Submissions by duseja_shweta
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Pouring my heart and mind on the paper is what I do. The act of writing, in turn, liberates the confined self.
Lifelessness
When you wish to talk
And there is no one around,
Or when there are people
You love, and they alienate you,
It is lifelessness,
Useless existence,
Unhappy solitude,
Loneliness beyond
Endurance.
And there is no one around,
Or when there are people
You love, and they alienate you,
It is lifelessness,
Useless existence,
Unhappy solitude,
Loneliness beyond
Endurance.
582 reads
0 Comments
Death of love
At the door
Of our little
Home
At 1:30 am
After a month
And a half
I saw
Your face
And
Was
Aroused.
The
Next
Moment
I was
All over
You.
Licking, kissing
Touching, feeling
The presence
That was
Absent
For an
Epoch now.
And you
After first
Two minutes
Shooed me away
With the
Burden of files.
The rant
Of the
Boss,
A constant
Reminder:
You are a
Machine,
A robot.
Behave
Like one.
Of our little
Home
At 1:30 am
After a month
And a half
I saw
Your face
And
Was
Aroused.
The
Next
Moment
I was
All over
You.
Licking, kissing
Touching, feeling
The presence
That was
Absent
For an
Epoch now.
And you
After first
Two minutes
Shooed me away
With the
Burden of files.
The rant
Of the
Boss,
A constant
Reminder:
You are a
Machine,
A robot.
Behave
Like one.
757 reads
5 Comments
A Struggling Artist
Let me put some powder,
Oh no! Some concealer first.
A little primer,
Tiny bit of mousse,
Some moisturiser too.
Now the canvas is ready
In just an hour.
Starting with the eyes,
Some deep blue shadow,
Merged with fiery red,
A little black or grey.
No? Too dull?
Yeah. Add shimmer
And gloss to dazzle.
Let these lips be luscious
And temptingly kissable.
Why not some red with
Tickling electric pink
And some shine,
Or Should I leave it matte?
Ah, what pleasure in painting
An art form everyday.
...
Oh no! Some concealer first.
A little primer,
Tiny bit of mousse,
Some moisturiser too.
Now the canvas is ready
In just an hour.
Starting with the eyes,
Some deep blue shadow,
Merged with fiery red,
A little black or grey.
No? Too dull?
Yeah. Add shimmer
And gloss to dazzle.
Let these lips be luscious
And temptingly kissable.
Why not some red with
Tickling electric pink
And some shine,
Or Should I leave it matte?
Ah, what pleasure in painting
An art form everyday.
...
626 reads
2 Comments
Perfect/Imperfect
Smokey monsters in the air,
They occupy the minutest space,
They sit on the plate beside your food,
They hang themselves on your wet towel,
They want to take that night gown off,
They want you to glitter your best,
They want you to shine perfectly.
The perfection once wished for
Seems like an abominable thought.
To be imperfect is so much more peaceful.
These imposing monsters claim perfection.
But this, will they ever get?
Imposition breeds rebellion.
They are their own defeat.
They occupy the minutest space,
They sit on the plate beside your food,
They hang themselves on your wet towel,
They want to take that night gown off,
They want you to glitter your best,
They want you to shine perfectly.
The perfection once wished for
Seems like an abominable thought.
To be imperfect is so much more peaceful.
These imposing monsters claim perfection.
But this, will they ever get?
Imposition breeds rebellion.
They are their own defeat.
597 reads
1 Comment
From Normal to Abnormal
She was an abnormal girl. For she cannot take anybody’s shit. She reverts back. Anger is what makes her do that. You see for a girl to abuse or to scream or to logically reason things out isn’t normal. It is either the domain of men or that of those old-retard aunties.
These aunties, mind you, are normal because they can scream, scold, taunt a young girl they bring to their home for their sons. However, they will also become abnormal if they do the same to their husbands. This makes one particular aunty sad and therefore she hurls more anger on the little girls thinking that she can...
These aunties, mind you, are normal because they can scream, scold, taunt a young girl they bring to their home for their sons. However, they will also become abnormal if they do the same to their husbands. This makes one particular aunty sad and therefore she hurls more anger on the little girls thinking that she can...
