It's 6.15pm and I'm sitting at the beachside.
Each wave reminds me of everything we had before you left..
And sometimes I wonder, "why isn't the sun setting?"
"Each shell tells me another story about this world", you used to tell me
Nights passed days and days passed nights when we were together inside our beachside apartment.
Sometimes strolling throughout the beach, hand in hand, locked like a mollusk inside its shell. Felt like home.
The shells we used to pick up and collect.
They still stay inside the turquoise bowl we bought for ourselves.
Still long after you left.
I still talk to them just like you would pretend that they're telling you stories from another world.
And today I found the courage to walk to the beach for more, I'm wanting to listen to more stories but you're not here
It's 6.15pm and I'm sitting at the beachside.
Each wave reminds me of everything we had before you left..
And sometimes I wonder, "why isn't the sun setting?"
It's a fine orange amd crimson colour now. Dipped inside the blues of the sky.
But love, today it takes longer to set probably knowing what's missing.
You.
The sun isn't setting and I await to listen to more stories but you're not here.
#sam #review
Each wave reminds me of everything we had before you left..
And sometimes I wonder, "why isn't the sun setting?"
"Each shell tells me another story about this world", you used to tell me
Nights passed days and days passed nights when we were together inside our beachside apartment.
Sometimes strolling throughout the beach, hand in hand, locked like a mollusk inside its shell. Felt like home.
The shells we used to pick up and collect.
They still stay inside the turquoise bowl we bought for ourselves.
Still long after you left.
I still talk to them just like you would pretend that they're telling you stories from another world.
And today I found the courage to walk to the beach for more, I'm wanting to listen to more stories but you're not here
It's 6.15pm and I'm sitting at the beachside.
Each wave reminds me of everything we had before you left..
And sometimes I wonder, "why isn't the sun setting?"
It's a fine orange amd crimson colour now. Dipped inside the blues of the sky.
But love, today it takes longer to set probably knowing what's missing.
You.
The sun isn't setting and I await to listen to more stories but you're not here.
#sam #review
//A Poet's Ode//
He is an artist
Often devalued
But inside his veins
runs ink of blue...
And inside his mind
Reside words as beautiful as new
He is a construction carved
To ultimate talents
That go beyond our reach
His hand, crafted to write
Scribble. Sometimes.
Ideas he sews, to make it
Yet another piece
My mind shuffles
I am dumbfounded
Funneling through filters
Of praises. Of tributes. Of odes.
A poet's ode.
He carries valour in his eyes
Expressive of expression
Through his pen
Encased with love
Serenity
That's who an artist is
Often disgraced
But inside his veins
Runs ink of blue
Wrote this 2 years back. Thought maybe it could get some reviews.
#sam #review
He is an artist
Often devalued
But inside his veins
runs ink of blue...
And inside his mind
Reside words as beautiful as new
He is a construction carved
To ultimate talents
That go beyond our reach
His hand, crafted to write
Scribble. Sometimes.
Ideas he sews, to make it
Yet another piece
My mind shuffles
I am dumbfounded
Funneling through filters
Of praises. Of tributes. Of odes.
A poet's ode.
He carries valour in his eyes
Expressive of expression
Through his pen
Encased with love
Serenity
That's who an artist is
Often disgraced
But inside his veins
Runs ink of blue
Wrote this 2 years back. Thought maybe it could get some reviews.
#sam #review
The Mirage's last post reminded me of something similar I wrote quite some time back titled
//3 AM// Thought I'd share..
3 AM
I woke up
From a bizzarely falling night
Inside the sheets sheltered from
a starry-lit world outside
And as my sleep distances towards
unworldly craves
My heart drags my feelings on roads to
inevitably apocalyptic graves
3.12 am
I knew the day stretched long
3.12 and I am still strong
...Longer than when you were
Within spitting distance
tired eyes holding on to resistance
3.26 am
Three- twenty- six and my eyes hold
no longer, cuddling up myself I rolled
Splattering drops of rain outside
A thousand colours dying inside
Those salty lashes shivering in the cold
Once lit eyes, at darkness's threshold
3.59 am
Almost morning
I know how the day would begin
A tired mind prescribing the eyes
"no more", wiping these unhappy cheeks
Hushing her who was always mine
scrunching up the blankets
I turn.. consoling both me and last night's
Inebriation. "You are strong" I hush;
"You are strong"
#sam #review
//3 AM// Thought I'd share..
