Tag: Love poem

Nylon skirts and empty glasses

Adithya Sasikala34 Comments

Through those shards of the window glass
Where she used to meet her morning love
In red, green, silly violets snd purples in diamond blues.
Where morning cups of coffees froze till
Their words dried out of silence.
A wind came into light through
The white painted door,
Swaying floralskirts in white and nylon, drinking the
Hot the yellow sun as she walked the dwey lawn.
She never cared in front of others
All left alone, inside a void.
She never cared, he left alone and
All of the sun’s love was in her cup.
In the shards of window glasses
Where the sun bruised it’s shade.
She wore nylon, drank from empty glasses
Danced up in circles and twirled
Till the sun set cold on her shoulder bone
And as the bedsheets set an empty trance
Of a long lost love
Of a long lost lover and her.

.

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© The Rendezvous Club 2019

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Endings don’t matter

Adithya Sasikala30 Comments

I know the ending
I clearly knows how the leaves rustles
I know the wind
It comes and it goes
But it stays too
And I’ve feel it
And all I think about the wind is
Not where it came
Nor where it went
But rather that it felt good.

You came
I know you will go
I know how it will end
I know you won’t be my side
To count the lanes of wrinkles down my eyes
To press my hands against the pillow
When it shakes
To count the leftover teeth by time
In my mouth,
You won’t be there.

But in this moment
I love you
And I know where this is going.
But you are here now,
You are here
And I see you
Smiling pretty
Looking at me like all the world
Cease to exist from now on
And only us matters.
So why should an ending matter
Because everything else is perfect now.

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©The Rendezvous Club 2019

All Rights Reserved!

Stay

Adithya Sasikala57 Comments

Stay! I haven’t said this to a lot of people

But whenever I said it, I ended up hurt

And all that stayed was the hurt

Until my eyes turned red

And my heart turned blue.

Stay! I now say these to my tears

Even they don’t listen

My only refugee is these dark rooms

They abandon me too when they find me toxic, when they want light.

Stay! I love you

Stay! I don’t

Stay! Don’t leave me

Stay! Please.

This is pretty sad, now close your eyes or leave.

I’m done asking for people to stay

Please leave.

Now don’t send me messages

Asking me to be positive,

Or saying that I’m selling agony,

I am not a merchant,

Well if I was I would have sold my dreams

Not my pain.

Now please don’t come asking me for help

Telling me that you love someone

I know that ain’t me

I’m never enough, I’ve heard this a lot.

I know I know, just close your mouth

I may not be beautiful, but I haven’t sold my self respect yet.

Like I said, I’m done asking people to stay,

Those who want to stay, will stay

Even if you ask or not

Those who want to love, will love

Even if you ask or not.

And the only person you want

To stay for you is you,

So you stay put with yourself.

And remember you’re beautiful

Just tell him to get lost.

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©The Rendezvous Club 2019

All Rights Reserved!

Lover boy

Adithya Sasikala48 Comments

My lover boy is a violet lover
We do not kiss but instead
We shares moths after sunset
And he always lets me have the wings
And I turn purple every time he touches me.

Each time he listens to leaves rustles
He draws ripples on my dusky skin
With his crimson finger tips and
He counts the circles it forms
On my body, one two three he’d say.

He never rescues me from a random tower
He never covers me with his naked skin
He never buries my secrets within his
He never gives me flowers,
Why give you flowers which gifts you thorns he’d say.

But he knows my aching spot
He balms it with reddish poems from forlorn bins
Gently massages tiny bit of oil into my cuts
And asks me never to leave him
But I must leave him
For

My lover boy is a violet lover but
He’s violent too,
My aching spot
My painting limbs
My boiling cuts
We’re all a gifts from him,
And I must leave him because
Him balming my skin
Can never make up for his sin.

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© The Rendezvous Club 2019

All Rights Reserved!

Missing someone in raindrops

Adithya Sasikala52 Comments

Summer’s first rain is my Maa
In a black saree, she’s either blessing me
Or she’s crying for my deeds last spring.
She was the one who taught me,
The art of getting drenched in rain
Without turning cold.
She used to say ‘ the trick is to keep your heart warm’
The easy way to do that is
To remember someone kissing your eyes
And someone’s hot breath on your cheeks.
She was my warmth.

We used to count raindrops
Hanging down on window panes
Who were stubborn not to fall,
Oh! how many times have you told me that
You wish you were those raindrops
Strong enough not to fall at least once.
And I have forgotten to count in your absence.
Now while every first rain
I think about you and count
The number of times
I said I miss you and
I count the number of rains
I had spent alone inside the house
Because your warm kiss is not there and
Maa I miss you.

Loving someone is like
June’s first rain,
Everyone wants it,
Waits for it to fall down from heaven
But as soon as it hits
We either drown or send paper boats on potholes.
Drown but never dies and
The paper boats which when turns to mesh
Smells like memories on pollen dust.
And Maa, I miss you.

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© The Rendezvous Club 2019

All Rights Reserved!

I don’t know love

Adithya Sasikala81 Comments

I quit writing love poems
I do not know nothing about that thing
And whenever, I think about love
The only thing that pops to my mind is
This sudden urge to slit my wrist
And to drown my memories in an abyss of forgetfulness.
And I also think about that boy who talked about
The moon as a biscuit in coffee.
But I’ve never seen a white biscuit.

Love is the synergy between a
Void and your want to fill it,
And you’ll let anybody fill it
With anything they want and
You’ll try and call it love.
The smell of mothballs in his shirts,
Camphor in his mouth and
Cigarettes between his fingers
I had called these love once.
Like I said, I don’t know what love is.

The only truth I know is, the ticking
Of the minute hand and the
Nagging of my mother who knows
That I’m incapable of love.
You do not know how to love, she said.
But then again I know that what she has is not
Love either, that’s compulsion, scarifice, adjustments,
Giving yourself up, failing yourself,
That is not love.

Love isn’t a bamboozled parade of
Pretentious happiness, deafening your ears.
And I think about the boy and cry all night
Thinking I might have loved him,
For I loved him even before I knew what love was,
Before I started to search for
A definition to fit
The thing I’ve lost hope for ‘love’ .

..

©The Rendezvous Club 2019All Rights Reserved!