Satiety Poems

Until it's you

Until it's you 
Didn't realise that I was enclosed 
In the frigidity caused by kin
The sorrow engulfed me 
Not the soul but the inlet of ardour 
Which made me in a cold sweat 
To air my passion 
Just not for you but for feelings
It made me feel like a sinister 
For none, for having a gab 
With you I have no boundaries.

Until it's you 
I have no companions 
Not of support but of satiety 
Didn't realise I apologized 
Constantly even not being a part of it
A small hat tip is never enough 
For the convo of simple words 
Which makes me feel serene 
The radiance you hold
Even while concealing not 
Just face but my refuge.

A Reflection on That Time I Let My Husband Cut My Hair

He said he’d watched a tutorial.
He said symmetry was a myth
fueled by Big Geometry.

I laughed. That was my first mistake.

My second was passing him the scissors
without asking him about his dominant hand.
(It was vibes. His hand was vibes.)

Snip.

He called it edgy. I called it
accidentally spiritual—
because seeing your own scalp
before coffee
is a kind of awakening.

He apologized by making pancakes
in the shape of angels.
I joked, You know these look like ghosts.
He replied so sincerely, I don’t see it. 

And that was the moment I knew: 
this is who I chose. The kind of man 
who conflates confidence with capability, 
specters with satiety, and bad haircuts 
with love. 

I could have done worse.

That bald spot grew over,
like a lot of mistakes—
as if nothing had happened.
But when I hear the snip-snapping
of blades testing the air, I still flinch. 
Just a little.

Which is to say, I’m older now,
but still not immune to vanity, 
or apology, or pancakes, 
especially when they’re fueled
by good intentions.

The Nature of It

There’s a lash implanted in deep
Bound to the nature that drives me
It’s not the scourge itself that stings the most,
it’s the knowledge of why the flicks fall

Knowing the satiety of extinct flesh
Knowing the saccharinity of bygone honor:
The honor of being the only exception
And knowing the omnipresent void they leave behind
Now I only know hunger

There’s martyrdom in surrendering to the abject draw of the scourge
There’s Christ-like pain in adoration beyond station and beyond forethought
I’ve been marred, somehow without death and without cure
Left to live a life afflicted by the idea there’s more I’ll never be

I know the loss more familiarly than the lash
So, when the taste of loss still lingers on my lips,
you have to understand the nature of it

Destiny, the final milestone

My sizzling heart failing around the clock
No light colliding with the dark to spark
But essence dying passively through the dim
Dream's wall burning by the fire of terror
In a second, a sharp arrow infiltrates the soul
And silently overflowing blood around its artery.
Nothing emerged than an insane time,
Everything not set as materialised
There are volatile inheritance bloodstreams
Follows to end up with a quiet destination. 
What a life ushers for nought...
No, no satiety to purify the lure in life. 
Look at the moon shaded by a cloud
A hard rocky cloud
Cosmos horizon...
Never has it appeared over the sky
Even ancient times have yet to happen.
A silent mourning overthrows the time 
A path continues to the graveyard
And I found a frosted body lying 
cuddled with dreams. 
A scamp life left behind the snag...
A presence of fervent destiny, a final milestone!

Childlike Love

Mercy dragged fate around our alley,
a path taken before, failed, but who cares ?
two lucky losers,
who determined the ending,
in the precipice of nothing.

you and I were children in the world,
non-existent in love stories,
to keep you crouched, easier for me
unaffected by the flow of  gossip.


Satiety in you
Time never promised,
my being enjoyed you even in sleep.
But,
the lack of luck remained loyal to my body,
 every step in the path of growth,
kept me away ,
you weren’t a need .


The interval between your creature and mine was losing power,
we become  too grand for the world,
 they all talked about us
 never once mentioned  love.

 to  be achieved in life, I wouldn't say,
we will stay young with experience , forever.

the alleys never joined ,
steeply they passed,
without punctuation.
created spirals of abstract colors,
that burst from time to time,
when my eye caught your  eye through the alleys of the city.

The Way I See the World

The world is beautiful but vengeful,
 The world consists of the living and nonliving,
The world consists of the good and the bad,  
The world creates and destroys,
The world is beautiful,

The world is beautiful,
Because of the nature, the countries and the people,
But one wrong move,
One big mistake,
Like,
Massive deforestation, soil pollution and littering
Will make the world angry,
That it will turn on self destruction mode, 
Creating tsunamis, tornadoes, and earthquakes,

It's not the world's fault,
As it gives back what it gets,
If we give the world love,
Flowers will bloom, raindrops will dance,
Arroyos will feel satiety , people will live in peace,

The world is full of kindness,
People with compassion and love,
The world is full of guidance,
Even in the darkest nights, The brightest moonlight will guide us,
The world is full of energy,
As we get most of the food from sunlight,

The world is full of beauty,
Breathtaking mountains , magnificent waterfalls and amazing jungles,
Albeit,
don't let the beauty fool you,
As the world is beautiful but vengeful.
 
