#Octoberfalls 9. Cynefin

#Octoberfalls 9. Cynefin

Fresh filter coffee, first thing early in the day.

Push the curtains for the early light to stream in.

Push a random CD in; press play.

Stare at my fish tank, marvel at that tiny fin.

Pick up a book from the shelf

like I have nowhere to be

because I see myself in

my home; see?

Just another reason why we need

to buy a new book, indeed

today, tomorrow, every day.

Let’s head to the bookstore,

shall we? Yay!

I tried to rhyme. Really. I did.

And I’m actually quite please with my drawing. I wish I’d have made the grills a little (lot) thinner, and then planned it a bit more. Maybe I will do it again another day.

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#5. Sunday Coffee and Second Chances

It is 6 AM on a Sunday morning.

My eyes shot open and look at the clock.

Trying to go back to sleep is a lost cause.

I get up and rub my eyes with my fists,

giving myself bags, and pick up the book next to me

on my night stand.

I’d given up on it, last night,

but it was so beautiful.

Memories are a bane,

but I banish those thoughts aside

and heave myself off the bed,

to get myself some coffee

on an unnaturally bright and early

Sunday morning.

 

 

#28. Why want Leap Years

#28. Why want Leap Years

Every year,

I get to see you for

365.25 days.

But on leap years,

I get to see you

an extra, full day

and it’s the most cherished day

ever, in my life.

Sorry about this one.

And it’s a wrap!

We’ve partially successfully completed attempting the Spring Palette for The Heart, and we hope to see you soon again!

And I really hope to get better in writing poems. I’ve loved doing it but I know there’s immense scope for improvement. I can’t wait to find more prompts and attempt them, so until then, hang on!

#25. Unconscious doodles

#25. Unconscious doodles

Before, I hated drawing.

I despised artists; I thought art was a waste of time.

I mean, a “painting” wish some red streaks and splashes becomes famous?

For what, like those red streaks were somewhat very purposeful?

Phshhhhh. Puh’lease. Like it matters.

But now, I can’t stop my pencil from moving about.

From restaurant paper napkins to exam sheets,

everything was covered in hearts.

all kinds of hearts, filled, empty.

Coloured, patterned.

Ends touching.

Ends hollow.

It was all because of this one artist that I grew up with,

who taught me, unintentionally, that all people,

all hearts, collectively, individually

are pieces of art

when brought together, makes up the universe.

Something new.

This is the Spring Palette for the Heart, by Parvathi and Me.

 

 

#14. Smudged

My hands find her eyes from behind the big arm chair and close over them.

She doesn’t let go of the book she’s reading; instead I feel her smile and rolling her eyes.

I laugh and put my lips to her ear lobes, tenderly kissing and biting it. I move over to her forehead, without losing contact with her skin.

I release my hands over her eyes, kissing them, then moving to her nose, her cheeks.

I find her mouth, but i don’t kiss it. I move down, towards her exposed shoulder and neck and collar bone.

As soon as my lips touches her neck, she moans. I’m a goner.

She pulls me closer, and I have to move towards the front, which, frankly, is how i should’ve started in the first place.

I take her book out of her hand and toss it behind me. She protests a bit, but when i find her soft spot, I made sure all she thought about was me.

And this moment.

Something I kept imagining in class instead of listening. I wish I went at least halfway, but I like it here, like this.

This is the Spring Palette for the Heart, by Parvathi and Me.

 

#3. Eyes Light Up

#3. Eyes Light Up

I take the book from you

admiring the cover

and trying to figure out what gave you that

dreamy look on your face. 

I put it in the cart

when you try and reach for it.

“I’m buying it,” 

your eyebrows are all scrunched up,

and your cute little mouth is pursed in 

…annoyance? Anger? I can’t tell.

But it is adorable.

I take the book higher, out of your reach,

lean in close and say,

I’m buying this for you,”

You smile, 

like your soul is contented and happy.

Damn. 

If buying you a book will get me that

look on your face,

I’m ready to buy you a bookstore. 

This is probably the most cheesiest thing that I’ve written but I wanted to write! This is The Spring Palette for the Heart, by Me and Parvathi.

#18. White Washed Dreams

“Science is the best option for you!”

“You like biology? Medicine it is!”

“Computer science in engineering will fetch a job with an attractive salary and a beautiful girl!”

Little did they know,

that with each passing day,

the music stopped playing

and movements stopped. 

The paints stopped mixing,

and the canvases remained blank.

The ink in the pen

dried up

and so did the soul

inside. 

I am so conflicted with my future right now. I had to get it out. No one has forced me to study anything, but the expectations are little suffocating.