rm - Hello Poetry

rm Jul 2020

you are.

hardly embraced
by the
darkest memories
he can never
rid himself with.

softly clamoured
by the
endless disgrace
and disdain
she left
his arms.

bewildered
and mesmerized
by the simple
things
he made,
it was ephemeral.

lustered
with bits
of sparkle
left in his eyes
through the glares
of "she" which sullied the
plain, beautiful sky
and cries.

rm Jul 2020

the sealed green envelope.

the day came
when she stopped
asking,
begging,
for something,
friday's love
used to have,
and
can never give.

the night came
when she
never asked
for something,
someone,
a helpless distraction,
a lovely contrast.

then midnight came
rushing like the blood
circulating within her self,
he came knocking,
like a real stranger,
mingling with
another,
and opened the
sealed green envelope.

rm Jul 2020

when things

when things were
too cloudy,
too unclear,
she thought
she was hopeless,
that she was
embraced by such
langour,
hate and
anger.

she once
possessed such a
plethora of sorrow,
it caused her
more than tears,
no lesser than
blood.

and blood
became tears
and the sobs
became laughs,
she was now inured.

maybe because,
he came?
who then?
the next mr. Black?
the next apeiroginic love?
how about who?

maybe because,
when things were
at peace,
she heard such
melliflouos melody
coming from the
bluest sky
she always eyed.

maybe because,
when things were
lovely and quite
dainty,
he came,
ringing her bells,
strumming the
sincerest G string.

hi there!

rm Jun 2020

their own

clasping his hands
were nothing but pain.

embracing his goodbyes
and listening to his
wrath,
were more than hell,
and lesser than any
mundane pleasures.

but letting go
of those torns
which she once loved,
held, and touched,
gave her peace,
joy, opportunities,
and open heart.

she loved him indeed,
he loved her too,
but,
they were just
a chapter in each other's diaries
and their wisdoms and
memories
both shall live
and fuel
their pens
to write their
own stories.

rm Jun 2020

the newest remarks of tomorrow.

i thought "none"
that this day
would actually
come.

she stood by,
so quietly sealed,
so desperately happy.

she stood by,
waiting for
another kiss
from someone
so distant,
too far flung,
too fictious,
less ambigous,
definitely gorgeous,
and ambitious.

she stood by,
and wondered,
"will i ever make
it back?
will time begin to
tick-tock?
and will life
begin to
knock-knock?"

she stood by,
waited and cried.

she thought
she was hopeless,
but,
maybe not.

the Heavens
paved way
for the newest
remarks
of tomorrow.

rm Apr 2020

the next mr. Black

there's not a
a girl
in this world
who never
had a
mr. Black.

mr. Black
is everything,
is cute,
is gorgeus,
is lovable.

mr. Black's
cover doesn't
really matter
and
others would utter,
"why?"

mr. Black
is mystique,
unique,
different.

he accepts,
he declines,
he's rough,
he's smooth,
mostly,
he's dubious,
he's idyllic,
he's an unvivid
character
in the blank
pages of some
chapters
of her diary.

he can make
her feel
such halcyon moments
that no one can
ever do,
he can make
her indulge
such gentle
nuzzles,
tight hugs,
and forehead kisses.

after friday's love
comes nth-day's love,
she then awaits
the next
mr. Black.

rm Apr 2020

my next apeirogonic love

she had always
felt
those romantic,
amorous,
passionate,
and intimate
kinds of emotions
since forever began,
too old
to remember.

metaphorical expressions
like mathematical equations
aren't quite enough,
ample to be exact?

she had her first
touch of love,
the first scent,
first soound,
first dance,
and the
first petrichor of love,
friday's love.

but such assymptotic
love ended in a
form of chemistry,
too much of everything
is just too toxic.

but love is composite,
love forswears,
love is uncertain
yet love is
boundless,
and love can aquiese.

when something
ends, something
begins.

now she learned,
now she grew,
and will continue
to walk her way
towards
her next
apeirogonic love.