I’m here to taste your essence
let’s exchange souls for a while
it’s a fair trade
I can give you all or anything you need
I’m for sale, you get a discount
and if you aren’t satisfied
return me to my vessel within 30 days
because any longer will tether me to your tendons
and I don't want to feel your grins or your hurt
unless you intend to keep me,
broken pieces and all.

All along my unconscious
has been consumed by your
beauty which is below
the threshold of my wakefulness

Yet I crave it

You're not of classical beauty
but such a timeless white Lily
whose pureness grasps the mind
And radiates Its light to the orbits

For its adoration, essence is not
in form but in the method
Your quirkiness captures
my infinite imagination

You keenly read the mapping
of my unrestrained tears
Your pureness lies in innocence
Mine in experience

A kind of beauty

Before the dawn greets
gentle steps walk closer
down the glistening snow
but there is nobody near
the soft wind blows away
my essence and exictance
maybe it was only me
strolling along the snow
in my other world of beauty
which nobody sees nor hears
but all the mystery and art
comes to live in the heart.

Close your eyes
Take your hands and mentally draft this mythical surprise
Passion larks veiled in its disguise
Sketch me on canvas with unseen sight
Allow your mind to roam as your guiding light
A work of art in progress
Inhale and exhale
Fill me in with ever so gently details

Use the vision streaming through your mind
My contours, my soften angular lines
My silhouette as you boldly fill
Images dancing as your pencil strokes instill
A face of grace coming into view of its own free will

Eyes, nose, lips
Artist’s mind on cloud nine, therefore, don’t slip
Should I stand as you sketch the rest
To hone your craft as you do best
Positioned here so peaceful, yet, fully undressed

Slopes of the anatomy, femininity showcased as time will tell
Weakening work of art to be under one’s spell
Pencil trade of a deep earthly color
A wondrous sketch soon to discover
Finished as it is, Goddess from head to toe
Portrait of love only a Greek *** would come to know
Magnificent and grand as it humanly stands
Appealing to the eyes of every mortal man

Hang me in the museum of your mind
Look upon your work of art as you mentally wine and dine
Your perfected sketch, as a remembrance in time
Faded away as winds have blown
Soaring now where rainbows dance unbeknown
A rare gift of art in the eyes giving unto one’s own

My vision was to create a new language for literature-
But now not only is every solution nonsense & every poem agonising,
I am a child reading too many of today’s poems realising I’ll also be writing long sentences with the purpose of deconstruction & decoration.

I rest in between my own letters of ‘a’ & ‘n’, where I can sit I peace.
Because when I’m doing that, even the spaces will become part of the essence of the work. Say, (if you calculate the movement of this earth on its axis you’ll see its beauty equates to something like the beauty in poems) It is in the essence, we have beauty in the first place.

You see: seeing patterns is the only way around this world. This idea is as flaky to me as a chocolate bar. I’m gonna write and drop my laptop two times before I get it right. I will fail but they take me as naive anyway so I'll laugh at myself because I want to be polite.

Take love, it takes many forms, but the essence remains the same.
Take books, it has variety of plots, but some meanings stay the same.
Take poetry, we can destroy form, rhyme, meter, but in its essence, the feeling remains the same.

We should write to construct a new language of unity, with a clearness to our imagination, and rely on the essence of the work to make its way to the heart.

The ordinates concealed in your infinitesimal rationale
Insufficiencies portraying vestibules in your feverish attires
Every new soul you see makes you feel homeless
Dizzying altitudes you feel inside the depth of cavities
Indifference on pain and sufferings you crave for
And,
****; you feel inside grandeurs of perspectives
Hate; for the dearth of adulation on you
Liken Gaia could have never taught you of your frailty
Postulation of Karma and de-carnation of meanings made you converted
You were on the path of revolt
Against, say, cosmos!

Every symbolic gestures remind me of your meddlings
Penultimate; utter grievance of never ending poignancy
The night sky could have never baffled about your existence
Palpitation could have never made you shiver
But you have cried,
Of your loneliness!

Say,
A tiny fraction of clairvoyance I gave
Pulled you down into the puddle of wanderings
Instigation of a melody; created the symphony
A mere touch; drenched you into the silken lake
I spoke for your heart and you praised
Then, I gave you love but I got caged

How could I have done whatever you wished?

Since nobody knows,
The culminating dichotomy of your pantheistic ideas,
And of a maggot growing inside you
Breathless desires governing your feet,
And the time falsifying your plutonic ancestry
Mosaic glittering over your virtuous self,
And the tapestry of vanity covering your abysses
Depleting number of Hordes and Tartars fighting for your existence,
And devalued meaning of your modern-self

All those songs that never could soothe you
Teeny panting of your blasphemous heart
Multitude of distances you travelled
Series of condemnation bouncing between you and me
Your fleeting poverty
Your affections on materials
Like you die the death of pertinence
Love shall never please you

Nonchalant, over the,
Embargo you created on the faith
And the game you created on the bliss
But you shall never win
Since, you are a mere human soul
Bless you!!