace" in Arabic). The poems have been gathered from different desert sketches, focusing on his real-time life experiences ,while he was working in UAE for more than 30 years. Williamsji, (Williams George), former Ras Al Khaimah based Journalist and lyricist of tester-years has been nominated for a literary award for the first time for literature. The Award is being formulated by KGA (Kallettumkara Global Association, UAE Chapter) for outstanding contributions to literature from the native writers of Kallettumkara, a village town in Trichur, Kerala in India. The award will be presented by the KGA’s UAE Chapter on the grand occasion of their 10th anniversary, which is being scheduled to be held during September, this year,
according to Mathew David, Chairman of Kallettumkara Global Association.