Eyes and ears, m’dear

Here’s my latest scratchings over at the esteemed Poet’s Blog. Check us out, there’s such diversity abound you’re sure to find something that’ll make you smile.

Poet's Corner

Hear the things,

they speak with their eyes

Words are a lair’s arsenal,

look just how lightly they step

around promises, and juggle emotions

Look within you for your truths,

see what injustice strikes you like a fist,

understand what you stand for.

The outside, of many things, is a facade

the innards, soul and belief belie this

Flesh and bone, masks and smiles

housing within a starlight light,

or void blackness

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Cliché 

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What’s the purpose of it all?

The universal question

Defies language

Defies location

.

Who do they ask?

Why do they?

Humbly I offer

my piece to the puzzle

You decide if and

where it fits:

Life is what you make it

Don’t ask anybody else,

don’t relinquish what

choice you have

.

Ask you, that’s who

The divine will give you hope

But what kind of living is it

when you keep looking for signs

Like living from hand to mouth

.

The divine will give you hope,

that’s all and good,

But take direction and

Let heart consult with the head

– d.s

empty (1)

there is a hole in my stomach

that I dig myself

with scooping hands

shaped with inattention

but I do this absently 

like snoring in sleep

i become aware of this

hollow alcove

when I plunge into waking

when my actions (or inactions)

catch up with me

and I feel in that hollow

a lacking within me

to which only I can or cannot fill

with decision

with conviction 

and with belief in none other

than myself

Coshed over with the fact, 

yet once again,

i am my own saviour 

and my own ruination

– devina s.  

Tiger Lily

Hey folks, things are pretty hectic right now, or at least on the inside and, believe me, I miss writing. There’ll be time soon enough though. Anyway, here’s my newest poem 😉

Poet's Corner

… she sits so still but seems so fluid

Peering out from those Egyptian eyes

Her green gaze prowls and warns

Smelling like an old book,

and then slaps you with citrus

Let her alone, let her be

Tiger Lily will stare holes

Into your soul

You won’t like what she’ll see

© Devina S.

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On the wind

Hi people, if there are still any of you here (and thanks for sticking around!). I’m scrambled and uncertain and I don’t get to post as much as I used to, as much as I’d want to. A lot of what I do is writing but I’m not up to the actual posting, it’s become so exhausting but here’s something I just put together for Ermilia Blog’s Picture it and Write!

Not mine! Got it from the main post, see link above.

Gleaming eyes offer

the heat of a crackling fire

Ivory complexion, a reflection

of burnished moonlight

 

Lips like exotic blossom

Words like scented pulses

Laughter a riotous bloom

Petals of you ride this wayward wind

 

You are this aching welcome, a magnet

to you I come, but you fade, again

Elusive, intrusive, always there

Out of reach, every bloody time

© Devina S.

Reader, I am

You dance the waltz

Of uncertainty

Envisioned citadel

Blown away

Like a house of cards

But like the escapist you are

You found a rabbit hole

Within the brittle husks of trees

Right there solidly in your grasp

With it you smother the fabric of the present

Even for a little while

The lazy exhales of a saxophone

Drowns the pestering flies of noises of reality

In a plane of impossibility,

You find yourself suspended there,

In that unshakable place of strength

A sense of home you create and take with you

Whichever way you roam.

© Devina S.

Perspective (1)

“What are you looking at with your
eyes so closed?” asked the cat.
“The stars and brighter suns. And dark nights
that even the demons
are scared to dance,” she said.
The cat was quiet for some time, then said,
“Deep waters, you mean. Now see
The lily that lives on the surface.”

– Devina

Commute

You see me on the train

Usually your gaze passed over me like a light drizzle

You noticed me, today’s eye of the storm

An innocuous fixture

In your dream-scape of blurry reality

You focus on me (dunno why, not that special)

On my sand brown skin and longish chestnut hair

Your eyes probe my prone form

I grow nervous, but I stare right back

I’m too tired to care this second, ginger boy

What do you see,

How sharp is the harpoon of your gaze,

Will it pin my soul in place, at your mercy?

You seem kind enough, black depth-less  eyes glisten with curiosity

You might have been shy once, what makes you so bold now

Stranger mine, that you brazenly attempt to read me

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