3 AM
I woke up
From a bizzarely falling night
Inside the sheets sheltered from
a starry-lit world outside
And as my sleep distances towards
unworldly craves
My heart drags my feelings on roads to
inevitably apocalyptic graves
3.12 am
I knew the day stretched long
3.12 and I am still strong
...Longer than when you were
Within spitting distance
tired eyes holding on to resistance
3.26 am
Three- twenty- six and my eyes hold
no longer, cuddling up myself I rolled
Splattering drops of rain outside
A thousand colours dying inside
Those salty lashes shivering in the cold
Once lit eyes, at darkness's threshold
3.59 am
Almost morning
I know how the day would begin
A tired mind prescribing the eyes
"no more", wiping these unhappy cheeks
Hushing her who was always mine
scrunching up the blankets
I turn.. consoling both me and last night's
Inebriation. "You are strong" I hush;
"You are strong"
#sam #review
/Maybe somewhere in another world you still sing me Pal Pal Dil ke Paas by Kishore Kumar on intoxicated nights and maybe we still dance to it like an 80s couple madly in love./
Woke up with daze.
The red wine from last night still
on its taste.
Looking out at the still drenched window,
And at the clouds outcast upon like it will rain soon
maybe just wanting to hold a little longer,
I wonder, if there's a parallel world where it's raining and we held a little longer..
And maybe a little tighter?
I unlock my phone and look for that secret folder on my phone vault
that holds a little more than memories
And just a little less than an eternity.
and browse.
Found us in the rain
My heart breaks for the millionth time
as I look at me in your hoodie..
And your shoulders, all droopy
And more than I could see, I can hear you singing to me James Arthur's
Say You won't let go
On the best of chords
And maybe in another parallel world it's raining and I wonder if there, you chose to let go
My brain drowns out by what ifs
Screaming maybe somewhere in another world you still sing me Pal Pal Dil ke Paas by Kishore Kumar on intoxicated nights and maybe we still dance to it like an 80s couple madly in love.
Or maybe somewhere in another universe it's raining and we're at our favourite cafe again talking about the brew and maybe a thing or two
And you take my hand in yours
I wonder if all this could be true
Or is this just how our story ends?
When it starts to rain with windows splattering again on the highest
And I end up here, with empty hands
#sam #review
Woke up with daze.
The red wine from last night still
on its taste.
Looking out at the still drenched window,
And at the clouds outcast upon like it will rain soon
maybe just wanting to hold a little longer,
I wonder, if there's a parallel world where it's raining and we held a little longer..
And maybe a little tighter?
I unlock my phone and look for that secret folder on my phone vault
that holds a little more than memories
And just a little less than an eternity.
and browse.
Found us in the rain
My heart breaks for the millionth time
as I look at me in your hoodie..
And your shoulders, all droopy
And more than I could see, I can hear you singing to me James Arthur's
Say You won't let go
On the best of chords
And maybe in another parallel world it's raining and I wonder if there, you chose to let go
My brain drowns out by what ifs
Screaming maybe somewhere in another world you still sing me Pal Pal Dil ke Paas by Kishore Kumar on intoxicated nights and maybe we still dance to it like an 80s couple madly in love.
Or maybe somewhere in another universe it's raining and we're at our favourite cafe again talking about the brew and maybe a thing or two
And you take my hand in yours
I wonder if all this could be true
Or is this just how our story ends?
When it starts to rain with windows splattering again on the highest
And I end up here, with empty hands
#sam #review
THE POET AND THE PATRIOT
Who is that?
I suppose none but
The dreaded, Ill-famed patriot
Reciting behind the pebble stones,
Adorned with a beautiful dress
Is a scrupulous poetess
She throws of words,
a pointed crest
That hit the patriot on the chest
He shudders at that costly show
While the poetess glows out in the snow
His path overshadowed
with petals of rose;
embellished with a thousand vows
That sound in the distance, had everything done
The bullet hit him from the pistol gun
A thousand poems and eulogies written for the patriot
While his honoured body laid forever in the mud.
This piece was inspired by The Patriot by Robert Browning
#couplets #review #sam
Who is that?