796 reads
1 Comment
The Price of a New Identity
She laboured the entire week for there was hope of recreation and rejuvenation. She worked her ass off because she knew that the weekend was just across the corner. Sunday gave the respite of the tree’s shade to the tired traveller on a hot summer day. Sunday was that bliss that a child feels in her mother’s lap. Sunday felt like the first rains after the sweaty plight.
With the change of name, the meaning of every single thing in her life acquired a new meaning. Acquiring would perhaps be the wrong verb here. It was imposition of a subtler kind. Yes, new meanings were imposed...
With the change of name, the meaning of every single thing in her life acquired a new meaning. Acquiring would perhaps be the wrong verb here. It was imposition of a subtler kind. Yes, new meanings were imposed...
670 reads
0 Comments
Eyes
Eyes are the soul of one's being.
The tongue may lie but the eyes don't.
Millions of stories are captured by the
Camera of these eyes.
Millions of narratives are told every
Moment through this photographic screen.
Your truths, your lies, Your love,
Your hatred, your fear, your despair
All are locked in these mirrors.
Locked, however, to be read,
To be reflected to your lover.
The tongue may lie but the eyes don't.
Millions of stories are captured by the
Camera of these eyes.
Millions of narratives are told every
Moment through this photographic screen.
Your truths, your lies, Your love,
Your hatred, your fear, your despair
All are locked in these mirrors.
Locked, however, to be read,
To be reflected to your lover.
791 reads
4 Comments
Me and My Man
Me and My Man
A carnivalesque world
Full of lovers like us.
A passionate Prince Charming
With an aura of thrill and romance,
You my dearest have occupied
My Dreams ever since
I entered the world.
I am dying to be one with you
To devour you with my love
To melt away in your passion
Where we no longer are two bodies.
We are flowing into each other's being.
A carnivalesque world
Full of lovers like us.
A passionate Prince Charming
With an aura of thrill and romance,
You my dearest have occupied
My Dreams ever since
I entered the world.
I am dying to be one with you
To devour you with my love
To melt away in your passion
Where we no longer are two bodies.
We are flowing into each other's being.
655 reads
3 Comments
Several Shades of Me!
With a white hair band on a lovely pink dress,
Fairy-like ballerinas with a bow and satin lace,
Strawberry flavoured lollipop in hand,
Comfortably sitting on Grandpa's lap.
Neatly dressed in school uniform
And golden-rimmed spectacles
With a heavy satchel on the shoulders
And Milton water bottle
Running towards the gate
Because of the fear of getting late.
Spectacles replaced by lenses,
Silver earrings with cotton saree,
Now an attendance register
Instead of the lollipop in hand.
Grandpa’s adorable child,
A super...
Fairy-like ballerinas with a bow and satin lace,
Strawberry flavoured lollipop in hand,
Comfortably sitting on Grandpa's lap.
Neatly dressed in school uniform
And golden-rimmed spectacles
With a heavy satchel on the shoulders
And Milton water bottle
Running towards the gate
Because of the fear of getting late.
Spectacles replaced by lenses,
Silver earrings with cotton saree,
Now an attendance register
Instead of the lollipop in hand.
Grandpa’s adorable child,
A super...
798 reads
3 Comments
That's Love!
When I saw the moon last night,
It showed me your eyes gazing at it.
When I touched the flowers,
They smelled of your loving fragrance.
The dew drops on the lotus leaf
Showed your image in my eyes.
It showed me your eyes gazing at it.
When I touched the flowers,
They smelled of your loving fragrance.
The dew drops on the lotus leaf
Showed your image in my eyes.
733 reads
5 Comments
Life of a Pen
I am a pen of my soul,
I too have ears but no hands,
Sometimes the body moves me,
I think in two directions at times,
When the soul and the body disagree,
I am at war with myself.
When they decide to mutually consent,
My life i at rest.
But at rest my purpose fails;
My ink fades.
Life in conflict makes me worth it.
I too have ears but no hands,
Sometimes the body moves me,
I think in two directions at times,
When the soul and the body disagree,
I am at war with myself.
When they decide to mutually consent,
My life i at rest.
But at rest my purpose fails;
My ink fades.
Life in conflict makes me worth it.
750 reads
2 Comments
Feather
I am a feather tonight
Let the wind sway me,
Let it take me to heights,
Let me feel lighter tonight,
Let it show me heaven's light.
Let the wind sway me,
Let it take me to heights,
Let me feel lighter tonight,
Let it show me heaven's light.
719 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by duseja_shweta