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sashwathi-sriganesh
sashwathi-sriganesh
Like a sliver of the moon in my palm on the darkest night of the year, guiding me all the way back home. / -Sash
What If... Small rickety boat, buoyant along the clean blue Waters, past the glinting light, bouncing, rippling Falling deep deep deep. Down. An abyss in a chasm in an uncertain universe You ask me “what if?” You ask me once, twice, a thousand times. Haunt me, take my food, my breath, my will Till I am nothing but the echoing question I consume elixirs of hope, peace, Calm Magnesium, no Ashwagandha, no. Greyscale silhouettes pass through me Sharks carrying neon billboards in a sea of dark Unfathomable, a complex complex You ask me “what if?” In the bouts of this limerence I know, Not what you will ever feel towards me But that you will force my head underwater With every gasping breath I am forever lost. What if... What if... What if...
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Feb 22, 2023
Feb 22, 2023 at 11:33 AM UTC
What If...
point. triangle. center, of the universe. spellbound syllables reverberations from the base of the spine three snakes kundalini shakti transcending past the granthis electric current At the top of my head losing control eyes closing into the bliss of nothingness
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 1:03 AM UTC
Sahasrara
A strange satisfaction Almost obsessive-compulsive Ordering them, left to right On a perfect color scale. I remember the day they came in the mail And the day(s) they fell apart Lost in the bottom of my backpack My hands full. Unable to move Hoping nothing would crush them. And that day in sociology When one tiny white cap Rolled away Leaving me to spend my day Searching under a sea of legs Just so I would have precious purple To blend with my blues and pinks. Don’t **** the messenger That is what people say, And this is for them, My messengers The path from my thoughts to the world They contain the color that encompasses my soul My talent, my skin, my bones My daily companion My therapist My smarts, my dreams Sixteen tubes, The pressure is on. A little boy sailing boats Glowing lanterns in starless skies A thousand balloons Pulling the long lost Titanic From underwater. I dream to inspire hope In those who seem to have lost sight. Leave a powerful image in the mind Change a bad day into a good one Sixteen tubes, 2 inches tall Sixteen tubes, Life without them Would be awfully dull
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 12:43 AM UTC
Sixteen Tubes of Watercolor Paint
It was Donna Darling’s annual dinner party A Cotillion approved eatery Six spoons and six forks The wrong one, and all the glares one bore And then waddled in Miss Pillsbury Her stumpy feet too short to Do anything but waddle Uninvited she was As she always was Squelching her way through the narrow doorway. As fourteen perfectly styled heads Shuffled their feet under the table. Boom! Clash! Six spoons crashing Six forks attacking Poor old lady Judith’s knee As she groaned in pain. Donna scratching her head Eyes darting through her invite list Top-to-bottom, Top-to-bottom Screech! Went the chair, Scratching Donnas hand polished marble floors Like nails on a chalkboard. Oh, and what she did next, Almost sent Donna to her upstairs bedroom To pop some unprescribed ****** As the stout woman grabbed soup with her chubby hands And started gulping it down Before it ran through her fingers. Frazzled Donna tried, oh she tried To salvage the integrity Of her fancy dinner party Unfortunately, at the moment it was running down the table From Miss Pillsbury’s double chin. Swooosh! Went old lady Judith As she skated across the marble Like an Olympic figure skater Only to crash into Donna’s perfectly organized stainless steel kitchenware. Donna ran out screaming and crying Nobody’s seen her since. And as for Miss Pillsbury, I’d be surprised if she noticed any of it
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dinner Dramatics
Fireflies Over Somerset Hill An hour past the new day My father took my hand “Don't you tell your mother about this” He whispered Beaming smile in dark night The old wooden canoe Transported us across The rippling waters reflecting The starlit sky Little footsteps followed the large footsteps Tall, strong, in front of me Blanketed by the comfort of his shadow, Cast in the presence of gracious moonlight In the depths of the foliage Father sat me down next to him “Be silent”, “Wait for them” As the breeze picked up the withered leaves On their journey through the night I had reached the end of mine. For there were millions Millions of blessed souls Glowing like jeweled specks of light Encircling my father and I Outlining every leaf and flower In what appeared to be pure gold. It was a moment of clarity. Eyes open to the ideals of virtue And the invaluable life in every single one Of the brilliant creatures that surrounded me. I found myself staring at the man beside me In complete awe Filled with the utmost gratitude to be witnessing what I was I watched father walk away Far into the distant night Never turning back Until it was just me, and the fireflies.
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 12:39 AM UTC
Fireflies
Mother once said to use Sage To dissipate every deformed stranger To an incredible ounce of nothingness I needed it now. For the silent intruder created unseen footprints In the aged, varnish-stained floors He was pale and cloaked A frequent intruder trampling my mind. With no restraint, destruction. I stole father’s lighter Without his permission, ignoring the consequences The red-orange embers engulfed the slender herb Exhaling smoke that encompassed Every inch of the old room Tapestry on the walls Ancient calligraphy pained, stained As his face appeared to me…(startled) Fingers weakened, letting go Letting the sage spread its embers aglow The tapestry ribbed, shredded, Beauty destroyed by the good flame. Doors locked and windows unopened Just me, in the old room Two beings died that night.
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Spirits
High on the tree branch At midnight In the eerie silence She starts singing Like never heard before.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
The Nightingale
Unknown, Unseen A hooded giant. With silent feet. The Dragon Slayer, He is called. Although, If you look into the sky, You will see him Flying high On the back Of a magnificent dragon. Stroking its back. His eyes, filled with compassion
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
The dragon slayer
Crunch. I saw the old woman standing there. Her form changing. As I fell to the floor, And my eyes shut, I saw the queen laughing at me.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
The Poisoned Apple
Thudding footsteps consecutive gunshots Screams of agony Brushing off the dust, I looked up to see, the colorless sky much like a soul being ****** out of a man. It was finally here. The apocalypse, had embarked upon us and it was because of me.
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
The end