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How I write, is mine…How you read, is yours

~ Most of us feel it, some don't. Some of us say it, some don't. Some may agree, some won't. Be as it may, the facts still remain.

Tag Archives: Manifestation

Corrosive Action

24 Saturday Jul 2010

Posted by Kavita in Poetry

≈ 64 Comments

Tags

Betrayal, Blame game, Bottled disgust, Envy, Fiction, Friend or Foe?, Imagination, Jealousy, Just another story, Mad rage, Madness, Manifestation, Results of envy, UDPS, Undead Poets Society

What once was your voice that sounded so gentle
Now feels like the rattling of a million bones
Our picture that once proudly adorned the mantle
Now lies in disarray, mutilated with stones

You are a fiend. You betrayed me!

What once used to be a song for you of praise
Now spews out of my mouth like some putrid bile
Your smile that once gave my hopes a raise
Now sits as an open slash, and to me appears vile

You are cruel. You deserve this!

What used to once flow like a stream of love
Now spurts from my red vein, as green blood
My heart that once soared like a peaceful dove
Now flails, chokes and drowns in envy’s flood

You broke my heart. You slayed my emotions!

How once on a flowery path with you I walked
Now a blanket of thorns over it is thrown
Where once, we unfurled our souls and talked
Alas.. now the seeds of distrust are sown

It was all my fault. Only I am to blame…

Manifestation – Yes? No? Maybe?

19 Wednesday May 2010

Posted by Kavita in Poetry

≈ 66 Comments

Tags

Dream, Fear, Imagination, Inhibition, Manifestation, Nightmare, Shadows, Terrible, Thought, Threat

I see a bird
An enormous, frightening bird of prey
Perched on the sharp edge of a rock
Its focused, beady eyes looking down
The large talons clutching something…
Something trembling
I see a hand

The bird swiftly dips its head
Digs a pointed beak
Into the skin on the hand
Blood gushes from this new wound
There are many such wounds
The hand’s now pale
It belongs to a body still alive…

The bird is looking for more
The hand suddenly moves
Blood dripping from fingertips
Like water off a rag wrung hard
The hand attempts to reach someplace
To the face…

I can almost see the face now…
Yes, I see it
It’s mine!
But how can I be there, dying,
When I am here, alive?
Or am I?

Is it only a mirror?
But it’s all in rusty sepia
Is it an image?
Is it a movie with my face in it?
Maybe it’s a nightmare I’ll snap out of soon…
Or is it?

I still see the bird…
Its eyes, its beak, its bloody talons
Only, it’s not a bird anymore
It’s a person
A gaunt wretch
My hand is no longer bleeding
But trembling nevertheless

Then I vanish
Where did I go?
The man begins to laugh…
A shrill, satanic laugh
He walks to his pet, the bird
Strokes it gently with his wiry hands
He lets out another horrific laugh

I still don’t see me
Where am I?
Am I lost?
Or in the shadows?
Am I hiding behind the skeleton of the tree?
Or beneath that threadbare rag?
Maybe it was a dream after all…

Or… was it??

LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!

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