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candidcolumn's Blog

~ When Emotions wreck havoc ,and thine Triumphant Erudition cannot be held within the prison of the Mind,thence the perfect Ambience is created to bring forth the child of Spontaneity – namely our Beloved Poetry :)

candidcolumn's Blog

Category Archives: modern

Rhythmic Retropection

28 Wednesday Feb 2018

Posted by candidcolumn in amnesia, amour, Art, body, culture, death, dream, friendship, gender roles, goddess, innocence, intoxicated, longing, loss, love, Love poetry, magic, masculine power, memories, mind, miracles, modern, mysticism, night, nocturnal, optimism, poet, poetry, power, Rage, sensual, sex, Silence, society, soul, sufi, Thought, woman power, writing, yin yang

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​Come consume the silence within me,

Which makes as much noise as an incomplete task.

What doesn’t exist, exists in that

Presence of a world unknown.

Unfiltered love-

Raw and real;

Sleepless transgressions 

Devour

Cosmic sounds.

Stirrings,

Like a piano languorously 

symphonising.

A crinkled heart.

A cloth alive once on a  warm body,

lies on the

Floor… Silent, cold.

Memories rise like vapours; fragrant,

Mesmerising,

Melancholic.


Like a cessated beat 

Resuscitating.

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A Feminine Forest

15 Wednesday Nov 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, biology, bodies, body, culture, dream, gender, gender roles, goddess, love, Love poetry, magic, masculine power, modern, optimism, poet, poetry, political, power, Rage, sensual, sex, society, soul, Thought, woman power, writing, yin yang

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​

Brainstorming for gender norms

Imbues a conflict within the 

Uncultured, undernourished mind.

The red is unsegregated from black,

Wide open: exposure, thighs, breasts, hair, hormones.

Not mouth, not words.

Desire comes with a penis,

Cunt is muted.

Lipsticks are sucked by

Preachers of colours.

Lighters are for cigarettes and femmes,

Love becomes perversion if its all female or male.

From lumberyard to kitchen

The designation fades into 

A pink and blue.

Oriental or Occidental its the age old blame:

Divide her legs, 

Her words, 

Her labour, 

Her biological order, 

Her thoughts.

To empower “mankind”, to reign.

Freya or Kali fuming with apocryphal anecdotes,

Montaging the territory in thunders of red, 

Riling to faceless descriptions,

Of red red red.

No! not red, for god’s sake!

It’s the scarlet, unchaste letter!

Make synonyms, prudent and proper.

Elemental daughters are aliens of yore,

Indoor and outdoor

Justice and equality 

Must have a fair score.

Coloured Cosmos

04 Friday Aug 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amnesia, amour, Art, death, dream, innocence, intoxicated, love, Love poetry, magic, miracles, modern, mysticism, optimism, poet, poetry, Rage, sensual, sex, soul, sufi, Thought, writing

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She was raised on white, all pervasive, predominant, disciplined white. If she made a mess, clumsy as she was, it exposed itself outrageously on her ablescent backdrop. What a pity ! She used to muse on the whites of her kins, was it impeccable? It seemed to her that it was; Or was it that theirs was of a distinct hue? She was burdened with guilt, a dark shade of grey was ingrained in her morassy white life. Bullied and betrayed by the so-called connoisseurs or bigots of whites, mocked her defiled life, her lowered spirits, her internal monologues. Brown, grey, mixed in the pool of white. 


Blue was her fortunate discovery, it empowered her, her absolute love and support was Blue ! Dark, regal, calm, composed, powerful blue. How it coloured her white, turning the grey and brown to Blue, Blue, Blue. Never leaving her side, her constant stronghold, her profound Azure! Ah ! She was ecstatic with joy and imbued with peace, no judgements, or bullying hurt her, she loved herself, she loved her Azure, and a vow of eternal kinship was made. She was free of the colourful society, living and enjoying it’s colours, but never letting it emblazon her. 

It was a certain pink in the air, with a tinge of yellow, gold, breezy blue, when Red became her secret colour, seeping deep and thick through her, pleasurable, exciting, throbbing, murderous, monumental, life changing, ambiguous Red. She lost her days and her nights, her body and her mind, and Blue was witnessing a sinful sight. Alas! It was a bewitching plight. Only blue had known, the whites of her childhood disciplinarians would at times catch a reflection of the Scarlet, the Threatening carmine, on their whites, fearing a rebellion, which was taking shape, revolution and revolt. Hers was an elusive one, satiating her, and in turn, making the fascistic autocrats fear anarchy. She laughed a drunken laugh, drunk on red, hot, sultry, smothering, seductive red. She was colourful for Red. Blue was in the backdrop, protecting the white that was left, for her well-being. She had ridden Black. Dark . Darker. Darkest. She was far away from pastel shades. Red had given her black, red took it away, it turned into a pastel pink. She was anxious, hysterical, it cannot be! Red was gradually fading, turning pink for her, although only through her vision; red was the same. 

She realised that pink is her weakness, she coloured pink so dark, that it became red again. Red was always her secret. It still lingered around her, on uncertain occasions, in dark alleyways, on revolutionary roads, in anarchy, in love, in outcasts, in Bohemians, in carnality, in secrecy, in writings, in poetry, in physicality and in depths of amour. 

