#holds
For Shambhavi, who defines her poetry thusly:
“Each word in my poems holds a tear
which I never let fall.”
~~~
the first provocation to cross my eyes this day
and my synapses crackle,
ha! should I say “$parkle?”
no.
my instincts cry out
au contraire,
every tear of every poem
of the many thousands I have penned,
was written in the distorted haze of
tears
free flowing, occluding my vision,
but not my hearted emotive engine…
impossible
not to think of the gutted wrenching
that takes me places,
where the humdruming of the day
glosses over, like a flat pebble skipping over water,
till the gravity of my emotions
drag it beneath
and a
POEM
conceived,
taken from my birthing canal,
the gift of the holy of holies of my
two temples;
the Ayodhya Ram Mandir in Uttar Pradesh,
and the Tirumala Venkateswara Temple
many Joseph colored, either a gushing fusioned flow
pouring from my orifices,
screaming tears fulfilling
the emptiness dislodged
by
the pushing shoving forcing illicit
eliciting
of scraps of my soul:
without tears
I am stuck stranded,
they
this admixture of mixte fluids that carries the thrushed flush
of words to my lips, my fingertips,
it is not pretty,
unlike you,
so be it,
I get it,
Prarabdha Karma
and my free will
to surrender
to it
<nml>
10:27 AM Mon Feb 6 2026
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 10:18 AM UTC
I write on paper,
A lot more,
Since the last six months,
It feels better,
Than staring down a screen,
Where I tie my artistry,
To the last echoing words,
I wish I let them pull me out,
Of all this,
Much sooner.
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
In these vacant palms — cradled by the essence of my aspirations;
I clung to you with every enduring emotion, trembling and slick
with the weight of nostalgia, far beyond what could be deemed
ordinary, or wise in grasping at faded recollections.
My throat feels parched; I gulped down a swarm of love bugs,
hoping to replenish the affection I’ve lost — __lost lovers.__ My
fingers bear the scars of nervous habits, raw and gnawed down
to the quick; the restless heart fears that the sharpness of love
might not pierce me as it once did.
Nov 3, 2024
Nov 3, 2024 at 4:28 PM UTC
Let fresh conscious breath take hold
when another day awaits in present tense.
Expand belly and chest for a stronger posture stretch, as our sun unfolds to shine on us below.
Unknown forms take shape with whispers of support to maintain your core beliefs and direct identity.
You are new too but your eyes remain the same, even when we vary as our inclinations change.
Certain keys can help create a sweeter harmony, tune into stable tones which hit those silent notes.
Time is vast and so the flesh grows old, but decisions we make frame our future states.
A higher sense of self holds longer term goals, corresponding with tolerance promotes fairer play.
Jul 1, 2021
Jul 1, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
Realise it's hard to
mediate between infinite identities
Past versions were
and are for learning
Remember that grasp what was felt as
present tense only has direction of sense
Your future holds purpose
Aspire to dream and combine oneself
solely through teamwork of being
who you are
what you are
where you are
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 9:52 AM UTC
Superficial feelings: a high of great command;
Introspective warfare in the palm of your hand.
Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 1:25 AM UTC
Mary holds the lifeless body
As tears flow from her eyes
Does she also know that
Soon her son must rise?
Mary holds her baby's hand
So little and so frail
Does she also understand
That they would be pierced by a nail?
Mary holds her son close to her chest
When they find him teaching
Does she feel so blessed that
Even to death He is reaching?
Mary holds her son to wish him a good day
As he works with Joseph at his trade
Mary holds our hand as we walk the way
God says: see the work my hands have made!
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Of games
Scary games
In and out as it please
Tease
Hearing things
Making its presence near
Should we be fearful of the strength it can't
Hurt with
I feel its grip
Move along with it
Drifting into
The phantom's pull
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
Pull on my,
STARSUIT
Let the silvery fabric,
Engulf me,
Let your eyes swim in the patterns,
Night after night,
I capture your eyes,
Keep my gaze for,
As long as you can remember,
My,
STARSUIT,
Is sure to dazzle you,
Even if it isn't a dress,
Because a dress,
Would get caught in my satin tresses,
My obsessions,
Like the night,
Gleaming down my double breasted bow,
As my shiny black shoes walk over to you,
It's my STARSUIT,
Memorable,
Don't you see?
The way my body holds it,
Or,
It holds me,
It's my,
STARSUIT.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
the softness
of the rain
gentles
and
holds
me
dear
cj 2016
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
anxiety kicks down the door
and holds you at gunpoint-
he, who is the most unforgiving of all,
does not care where you come from,
what you’re doing, who you’re with.
he hijacks the system. he takes over
the plane you were trained to fly. he
is a terrorist who you cannot escape
from and you cannot imprison.
you are not safe in your body.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Regardless of what is going on in the mind,
irrespective of the fact with what you have got in your mind,
does'nt matter what the present moment in time holds for you,
there will be moments in life when life will come up with surprises.
Surprises which will surprise you enough.
Somethings in life start with something specific in mind
By the time when they end, they end on a completely different note
Strange are the ways of life.
Strange is life,
even uncertain at times,
but then that's life and life continues.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
***Fear is but a sentiment
The weak holds for being what they are,
For being what they made themselves.***
-fir.m
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 7:09 AM UTC
She could die any day.
Just tip-toe away.
But what would they say?
They still say she's okay.
...They don't say "please stay."
They cry when good men die.
They cry when they are scared.
They cry all the time.
They cry here.
They cry there.
So why?
Why?
Why for her, they don't cry?
Here she will fly between fire and sky,
in an ocean
her only air being devotion.
Life&Death; her only notion.
Is it bad to wish for a potion?
A spell to make this spell go?
She may try so-,
but I just don't know.
Why?
Why?
Why can't they see?
The lost,
the falling,
she's calling
she gives them a sign,
she loses grasp of her life's line.
Why?
Why?
Why don't they cry?
Cry for her.
Care for her!
See her here!
Please..
one tear.
Suppress her deepest fear.
Her pain is not mere.
She WILL fall,
if there is no bridge,
between the buildings in her mind.
She WILL tumble,
down,
if no one holds her hand,
and she get's left behind.
Save her.
Savor her.
For like this she will not last.
Deprived of what she needs,
internally she bleeds.
Cry
for just one day.
Prove to her,
she will be okay.
Teach her,
how to no be alone.
Love her,
don't leave her on her own.
Cry
Don't lie to her.
Don't act so refined.
She knows those lies,
she isn't blind.
And for once,
just for once,
when her thoughts have intertwined,
I beg of you,
I plead of you,
no one leave her behind.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC