Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021 · 963
Heart and Demon Wings!
His lips are not of sinners
yet the taste is slowly turning bitter.
Hell is here and I fear my love for him.
Kisses are getting *****;
with a tint of innocence, however quirky.
But he has a pure soul and a fine mind.
There’s fire all over in this,
and he’s seeking peace.
I want to calm him with the blood running in my veins;
vigilant enough to burn him with my flames.
He likes speaking in between breaths.
I like making him shut in breaks.
My words are less to describe his eyes,
delightful and dangerous at the same time.
He is aware of the strength in my arms,
I’m sure of making him melt in them.
Magic in wild and colors in life,
makes him want the dark more.
He has a heart of a King,
still demands demon wings!
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Apr 2021 · 514
A Kind Soul
Clumsy knees,
Wrinkled eyes
& rough palms.
Beauty is everywhere,
See what is behind the dark
& for this you need to look from within.
Make your heart fair,
Also, your thoughts clear
& this would be a clean place.
Winsome mind,
Complimentary lips
& a kind soul.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Every time you read a poem,
it would be different than previous.
Poets shape verses accordingly,
and add warmth into raw words of obvious.
A poem is a mystery to everyone,
filled with pain and desires.
Poets shape verses accordingly,
and arrange the words before they expire.
A poem can make lifeless person feel alive,
but make the mind a horrific place.
Poets shape verses accordingly,
and let words flow in their own space.
A poem could be difficult to understand,
because it possesses calm and clash.
Poets shape verses accordingly,
and avoid words to turn into ash.
If poems would be written on the skin,
everything would bleed and shed.
Poets shape verses accordingly,
and instead of vintage words turn red.
-Aishwarya Kulkarni
Mar 2021 · 316
Nude Poetry
Slow kisses and fast heartbeats,
Soft fingers and crushed sheets.
No inch untouched with your violet lips all around,
Cover me with your skin because I desire to be brown.
Gasp close to my ear and make me moan,
Let the fire flow from flesh to bone.
Run your palms through my hair,
Look me in the eye and make it worth a stare.
Drench me with the wine so white,
Decorate me at the sinful night.
Allow my neck to feel your tongue gliding,
Tolerate your back to undergo tracing.
Mind full of power; but body being hungry!
A forbidden soul; taste of **** poetry.
-Aishwarya Kulkarni
Mar 2021 · 1.4k
the and all the
the white moon and all the bright stars,
the bitter espresso and all the cold nights,
the unclear intimacy and all the prolonged talks,
the cozy sheet and all the free glimpses,
the hardest fall and all the vague hugs,
the heartfelt love and all the bad kisses,
the wild heart and all the improbable dreams,
the sacred trust and all the naked thoughts,
the correct intuition and all the wrong decisions,
the lost soul and all the hidden scars,
the slow poison and all the forgotten memories.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
How’s this happening of me holding a pen again?
Trapped in the wit and bound by each vein.
My vision is blurred but my mind is clear;
I’ll take a paper but there’s something I fear.
Combination of thoughts made up inside my head;
The part of life simultaneously alive and dead.
The stars and the moon just one glance away;
Nobody knows how much these eyes weigh!
The eyelids are lift up to feel alive;
Emotions hit and put out the main five.
The dark isn’t enough to devastate;
Oh it's already midnight and the following date!
I can hear my name called out by the adjacent river;
Winds and waves leaving me to shiver.
This world is numb and cold;
My soul is drifting apart and it needs to be hold.
Look I am still breathing;
But my hands are freezing.
Yet I complete the poem and put a full stop of done;
Miracles do happen, I’ve recently experienced one.
Now I keep my pen & paper aside;
This happens all the time and I’m always abide.
Twenty-four hours of exertion and sound;
It requires some peace to be found.
This is an unending chain;
How’s this happening of me holding a pen again?
-Aishwarya Kulkarni
Everyone over thinks,