I suppose none but
The dreaded, Ill-famed patriot
Reciting behind the pebble stones,
Adorned with a beautiful dress
Is a scrupulous poetess
She throws of words,
a pointed crest
That hit the patriot on the chest
He shudders at that costly show
While the poetess glows out in the snow
His path overshadowed
with petals of rose;
embellished with a thousand vows
That sound in the distance, had everything done
The bullet hit him from the pistol gun
A thousand poems and eulogies written for the patriot
While his honoured body laid forever in the mud.
This piece was inspired by The Patriot by Robert Browning
#couplets #review #sam
The Sky, a Canvas
The sky is a Canvas
Of a thousand beady lights
the artist is the almighty
of ethereal, beautiful nights
For a thousand beady lights
my eyes gleam of reflection
Of an ethereal, beautiful night
carved to perfection
my eyes gleam of reflection
At the blend of the colours
Carved to perfection
shows it's a creation, as perfect as that of Scholars'
the blend of the colours
is an evidence to suffice
To show it's a creation almost, like that of Scholars'
the stars twinkle, as if melting Ice
an evidence to suffice
Is the Splendour in a night
as if melting ice
fills my heart with delight
the Splendour in a night
Gleams too bright
my heart fills with delight
and inspires me to write..
Author's note: This was an example of a Pantoum. For whoever doesn't have a clue about what it is 😂, it's a piece of writing where each stanza is limited to 4 lines and the 2nd and 4th line of a stanza must be repeated as the 1st and 3rd line of the following stanza with little to no differences.
Some useful information.. Thought I should share 😅
#sam #review #pantoum
The sky is a Canvas
Of a thousand beady lights
the artist is the almighty
of ethereal, beautiful nights
For a thousand beady lights
my eyes gleam of reflection
Of an ethereal, beautiful night
carved to perfection
my eyes gleam of reflection
At the blend of the colours
Carved to perfection
shows it's a creation, as perfect as that of Scholars'
the blend of the colours
is an evidence to suffice
To show it's a creation almost, like that of Scholars'
the stars twinkle, as if melting Ice
an evidence to suffice
Is the Splendour in a night
as if melting ice
fills my heart with delight
the Splendour in a night
Gleams too bright
my heart fills with delight
and inspires me to write..
Author's note: This was an example of a Pantoum. For whoever doesn't have a clue about what it is 😂, it's a piece of writing where each stanza is limited to 4 lines and the 2nd and 4th line of a stanza must be repeated as the 1st and 3rd line of the following stanza with little to no differences.
Some useful information.. Thought I should share 😅
#sam #review #pantoum
/Breathing/Breathing in Your Words/
I am trapped,
Confined within the spaces
Of the words you write.
I know you lock them.
Not to let me escape,
locking us
Also, in your heart
And likely throwing the key
In those ponds of secrecy
Too deep it goes,
Sinking in them
sailing but forever with
the flow of those waters, you know?
Just like boats.
Capsized.
I sink in your words,
deeper as you broaden your poems
Now I know why they're
always long.
I am trapped
In the poetic devices you use.
Just like how in those caesuras,
I am contained.
Not "trapped", as you would call it
More like, I do not want
to escape
Nor let you let me escape
#sam #review
I am trapped,
Confined within the spaces
Of the words you write.
I know you lock them.
Not to let me escape,
locking us
Also, in your heart
And likely throwing the key
In those ponds of secrecy
Too deep it goes,
Sinking in them
sailing but forever with
the flow of those waters, you know?
Just like boats.
Capsized.
I sink in your words,
deeper as you broaden your poems
Now I know why they're
always long.
I am trapped
In the poetic devices you use.
Just like how in those caesuras,
I am contained.
Not "trapped", as you would call it
More like, I do not want
to escape
Nor let you let me escape
#sam #review
The unspoken silence, unseen sight all felt like the unfelt feeling.
My nose could talk, my ears could speak and my stomach could breath.
Nails growing on my head and hair on my finger tips felt like what I could never imagine till when.....when my heart was pumping water instead of blood and my beard grew on my forehead.
No, this is not a dream but a hypo.. What if?
#Sam Git- Samir #review
My nose could talk, my ears could speak and my stomach could breath.
Nails growing on my head and hair on my finger tips felt like what I could never imagine till when.....when my heart was pumping water instead of blood and my beard grew on my forehead.
No, this is not a dream but a hypo.. What if?
#Sam Git- Samir #review