Personal Thoughts, Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

Blue heart

Blue is perfect,

But my heart isn’t.

Red is beautiful,

But my heart isn’t.

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Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

Stale Rose


I think you want a rose now

But would you take a stale one.

Yes I was perfect a few years ago

But nothing stays perfect for long.

My petals aren’t red anymore

They are somewhat like blue bruised black

With all the hits and crush and cracks

And my thorns they are brown

Which will help you identify them

More from my stem.

But they can cut more deeper than before.

Still I do smell the same, you know

And I can make you love and love you back, you see.

But I think you want a perfect rose now

And I’m all stale and drying.


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© 28/01/19 The Rendezvous Club

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funny, Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

Petals of love


I just need one more petal,

One more petal in this rose

To make you fall in love with me.

I plucked out all those fourteen petals

And chanted the words which

I was supposed to say

The last one I got was …

‘He loves me not’

So I need one more petal

Added to this rose

Which I just killed

To make you . . .

Fall in love with me.


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© 20/01/19 The Rendezvous Club

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Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

It’s official


It’s official

I have lost my mind

I can’t come to think of anything now

All it say is you, you, you

And nothing else it care no more

All the papers and poetries in trash

I wish they all burn to ash

And the dust of that too will blacken my hands

Just like what you did to my heart.


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©18/01/2019 The Rendezvous Club

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Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

We

I’ve been thinking in verses now and

Each and every word of it has you,

Molten and infused in perfect composition.

My hands smells beautifully of Blue ink

And it’s stained with it too

But my thoughts smell more beautiful

With love, with the thoughts

I have of you.

Each time I try to write “I”

I can only write “We”

Because that’s the thought that’s imprinted

In my brain, and they flow

Through the nerves to my hand

In impulses.

And look how fast this paper

Absorbs the ink from the pen

I think that’s how fast my eyes absorbed

Your radiant smile and it’s been

Inside me ever since.

I know this is unfinished and

I’m going to leave it like that

And when you find this unfinished poem

under the tree

Inside a pink box along with orchids,

After you’ve finished reading this

I want you to say “We” out loud

Later I want you to finish my verse

And I want you to gift it to me.

You can find me in the garden

Under the tree of your heart and

I’ll be waiting for you.


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© 2/11/18 The Rendezvous Club

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Personal Thoughts, Thoughts recollected in Tranquility

Broken Angel — 2

She didn’t fell in love with the night but darkness engulfed her at a tender age. I got hold of some of her torn pages yesterday. They weren’t dark, tears are never dark. How could she enjoy the night sky when everything around her is pitch black, not just the sky but everything else too. She set her wings in fire so that she could walk in all these darkness without anyone’s help, fearless because other’s would be scared of the fire that’s covering her. But the truth was, she was more afraid than anyone, so she just did all that she could do, she fed the fire.

She covered herself in flames and she burned with it. But her heart was still tender, I could feel that. Her each sighs felt like she was pouring hot lava into my heart. But the stolen glances she had at me cooled my heart at once. Everytime I was around her I felt as if I was hot and cold at the same time, like I’m dying and I’m reborn again, I’m melting and I’m solidifying all at once. Like molten lava meeting the cold sea. Destructive beauty slowly turning to rock.

I wished to be the wind that would blow out the fire around her and make her feel gentle again. But then I feared that maybe the wind would spread the fire more and it will eat whatever green that is left in her. She set her wings on fire so that she could walk in darkness with light, the firey flames of her wings, and I didn’t wanted to be the reason for her turning to ashes. So I stayed away as much as I could, but how can a moth stay away from a flame, if they were destined to be. I wished for her to be my sun, so that I could navigate around her, and not the flame of the world’s lies that draws the moth only to death. . . .

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To be continued . . . .


You can read Broken Angel part–1 Here

© 27/10/18 The Rendezvous Club

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Personal Thoughts

Broken Angel –1

She was a broken Angel with wings of fire, the fire spread from her wings through her veins into her heart. But a simple touch would’ve cooled her down. Still I didn’t want to do it because, we’re always afraid of things we don’t understand. I wanted to read her but it’s just that either she was still unwritten or the pages that I wished I could read were torn. Still there is always something enticing about her, the way her hair falls on her face mostly covering her eyebrows, the beauty of her lying eyes, the way she always hummed while walking through the corridors and how I felt as if, it was only me who could decipher those tunes.

I wanted those lying eyes to reveal it’s secrets and set itself free. At least I wished that those secrets will be whispered into my ears by her and that will set me free, from the shackles that is making me a prisoner to the hidden her. I never really went near her, always looked at her from a distance because i knew, that if I take at least one step I would be drawn towards her for all of infinity and slowly her burning eyes will burn me, with dry ice, not with flames but with cold obscurity that hid behind her heart. . . . . .

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To be continued . . . . .

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© 26/10/18 The Rendezvous Club

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