tavishikumar

[tavishikumar]

hug me

Mark Rothko, No.6 (Violet, Green and Red), 1951 Cool cool uber coolUber cool uber cool coldCold cold hardHard hard breakBreak break forgottenForgotten forgotten lostLost lost foundFound found heldHeld held warmWarm warm hotHot hot throwThrow throw awayAway away afarAfar afar aloofAloof aloof appearAppear appear cool

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Interstices

Your Beautiful Eyes by Suren Manvelyan I like it here, in the interstices.It is to here that I made this long journey, from longing to resignation to acceptance.Contrary to popular belief it is quite spacious a space — an entire edifice made up of clay.I have learnt to create ‘nothing’.It took me some time and effort, though.I can teach you if you’d fancy.You can have your very own ‘nothing’.You…

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My Papa

I took the absence of my Dad And, held it in my hands.I observed its sharp edgesFelt its heavy solid of sadIts permanent make of lossIts eternal black of muteIts gaping hole of void Its besiege by death Its breach in breath A snap of life –A dire-disconnect.I saw it blinding meWith pure painTranscending my alive eyesInto Reality…..Of the dead.I held it close to my chest – this separation –I held…

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Snow or Shine

Sublime sweetness of a Castor-sugar-snowscape; Like sift of a soft storm. The chill of the sun perks up The nudity of the terrain –Painfully aroused – Painfully alone.A thousand pricks of nip Punctures it numb; In the stark of stillGlides a ghost of glumBleary eyes of a Morning – heavy with haze; Empty of happy, It heaves its face. But look here, Mumma!A Depression in timeProceeding footsteps…

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I am so happy that I can die

The length of longing ends here Long – short – shorter – shortest – there – here – now – this moment. I am a point in time – Not Your time or My time But Time – The Sea of Time in which we all are swimming – sun moon stars you and me – all of us. The ‘I’ of my Am is sinking now. ‘Am’ is all that there is – ‘I’ has sunk. The sea of time is all ‘Am’ – Am’s of all the I’s Am is: In the Being Am is:…

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Ode to a Jeera Cookie

Ode to a Jeera Cookie

I ate a cookie  Baked by no rookie As Big as a carrom’s Queen As Fluffy as a Queen can come As neat as one can mean. Decked in pale gold of  Well-basked wheat; It loosely held together  – by light of salt and heavy of butter – A crumble of absolute complete. Covered in open cracks of welcome, It was bold-rimmed and elegantly obese: Easy and obliging to every bite – A Perfect partner…

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Ode to a stupid girl

Hey hiDid I tell you thatWhen I look at youMy world becomes spongy softLike light-pink chhenaSwimming-soaked in elaichi milk? I can breathe wellSmile widelyHug tightlyListen genuinelyTalk – with tears in my eyes, coherently I become like a well-foldedWhite omeletteHolding, in a kind cuddleThe warm veggies and melted cheeseOf sincere sharing I feel aliveMore soI love youYou know that,…

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((Ta)mtu)

Nautilus, John Keeling, printed on Ilford Fine Art Archival Paper, 1991. ________My baby has old man’s hair Like the speckled plumage of The splendid snowy owl –Wise, solitary and territorial.He has deep-set, hypnotic Eyes,Like a rich russet cloak,Profound with the Pricks and perforations ofLife’s million stitches.My baby is soft-hearted & sure-footed & keen-witted,A breakfast-eater of fruits,…

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Dead Dad Dreams

The shutters of my eyes were closing their shopThe Sleep Inspector had come with a baton He was breaking my body into pieces and strewing it into the river of a dreamLike ashes of dead are strewn – Goodbye, my widowed reality!Don’t pretend to mourn my loss;You were never real to begin with. I was holding myself tight through the throwing.Deep sea terrain of my dreamscapeWas opening before my…

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तुम्हारी हँसी

कैस्केडिंग लैवेंडर चित्रकारी: एरिन हैनसेन, 2013. कैस्केडिंग लैवेंडर (कैनवास पर तेल) तुम्हारी मूछ के तकिए के नीचे जो हँसी छिपी रहती है ना,वो मुझे बड़ा सताती है; जब भी तुम्हें देखती हूं,तो शर्मा जाती है,आधी – मुड़ी सी,दिखती – ढकती हुई,जैसे कोंपलो पर पड़ी ताज़ा ओस की बूंदें –निर्मल ~ और जब ना देखूं,तो बहुत याद आती है,जैसे सूरजमुखी को सूरज याद आता हैबहता हुआ –अविरल ~ आँखें बंद कर जब याद का…

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Waiting At The Door Artist: S.Elayaraja (1979-2021) Oil painting on canvas. (via Quora.com)

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by Andrea Tummons

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Montenegro by Appolinary Kalashnikova

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Polar Bear by Pep Prats

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An explosion of colors | doeeme

Location: Talalpsee, Filzbach, Switzerland

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@mareis.photos

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Anna Paola Guerra