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Manaswi Patil Poem
I tried to reach out, blink in silence and say my words, but there is a lost syllable and a forgiven diction. I buried my art, my passion.
I tried to tear my skin apart, carve in silence and swim in the blood, but there is a broken knife and a tired hand. I buried my sorrow, my passion.
i tried to hold your hand, glimpse in your heart and kiss it close, but there is a fragile door and the locks made of dead petals. i buried my love, my passion.
"I went back to the grave, holding your favourite lilies. I dig slowly beside you and reach the metal clank. I loved you passionately and obsessively.
The box handle creaks and opens, a canvas with dried blood stains, a half fractured knife and the unsent letters.
a lady walks up to me, handcuffs me back and requests that i slowly move away from the evidence and let go".
I buried your body, my passion.
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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Manaswi Patil Poem
this sunday morning,
there were lesser chirps,
faded rays
and muffled words.
the refrigerator still reads,
"happy anniversary",
with a photograph of us.
the same date,
the same face,
the same love,
but a different year.
there were music bands,
there were long drives
to abandoned lands.
the kitchen fights,
the second pizza bites,
the mended heart
and then the collapse.
did you burn our Polaroid,
the way you flared us?
this sunday morning,
there were lesser chirps,
faded rays
and muffled words.
i lie down
on the kitchen floor,
holding his letter,
looking at the ashes,
tiny pieces
that are left of us.
"It was 12am and my google calendar pinged, Happy Anniversary. I was half drunk and almost raged. I destroyed the journal with your poems in it, only to realise our Polaroid was burning too.
I woke up and I found your letter in the mail".
piles of
all the letters
i could never send.
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Manaswi Patil Poem
to see me,
is to remember you.
to touch me,
is to feel you.
to forget me,
is to let you go.
you live within me
and to lose you
is to lose me.
the way we looked at eachother,
the flashes of whites and grey,
the hours unnoticed,
the rains that we missed,
the poems that were sung,
and the love that was lost.
words that held me,
the distance that broke me,
silences that spoke to me,
the memories that howled at me,
with moonlight shadows,
a dancing star to remind me,
you are my north star.
is that why i could never reach you?
you taught me east and west,
months of advices,
and hours of lessons,
and we still managed-
to go south ways.
a guided route,
a bright future,
an anchor to myself,
a symbol for us.
you were so many things
but never mine.
you adored everyone
but never my heart.
you left so many places,
but forgot to exit my soul.
you live within me,
i shine the brightest
on darker days.
is that why i see darkness everywhere?
because the only light to exist
is me.
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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Manaswi Patil Poem
// i cannot write happy syllables anymore
the need to create a change
is fuelling literature in the insides
of my naive skin
i collect unwritten prompts
from dearth to abundance
surviving to healing
criticising to normalising yet
the same broken heart
yearning to be seen
yearning to be heard
a happy memory
turns into a sad paradox
a form of love
turns into a crushing sonnet
a piece of me
turns into a fragmented verse
i want to write about
the things that matter to me
but everytime i hold a pen
i cannot help but bleed ink
and this is how you
will remember me
a compilation of laughs
an independent self conscious poet
who cannot help but bleed
who cannot help but seek
seek for dead warmth
poetry was never about lying
never about fantasies
or love
poetry has always been
an amalgamation of defaced truths
underlying words
and urged screams
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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Manaswi Patil Poem
i picked up
your fainted
heart ; like a
dead petal.
never had i seen
personification so
beautifully designed-
you screamed
privilege and ran away
with twelve paper sheets
and one deceased heart.
if i knew
this is the
taste of words,
i would have
smirked at my
naive self,
broken me to bits,
abandoned me
and trusted me.
if only i knew
this is the
taste of words,
i would have never
turned to love.
if i describe you
even the hunch
of the feelings
i feel,
you will ask for more-
more words ;
more hurt.
but if you believe
even a portion of
my poems,
you will ask for less-
less words ;
less hurt.
i picked up
your fainted
heart,
like a metaphor-
drugged with
painkillers.
you were
my shooting star ;
falling void less
over the orbit,
but i sailed away.
if i knew
this is the
taste of words,
i would have
stayed,
let you desrtuct
around me,
just to make rhymes
on a love story,
a love story of
cowards.
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Manaswi Patil Poem
why art?
for destruction.
why me?
for desolation.
you fell for my art
and you dissolved.
i warned you,
i was more than
just a poet
rambling on words.
i am a shooting star
who can burn
but never be a wish.
i was meant to stay,
to shine,
at the exact same place
for millions of years.
but that's the thing
about me,
you tell me to shine
i will dim myself.
you tell me to stay
i will run away.
you tell me to love
and i will destroy.
i am a sinking ship
who can drown
but never uplift.
i wanted to cross
oceans ;
to move souls
with words or my heart.
but i dug holes
in the bottom myself.
i handed out the lifeboats,
whispered in everyone's ears,
"sail away while you still can".
i am falling
void less over the orbit
i am sinking
word less in the sea
while i watch you
cowardly sailing away.
- mana :)
Copyright © Manaswi Patil | Year Posted 2021
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