She had epiphanies, she was tired, it was a wild ride, and blue was her refuge, all through this, her mentor, her pristine love.

Today, growing through all these colours and with them, she lies, envisioning the hues, that will colourise her life so unfathomably in the future, that these constant companions, white of her upbringing and red of her heart might fade into a crystalline rainbow, but blue was, is and shall be with her forever.

Amnesia 

21 Sunday May 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amnesia, amour, Art, death, dream, intoxicated, longing, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, mysticism, optimism, poetry, Quote, sensual, soul, sufi, Thought, writing

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​


They come from an ever resounding hollow,

The memories with voices.

It echoes my words, like a self talk;

Were you a dream?

I lived in that hazy daze.

Your gaze is affixed on my screen,

Your words stifled mid air, thoughts which you suppressed;

Did you love too much?

You, who were always afraid of it;

Broken shards of shuddering heart, it’s windswept fragrance emanates,

From a time within me that’s still,

Still, in the ephemeral mos we spent.

Too less.

Too less.

Longing is useless,

For a daunting you.

There are voices and odours about me, you present yourself in unexpected places;

I travel again, revive with those remnants which you bestowed,

To keep me entranced.

My flesh was enough , but I gave away more.

Now that farewell is in order;

Amnesia has its own delights.

Strikes and streams

22 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, innocence, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, mysticism, optimism, poet, poetry, Quote, Thought, writing

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​I lied for you.

You lied for her.

I still miss the palm 

Which though held me ,held in frivolity.

Frigidity ungratified, losing of lust in reticent thrusts.

The giver dug a vacuum in her.

Which he couldn’t satiate,

The wood was carved, dented with blame.

All force awry.

All passion fade.

The end but says,

No one was laid.

Telepathic Amoretti

03 Monday Apr 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, intoxicated, love, Love poetry, modern, mysticism, poet, poetry, Quote, sensual, soul, sufi, Thought, writing

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​

You are a fascination, a mystery

My desire; an inevitability

I am always there feeling you, watching you.

Your thoughts are mine.

 To be true, bodies are just an illusion; our soul is one.

I am your soulmate.

Your twin flame.

I permeate it all melting inside you.

Love is a but a word.

You’re my magic, my mystic, my gypsy, my wild woman, I deserve you.

You deserve me.

Our spirits dance together, in spiritual ecstasy.

And it will come true.

One day…

When our bodies in this world may meet.

And suffuse.

To create bliss.

Transcending, all blues.

Eros’s Thanatos

29 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, poetry, Quote, sensual, soul, Thought, writing

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​

Cheering for the beginning of end.

Loud and waspy; silent auction of feelings felt.

Anachronistically of words uttered in yore.

Prescience destroyed in arms of tyrannical Moors.

Findings found, myriad sources.

The missive reached and hit the core.

Burning and melting eternally; the sighing fumes furnished in faces.

Bracing the flow to grace in your light again.

Burning and melting. Kindled again.

Enflamed within, the heat of hot corporeal flames.

Ardent claims by carnal tombs; I burn and melt into You.

Love’s a tricky game.

Diaspora

24 Friday Mar 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, poetry, Quote, soul, Thought, writing

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Promises that were once to be, were broken upon a quivering leaf
Unsheathed the lover, awakened in turmoil

Upon the beloved’s kisses sleeps.

Rescind the bond; the solitary longings.

Brimmed visionaries, slumber keeps.


The past does not exist

We keep existing

Novel 

Every day

Capture it in moments

To lay down

The future for posterity

Pictures and videos

Posts and calls

We save it all.

To resuscitate the past.

For wars were fought, for loves were lost; For fear ensconced

For meaning,

In the meaningless.

For the existentialist angst and the upcoming explanation.

We summon the past our alibi that lasts;

Again withdrawn in that self subsuming cocoon, again wishing to break free?

How to resuscitate through this ?

What a wonderful spree!

No one knows,

Of that fragrant thorny rose,

Whose spikes are still intact.

No lover gave his beloved one of those;

Still it smells so sweet.

Benighted Blues

09 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, poetry, sensual, Thought, writing

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​

The vision of end, searching containers,

Told me of a death deeper than the one I fantasized;

Amongst jubilant life this cessation brought, memories of life;

Death cannot kill the deceased.

Departed at the sight of alternative love.

Ridic Flavours

05 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by candidcolumn in amour, Art, loss, love, Love poetry, modern, poetry, sensual, soul, Thought, writing

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​

We all have to fathom distances to know who we are, until we reach where we began

Clasped by fear. Jotted within the soul !

Shackles of Lust atrocious, the strife; Keys of Love, emancipated…for life 

Walking on broken columns; the shadow of loves lost hinder the way, 

Asking to be established among the ruins.

The world abuzz with the employed these eyes keep searching you; all alight !

With intense amour, forgiveness is a flair Of the censurable

Their smiles are the smiles, of beloveds; of a lovers’ love, unrequited;

Their words begin to falter, at their darlings’ names.

Their love is not visible; It’s deeply ingrained.

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