Vikshipta Jul 11

Latterly..

Words theyv been feeble
Waves much unstable
Wallowing on the spectrum
Of overruling phantasm:
And eye have become...
Nothing.
Nothing but an oddball-
| Certifiable |
tenebrous influence-
| Socially unacceptable |
Day by day getting more and more..
un..available.
And All these Stoicism
All those optimism
Now have been
Swamped away by the skepticism
While every destructive mechanism -
They
Swift..
along..
The throat level
( choking )
And It is all inescapable
For them Crus are Tethered 
Catatonic and unfeathered
Aaand 
I am
choking
on
Every hit
of ripples
That I swallow
For this pond is 
narrow
Way too shallow.
For me...
to
Sink.

Vikshipta Jun 26

Gone past hours,
Rooftop and midnight blues..
till the smoke mingled with stars
Till sky flooded without clues..
I stole my grandpa's whiskey for breakfast
And refilled my crippled caffiene glass
Ohh!! must I get over this -
For in no time'
I  could pick a stranger new
Only to abandon the ephemeral love tonight
Must i get over with muddy waters
Ohhh!! Must I with bukka white.

Vikshipta Jun 11

Bolted junkyard
and the absenteeism
flits me winding up..
Counting the preumbra of Columba livia
on those marmalade hue of maudlin chillness..
As it commixes up onto wafting airborne:
drifting over the scattered cumulonimbus.
Far flocking flappers .
80° collateral to peeking atomic number 10.
Oh crystalline form of pure carbon..
All mighty massif .
All parallel to 180°.
99 sometimes .
69 and 36 degree.
minus the 13, it sways...
the oscillating stripes.
And the vivid blazing heap of splitting cotton-balls ..
metamorphosing into some voodoo like
Magical. magnetic. amethyst horizon
Devouring the fading dodger wide blue .
Then restoration again.
The alter coequal to dreary cawing
And these paranoiac utterance...
The phantasm.
The illusion..
and
eye..
skidding off-track the reality.
Detaining every grasp of it.

Vikshipta Jun 11

Tornado of Boiling waves
birling within the bolted cranium
Hunting wolves
Hungry and chained
Hunted roòm
Hurling sunshine
The hit.
The push.
Falling Marks on skin
red and blue and noir sun..shine
Sinking dribbles on skin..
Pale and brackish. the anaemic sun..shine
Buds on broken branches
Thirsty and dolorous
But the sun shines gloomy
The sun shines crestfallen !

Vikshipta Jun 10

These frail mane still smells of coffin nail.
Hands..Struggling with metacarpus to trade the manus ..
stretch. scratch. Twirl.
Orbs: wide and wrathful:
Fluctuating the pupils
left and right
| Mad mad |
Concerntating on these screams..
screams into le noir lughole .
THERE!
I grasp your fluttering wings.
Oh you flutterer !
fluttering on C.
Fluttering hushed ..
Fluttering hasten..
fluttering to strive for nooks and blood.
Oh you flutterer!
erroneous target thee choosed.
Smash. Squeeze.
Alas!
now ease into mine ichor palms.

Death is inevitable. But somes, they are meant for it...THE EXTIRPATION
Vikshipta Jun 10

Possessing these few
On my fingers and My Toes
not much but e-nough

Sunken loyalty
surged into the abyss of
synthetic shrug off .

Sucking in-to voids
I: enigma machine
-- A Confusion cirque.

enmity vents
propagating soothsayer---
Such A paranoid

frailty to indulge
Even with the countable
Please no more strangers

For throng furnishes
Nothing but suffocation
vague sanctuary

So rather eye lurk
Within the truest fondness : My :
__ imagination !

Vikshipta Jun 8

Wrapped  in a pair of in-commensurable clothing
covered under this thick layers of condemn
frigid thoughts:
they crack ! zoom !
soon shalt it be
whacked ? cleaved ?
possessed by these insecurities..
these dilemmas..
grinning! grinding!
" you dont have sufficient defenses to avoid me "
" you dont have enough exit to  fucking escape me "
just because i dont own some 3.5 inches hanging between my thighs
just to extend itself to some 6.5 inches
when it needs to be..
feeded ! shaked !
yes i have been concealed..
enslaved by this hypotrical rapid advanced state of moral decay
not to ever break the treaty..
the treaty ..they chocked me with
all long the genesis
when the sawbones miserably proclaimed " oh its a girl "
but never did she declared how many .
now:
trip over each
hold onto the other
between the mania and back
i am left with a zilch
hollow ! sunken !
nothing but these several Me's.
nothing but these fabricated decorum.

nothing..
but these everything :
I SHRUG!!

Next page