but no one is ready to accept;
each mind moves a thousand miles every day.
Everyone is unhappy,
but no one believes to be;
we are fooled by ourselves and the world as well.
Everyone is judgemental,
but no one wants to be a prey for one;
the only attitude we all possess is being casual.
Ego is put at priority
and
Comparison is considered fine.
Defeats aren't always welcomed
and
Victories need to be refused at times.
The problem is :
we think we all are smart,
we think we all are grown ups,
we think we can never be incorrect.
But the problem is :
we all are living in an illusion of acting smart;
the lives portrayed aren't the lives lived.
We belong to the generation which is gormless.
The generation which is accepting more epitaphs than odes.
The only generation which simultaneously relates to :
poems and proses,
highs and lows,
puns and quotes,
tricks and tragedies.
We're all adamant kids,
falling out of change.
We're all dead fishes,
conforming water.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Dec 2020 · 204
You are the fire
I am longing for your touch
and intrepid to be burnt.
I am longing for your warmth
in the freezing climate.
I am longing for your spark
and look into your eyes.
I am longing for your brightness
in the pitch dark existence.
I am longing for your passion
to get merged with your flames.
You are the fire,
I’ve been longing to perceive.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Dec 2020 · 268
Looking Up In The Sky
Looking up in the sky;
counting the stars with you.
Flying with the wings so high;
seeing the sun shine besides.
Collecting all the reasons;
knowing about none.
Comforting all the seasons;
whispering to the wind.
Connecting the glittery dots;
glowing in your eyes.
Tying up all the knots;
following the destined paths.
Dressing up with all the grace;
crushing the flowers with smell.
Holding onto each place;
remembering about every bloomy spring.
Wanting of warm magic;
wrapping under creased sheets.
Welcoming the day with beans being classic;
wondering about the spice of love.
Falling on the ground;
dancing like brown leaves.
Rising up with your sound;
listening to the delicate birds.
Looking up in the sky;
counting the stars with you.
Flying with the wings so high;
seeing the sun shine besides.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
She is fond of sunsets,
yet prefers sunrise.
She cares about the weak heart,
yet is uncaring about her own.
She is surrounded by devils,
yet manages to find angels.
She is kind all the while,
yet mean at times.
She is faithful to the windy winter,
yet admires the soft summer.
She is passionate about her love,
yet apathetic in an irregular manner.
She is roughly foreseeable,
yet effortlessly unpredictable.
She is able to be whole,
yet unable to have a piece.
She is easily melted by the fire,
yet controls the tough cold core.
She lives in her own fantasies,
yet awaits an unpoetic reality.
She is a prepossessing paradox.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Nov 2020 · 242
I'm not going to cry
Can you hold my scars once more;
and be completely mine from day to night?
Can you strip your thoughts once more;
and heal my heart with a not so sinful bite?
I want to yell to feel better;
and express every letter.
Crying will gradually make me think a little less.
However my soul is relishing this mess.
But I am not going to cry ever;
as you will be safe inside me forever.
-Aishwarya
Nov 2020 · 1.1k
The Comfortable Chaos
The chaotic street;
And rushing crowd,
Processing in the midst of the chaos.
The chaotic mind;
And thundering veins,
Artistry in the midst of the chaos.
The chaotic skin;
And gleaming bones,
The stupor in the midst of the chaos.
The chaotic tongue;
And communicating fingers,
The fire in the midst of the chaos.
The chaotic heart;
And vibrating lips,
Pervading in the midst of the chaos.
The chaotic soul;
And sparkling eyes,
Authenticity in the midst of the chaos.
shifting or steady,
seasonal or structured,
The chaos has to be intriguing.
How beautiful the chaos is!
How peaceful the chaos feels!
Verses hold relevance like a broken crayon,
The magic in the poetry; the comfort in the chaos.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Oct 2020 · 284
Imperfectly Perfect
Perfect, Is It?

Why are we even bothered by 'perfect' in everything?

What is perfect? -
A cherry on the cake?
A first kiss?
A candle light dinner date?
A latest phone in hand?
A big mug of coffee?
A wallet full of notes?
A Jacuzzi?

Nothing has to be perfect -

Ever tried that fluffy and not so fancy vanilla home-made cake?
Ever tried to mess a kiss out of laughter and remembering it later?
Ever experienced a power outage and eating dal chawal on the dining table with candles?
Ever recalled those times when you met your relatives and friends only to talk and not for clicking pictures?
Ever tried a cup of tapri chai giggling with loved ones?
Ever thought of spending time with yourself and not those hard earned bucks?
Ever enjoyed dancing under a rainfall?
The little things around us make us happy. Why are we focusing on materialistic things?
Materialistic things play a negative role in our lives and it looks good only on social media.
Let nothing out of what people show off on social media affect you.
The inner happiness is prime and for that you need no word such as "perfect".

- Aishwarya
Oct 2020 · 359
Confined Explosion
beautiful thoughts shouldn't be confined:
silence is experienced deep in the water;
soft yet strong, denying to alter...

spirits and fleshes are reluctant to combine:
now the time is slipping;
slowly the lights are also dimming...

unconscious about the belief:
dark, jovial and fragile feelings;
exploding inside and bleeding...

some like talking, some prefer to be quiet:
some show, some hide;
should confined explosions be dried?
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Oct 2020 · 121
Slow process of learning
Even if you react,
it won't change anything,
it won't make people suddenly respect you,
people won’t trust your words soon,
it won't make people care for you,
it won't magically change their minds for you.
Sometimes it is better to let things be the way they are.
Let people go if they don't want to stay.
You cannot expect people to understand you every time.
People always don't get to know where you're coming from.
Chasing for answers and asking for clarifications will mentally suffice you,
But what about emotional stability?
You must not stick yourself onto what is happening around you.
This process of not letting things affect you, is a very slow process.
There is no need to rush yourself in this learning because it will make you
not bother with things for time being.
If you want to be happy, let this be a slow process of learning.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
Oct 2020 · 221
Poisonous Bliss
out of the blue snuggles
conversations at an unusual hour
hard liquor combined with tepid water
warmth in the shelter
unlocked empathy
relevance between butterflies and glimpses
partiality for the odds
coffee and tea differences
self-assured soul
chilly winter, moist monsoon, hot summer
grip in sharing
meaningful tuning
vital veins whispering the tag
pecks while being asleep
devotion and passion
troth of a forever presence

A Poisonous Bliss!
As one villanelle can make us awake;
Where thoughts may not at all be planted,
Because dreams are never opaque.

Life saves us with sudden break;
Having the gut to take new chance,
As one villanelle can make us awake

Not every core needs to break;
And we fight with our own realities,
Because dreams are never opaque.

Midnights tempt you to create mistake;
But some live daytime like lifetime,
As one villanelle can make us awake.

Each day passed has no retake;
Facile is to fantasize while sleeping,
Because dreams are never opaque.

For once let us all not fake;
Agonizing is what we must accept.
As one villanelle can make us awake,
Because dreams are never opaque.
Because, neither interval nor death can hamper anything.
The poem which will make you think in abundance.
Oct 2020 · 230
In the name of Mizpah
We are getting lost slowly,
As we embrace the sheets all over.
But I can still feel you,
As veil is the only cover.
The fragrance is however same,
And dreams are turning into tales.
No cessation can minimize the desire,
Why are we blaming this to be a barrier?
The await is existent,
Upon the effort of weaving.
Coming around and staying for a while,
Is what we are craving.
Putting back together isn’t an option,
For it needs to be shattered initially.
Surviving shouldn’t be a choice,
When you can live aesthetically.
Undergoing again and again through the skin,
Caring less for piling up the sins.
No we are not distracted from each other,
Because the bond is true to itself.
Although the paths are disconnected,
Who cares if we are detached by interval or death?
The soul will keep us ******* endlessly,
Sticking on the edge until the last breath.
We are blessed by Him,
Though we are not so near.
In the name of mizpah,
I’ll keep you always in my prayers.

— The End —