Be my love!

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Take me into your arms

Forget the world

Lean on my chest

To make a move

Of your own.

 

Take me into your soul

Inhale me inside

Love me as much as you can

Show the world, that I exist

In your own style.

 

Take me into your memory

To create the snapshots

To play with the words

Show the world, that I exist

Through your voice.

 

It’s me, your own poetry

Love and live with me

In the manuscripts

Give me any form but

Show the world, that I exist

Through you and only you.

 

Love me as much as you can,

I am your poetry!!!!!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar



Personal photo

Maturity

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Maturity is intense

To release the tensed

Coming with drawbacks

In a dose of love.

 

He said, “Maturity is key

to end the unwanted shouts,

trying to be real

along with the reflection

in the eyes.”

 

Is maturity ignorance

Is maturity leading to bluntness

Is maturity being self oriented

Or is it necessary to accept the self

Along with the others?

 

The Sun can be dangerous too

Causing premature ageing

The maturity can be dreadful too

Resulting into premature decisions.

 

Why to play with words

Whether you are happy with

Your maturity or not?

Is the question

Of the hour!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar



PHOTO BY PEXELS

HE AND I

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He said, “You have tantrums.”

I said, “ I have mood swings

to balance the equation

to turn on the situation.”

 

He said, “You are insane.”

I said, “I use my mind”

to react abnormally

to act abruptly.”

 

He said, “You are beautiful.”

I said, “I didn’t take a shower, today

to turn on your nerves

to meander along the world.”

 

I said, “You are womaniser.”

He said, “Cake is more delicious

With a blend of cream on it

to fulfil the desires

to arrange the order.”

 

He said again, “ You have tantrums.”

I just smiled and cocooned myself

In a fluffy attire

To erase his words

From the conscious mind!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


PHOTO BY PEXELS

Rapid fire round!

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He said,“ let’s play

rapid fire round

in a mystic way,

close your eyes

imagine the world

that shines up in the sky.”

 

She insisted on the fact

“ why to play this game?

when the glory is all set

to open the wings

of purity and divinity!”

 

Rapid is just merely

An intention of the mind

To start a game of requirement

The idea was to build

A trust of corner

In the beam of light.

 

Is it possible

Not to apply the conditions

Of the round

When the rapid

Was not your intention……!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


Rapid


Photo by Pexels

 

A cup of coffee

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Bubbles all around

In my cup of coffee

I first saw him

Sipping the coffee

My upper lip was covered

With froth of desire.

 

Bubbles disappear soon

As soon as I sipped my coffee

Scrolling the keys

Reading some random pages

To create the flow of feelings

With the foam of love

Along with the thirsty ideas.

 

Mood was to sip slowly

To hold on the mood gradually

The Beats in the café

Were catching the attention

To dwell on the swing

Of that rendezvous.

 

Coffee was about to finish

Still in the aura of first sip

On the layers of foam

With the froth of will.

 

Wanting more bubbles

In the flight of dreams

The sugary effect was caramelised

To have sweeter and brown memories

In the end of conversation.

 

Could boomerang on me

If given more attention!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


Photo by Pexels

In the kitchen!!

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That figure

Coming to my mind

Like the intervals of time

With some excuses

To cheat in the present

With the past hours.

 

Why to crib

For the sake of…

Was it like a cupcake!

With a strawberry touch

Soft and spongy

To water the lips

With the desire of.

 

The cords have been trashed

That figure is blurred now

With the passage of time

Still wondering in the moonlight

If I could have a glimpse,

I would have shown the courage

Inside the foolish fellow.

 

It sucks just temporarily

When the figure is no more a figure

It has become a dark spot

With some darker shades

Just to ruin you from outside.

 

Smelling the past

Was sometimes an easy attempt

To cook and fry the present

In a crispy way

With a mint flavour

To sauté some figures

In a fresh recipe of life.

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


PHOTO BY PEXELS

 

If I had known!

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If I had known that he had some plans up his sleeve, I would have surrendered long back with the storms inside.

 

If I had known, the storms had calmed long back to settle the words inside, knocking to burst out.

 

If I had known, the barriers kept would be the open gates to receive the warm welcome, blushing all the day with the charm.

 

If I had known that he had some tricks up his sleeve, I would have been a white pigeon with closed eyes, cooing all night to have a relaxed tomorrow.

 

But the present said,“ your blind eyes turned to be the milestone of future, giving the treasures along with the pleasures of the life.”

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


Sleeve


PHOTO BY PEXELS