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Daipayan Nair May 2017
I am full with myself
flowing out unexpectedly
from the nostril.

Oddities are fever.

Openings in walls
are contagious.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.

The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.

Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour

Limit-
the
hidden clown

A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.

Each point
reflected
twice.

Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.

A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
Acidic faces - a humble absorption.

Distortions, accepted
as clean networks in a green eyeball.

Faces flowing as a stream
of black decay, from our skulls

'Others' is an entity
falling for a pit or falling in it.

Base of a base seems lost.

Dilution occurring through kisses
or shutters of infinite resolutions.

Legs become the silent dunes, they cover

Curves preventing from falling,
help in getting stuck and rotting.

Spaces make deadly chemicals
get artistic recognition.

Two roads indulged in zombie meets,
left twisted in a quake.

Fragile fingers now learning
to narrate life with bones, or at least tend to

War has left none rock stiff but bones
and war is when it is to the bone

as some young minds in the middle
of nowhere, of a deserted, bare chest

wrapped in soft, damp, dead twigs,
screaming, take a bath, take a bath.
Daipayan Nair Apr 2017
In this no escape, you believe
Belief is what makes you enter
and belief is what makes you caged.

Sometimes it's more complex
when you admire a heart
The choice is to love it as a pace regulator
of the only similarity we possess.

One is contended with seeing
if it works, and satisfied
that it does work.

But belief in a heart requires
a belief in its veins and arteries
where amidst this superficiality
some love is pushed out, some is accepted
A circulation is believed
and life as a body continues
inspite of the similarity
now named blood

Belief keeps believing
smeared in it, somewhere inside.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
Sad corners
Dark caves
Fumed pits

Dark lagoons
Dead reflections
Caged souls
Black forests

Breeze turning
chilled whistles

Possibility of life
Bigger possibility of ghosts.

True that it
divides a face

Vertical divisions
First choices

Its stoppage
before the lips.

A small tear -
hideout of an
entire negativity.

Horizontal division
is day to day living.

A perfect rule -
we divide in different ways
we cross paths
for a cancellation.
Mr Trismegistus Apr 2017
Father, give me not unto falsehoods and lies,
Nor poverty or riches in its stead;
But please, help me to always be wise,
And give to me only my daily bread.
So, this is really just me taking Proverbs 30:8 and adding a little to make it rhyme. I won't take credit for the words; that should belong to Agur.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2017
.
*Morning ears flower
One monarch butterfly breezed
Chiming temple bells
M Harris Mar 2017
Iridescent Charms & Atomic Raves,
Raptured Revelations In Her Bulletproof Grave,
Impassive Frequencies Of Her Reflections Engraved.

Ionic Ribbons Of Her Artistic Trance,
Neon Contrasts In Her Stellar Stance,
Starry-Eyed Rhapsody In Her Censored Glance,

Vaporized Fractals Draped In Her Past,
Crystallized Specters Sterilized To Last,
Perpetual Panic Triggering A Blast,

Sedated Phantasms In Her Paralyzed Voice,
Isolated Collisions & Distressed Noise,
Overrated Memoirs Of Her Tainted Reprise,

Liquid Shadows In Her Moonlit Dreams,
Theatrical Schemes To Her Grand Regime,
Enigmatic Queen Of Turbulent Screams,

Shipwrecked Effigy Resonating Duality,
Overtuned Spirits Illuminating Reality,
Metaphysical Anniversary Of Her Romantic Fatality.

- 04:28AM -
Kado MacMurphy Feb 2017
to me spirituality is the best interest,
to me freedom is *******
to me freedom of expression is the hole in a dream
for wot u live for
eternity ,
is the essence of our contraption
that is not to overanalyze, or obstruct the notion but,
to me its to enjoy the buzz,
the chaos and all the ****** in the world today,
kids with holes in their bodies, like for what,
for me i jus sit back, like for what,
relax and dose ya mind into these aether waves,
my friends are cool,
they think im cool too,
i guess i am cool,
but to me my friends are fools,
and i am a fool cuz i listen to music like tool,
to me reality includes me,
i am connected to this density, 3D
dimensional awareness, master of frequency
my rhymes make stars vibrate from the skies,
my rythm moves through,
solid matter,  drink bleach
reconstruct a new eye view,
i always lie to myself for what i, for what i,
dont mentally grasp why,
never asked for a mind,
to comprehend gods and time and desire,
morality and math and planting the seeds of our demise,
no lies,
from me,
u only get uncensored reality.
Daipayan Nair Jan 2017
The mirror in my bedroom
is a ruthless killer
It kills without any remorse
chopping you in half,
in the blink of an eye.
Then it's even more visible
as a carefree psychotic
peeling the skin,
keeping for itself,
feeding on the flesh and blood
and storing them too
only to curtain the act & fact
by snatching the dead bones
freeing you at its will
with a plan
which is the most horrific.

And it doesn't stop there.
It further creates a new person
out of your death
thus, trapping your remnant soul forever
It's just the beginning.
Then, it starts killing a death
forever.
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