                
                          - Sri Danya

Tackling Our Frailty

Fearing that our diversity may doom society.
We have worn out our discolored disguise.

Mental doodles have a limit in their entirety.
Leaving behind a youthful dream and surprise.

My work has been tainted by society.
Placing screens in front of trusting eyes.

Creative content requires time and satiety.
Hearing evil howling and looking for a prize.

I'm powerless, waiting for such a deity. 
Miracles of modest nature need to arise.

Persists throughout daily anxiety.
Descriptive accounts that debated the size. 

Written: December 2nd, 2022

She: An Emotion

She, as an emotion
Of all my states of mind
Comes out, when I talk to her, or,
when I feel her more than a good friend 

She, as an emotion
Of all my stress and strain
Haunts me every now and then,
When I know that I am not in her brain.

She, as an emotion
Of all my motions of life
Runs parallely on the way I run,
When I break down somewhere in life.

She, as an emotion
Of all my disturbed thoughts
Disturbs me from to think ahead,
When I don't listen her voice or notes.

She, as an emotion 
Of all my joys and mighty
Pops into my hearts completely,
When I take her in as my ever affable satiety

Psycho

trapped in the category of basic feelings, attesting to the functional regularity of the average human and demonstrating the crystal-clear predictability of their secular behavior, hatred, love, envy and jealousy consolidated practically all the advance and retreat of a race that eternally gravitates around its own navel, growing at the limit of the satisfaction of instincts and collapsing to the exact extent and at the time when it judges itself full and satiated, ignoring or comfortably avoiding understanding that both transcendence and evolution require the uprising of satiety, since this in everything resembles resignation and cowardice.

Metaphorical Poem

I build myself
poet, in the lightning
of sun that leaves
from the sky,
in the dance of
belly of the moon
between clouds
unstable...
I deconstruct myself
poet, in the smell
of death of
deep dagger
tearing
life...
in satiety
vampire in
tip of the syringe...
in the riotous river
who runs me
inside when
I am without
canoe...!

The Forgotten Love of Edward S Brown

Sitting around the corner of a lake,
He loosened the torpid arms,
Making way for the sun to immerse
Glorious and crimson,
The death of youth.
All numb and unmoved they remain,
With occasional spasm 
Indicating unknown trepidation
For a rather obscure love,
Or something else;
As it cannot be remembered,
Memories obviously break,
Skills fall apart, 
No certainty therefore appears,
In choosing a position;
Of satiety or grief,
For it is not known at all,
And to know is difficult,
Erratic vacillation to breakdown,
Or fear of ludicrous proportions.

30th March, 2021

When Money Becomes Your God

A prayer is like seduction to your soul
Your church is the glamour the world bestowals
Your bible is the flashy neon lights and billboards
Your truth is the multiplicity of greedy
Your salvation is fruition of materialism
Your retribution is its finitude and lost satiety
Heaven becomes invisible through the eye of a needle

Burdens of the Heart

The hate that uglifies a sweet face
The betrayal that makes trust fade 
The enmity that isolates 
The sadism that inflicts hate
The envy that breeds futile hostilities
The grudges that darkens memories
The jealousy that erodes satiety
The ill-will rewarded with vanity
The long distances, weights and heights
Don't weigh us down like the burdens of the heart

Quietly Sleeping Embers

Quietly Sleeping Embers

the materials of timeless elements
that once laid deep within the earth,
as sleeping embers in a quiet fire,
or the thumping of rocks, their throaty shouts,

attracted to the source, protean, 
the standard of all things apocryphally edged,
eyes in search of themselves, flashing
visions in search of hallucinations, sighing.

lateral unitities scrape the tattered and
the buttressed scaffolds in dimension,
as a formican stave appears sage-like, alone
at it’s cusp, pointing towards inevitability. 

our hands are lined with our history, concealed,
our hearts deeply gouged, bleed coloradan stain,
whimper as they will, feeble outcomes fail
the test, it’s standards not presently contained.

the harbinger of listless souls, tearless
and gut-wrenched, gesticulating, wordless,
those materials, that source of satiety trembles,
those quietly sleeping embers, light even the world.

Love Redefined For My Valentine

From the tunnel of time,
flow meanings uncounted,
From shelves piled with hymns and prose,
music, painting and acts,
legendary expression are awakened.

An array of indisputable offers in stores,
to guide a gesture to be refreshed
with a token, small or grand;
Offers come at fake discounts.

Reasons will line;
To please the beloved,
To sustain a custom,
Or still,  to retain an attention,
Or still,. to save a relation.

Irrelevant to me, as I stand in oblivion.

My heart rises above teachings and codes.
For my love, not been mine,
taught me love redefined.
Giving evidence of my feelings knows
no such alleys which may demand
my love to be reciprocated.

Every sunrise and every sunset is for him.
Every freshly blooming flowers stands
as proof of the everlasting beauty of my love. 
A love beyond physical satiety that resides
in sense or sensations.

My soul will one day walk out
of the garden of life into the absolute
ahead of time frame and social norms
To be united to him.

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