"headily" poems
A thousand god-eating plates in a summer wind
Listen, china-white, to the audible inaudible that flanks
The paint-chip, earth-red bridges. Susurrations weave
Through grass with spider fingers; following curves in seashells
As a voluble electric screen who Speaks as dew and taste.
Water is depth beyond what can be acquainted with memory
Or fancy. Watches turn delicate, May-lace and wedding night
Music: Vertical, Veiled, Very. Dust in the stream lisps
Headily to shore, rests by a forgotten child’s shoe,
Bronzes it like mother’s finger and burns like daybreak.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 2:46 PM UTC
There is something there, in the essence of this, something that i tasted, salt and sweat, dripping from your fingertips. There is footsteps in the stairway around my heart, i hear them creaking in the moonlight, as you find your way in the dark.
Where is my vision?
I don't tend to look at your eyes, i cannot, i do not have to be that strong. I found a million pardons, when i was asking if there was something i did wrong. I feel the scoop of your hand on that familiar place on my back, and i headily breathe you, as i hear your knuckles crack, from the weight of my familiarity.
Where do i come from?
What is that whisper in the ****** air. The dreams that i have are so absent and so bare. I lost and i lose and try to walk again, on broken ankles, with broken toes, my legs have the strength of ten men. And i am lost, i am lost, and i will say it again. But i am lost in being lost, so is this my religion, my prayer and my a-men?
Where is my heart?
Free me, throw me into the air, shoot me, ****** me, act like you don't care. There is no obligation in an ounce of your tone. Your music is denotation, your heartbeat becomes a microphone. And you sing, you sing, a love song to me 'Dorothy you are home'
Where is my place?
Dreaming of second comings, and i desperately seek your face. I want to kiss you, to kiss you, with my lips, i will erase. You are nothing more to me, than a seeker in this battle of sun-down to sun-up. Find me, come hide me, come fill me with your cup.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
All that glitters never meant much to me,
Petals fall & fade, withering along with time like its temporary immortality,
Money joining suit in its temporary fervour, but never buying love as the Beatles crooned.
So let me tell you what does:
The look on your face when I've made you happy with a surprise or two;
The sound of your laughter reverberating through the air as I cowl in my witty silly remarks;
The mental connection that pleasantly astounds me with every thought-stealing line and mirrored gestures-humour-reaction-action;
How your words has awaken the inner dormant writer/poet and inspired to put my venomous quill to paper again;
How you make me feel beautiful, appreciated and respected, just the way I am;
Your empathy and understanding that chase the dark clouds away and silence my demons;
The way we make love with the glances we exchange in public like there's no one around;
The way we make love with our bodies, explorative archaeologists tracing each other's landscapes gently-sweetly-devilishly;
How you claim my arm across, intertwining with yours, caressing it as if it's a part of you;
When your palm holds my face lovingly while we exchange sweet kisses, nibbles and all;
Blowing soft breaths onto our goosebumpy skins, whispering how much we love each other;
Cheekily stealing smooches at traffic light stops which never seem to be long enough;
Resting your head on my sturdy shoulder as I cushion mine into yours, christening it with my lips,
As we serenade that BSB song transporting me back to 14 again.
And the realization pierces me through like truth always does:
That I would not trade any moment, any era, any wish, any desire
Than the one right now with you that has headily grasped me so:
A dizzying cocktail of drugs that is you.
Shalini Nayar
31.10.14
(c) 2014
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
My anorexia, to you I write
How I hate the way you smell, sound and look
Invading my mind day and through the night
Always dreaming of the big passbook
Let me compare you to an evil crust
You are more hateful, cruel and deadly
White heat toasts the black frolics of stardust
And Summertime has the scary headily
How do I hate you? I'll count the ways
I hate your emptiness, starving me to bones
Thinking of your food fills my days
My hate for you is the primeval loans
Now I must away with a deadly heart
Remember my words whilst we're apart
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 3:38 AM UTC
In sandalwood grove
I learned the echo of water to your form
My hands cupping clay-stained water
And smearing the settling sediments
About your prone frame
I kissed resin from between your knees
And beckoned hippo’s bray in dusks heat
Tangerine rinds cusp dipped dew between
Your collar and my own
As I newly learned the friction of water about my body
Sinking headily into tones of each other’s woods
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
From there, it took off
In a tight and furious arch
That so fast
Seemed slowed
By heartbeats
Tied to a certain spark, accelerated
As it came flying back towards the land again
Like some sort of strange bird
Or insect
So controlled, yet so headily wild
Throwing back its head
Catching on fire
Burning down the line
Burning down its spine
All pressure telling it to fly
From the post
Burst outward
In an explosion akin to stars
Or bullet wounds
Arching, terribly fast
It hits the palm of my hand
And lolls like a tired dog
Breathing
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 2:03 PM UTC
*limbs extended in surrender
slowly sapping expectation
humbled by the loss of leaves
casted to the fate of winds
moss casually draping down
bunting to the veranda below
naturally setting the stage
a balmy night's curtain call
perfume of coronated lime
headily rising to a salsa beat
the rhythm of a porch swing
rocking vaguely to memories
on a branch the bird alights
free to love and to be loved
conducting energy of promise
awakening roots to the fall*
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
Just like the winter solstice
You just make my days brighter
The sun shines more headily
Coffee tastes better
But just like the summer solstice
When u walk away
The nights for darker and colder
The dread of icy roads ahead.
But the in between
The spring and autumn solstice
Were full of fun and adventurous night
Where we didnt have a care in the world about the light and dark
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 8:36 PM UTC
beneath the
violet skies
headache
headily
headlong
heading
to you
–as if it was today–
do not say
a word
again
never
disclosure.
as the first sight
disclose yourself
to me
you were my night
and now
testimonying the sun
somewhere else
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 4:57 PM UTC