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

MY PHONE

 

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It’s ringing

again and again

to coordinate

with the time.

 

The cords

have connected

the right connection

after a while.

 

Its thin body

has flexible touch

often takes me

into the long

conversations.

 

What if, this

thin and tiny

tool escapes

from my life!

 

I would want

to have a taste

of golden era

with lots of

pride.

 

I admired and envied

this thin object

which can access

my experiences

with the names

on it.

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


Thin



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

Stop and Stare

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Stop and stare

At the mirror

Is it the same reflection

when you were guilty?

 

The guilt raised the voice,

“I am not guilty

Of the old sin

Cemented with heavy bricks

Of the cold war.”

 

Stop and stare

At the water

Is it as blue as

When you first dipped

Your hands into the colour?

 

The water filled with despair

Singing the old song

Waving in the rhythm

To show the denial

Of the discolouration.

 

Stop and stare

At the eccentric world

Are they as epic as

The centric ones.

 

Running from the limelight

To cool down

The guilt inside

Craving to be candid

With the leisures of life!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


Personal photo taken by me in Mumbai, staring and imagning the world around!

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

 

Loss and Profit

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What is Loss?

If the loss is

changeable

according to

situations!

The loss is

To be bankrupt

To be jobless

To be guilty

To be forgotten

Or the loss is losing

Your loved ones

In the fight of

Life and death.

 

What is Profit?

Wining a lottery

Lakhs in account

To be beautiful

Luxuries around.

Or the profit is

Having the dear

Ones around

Giving affection

And strength.

 

Loss and Profit

Depend on each other

To compliment the equation

For a luminescent outcome

In the reality of life

To give the luminescent

Mixture in the limelight.

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


via Daily Prompt: Luminescent

Luminescent


PHOTO BY PEXELS

Poetry to Micropoetry

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Poetry to Micropoetry

“my veins are still

flooded with light

to purify the blood

to pump the words

to flow in a rhythm

to dance with the functioning

of my body

so that the content

should fall in place

giving life to the verses

of my spine.”

 

O! my Micro poetry

you have the essence

of the contemporary

society.

But the ink is fighting

to decide the genre

in a decade 

as the literary world 

denies your existence 

in the world of expression

thinking it’s too micro 

to rejuvenate the rhythm

of the pages of life.

 

Nevertheless, every form of art 

is idiosyncratic in its own

why to collate each other

why not to lionise and fete 

your arrival as the bride 

of the handsome groom

on the red carpet!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


via Daily Prompt: Micro

Micro


PHOTO BY PEXELS

Hiding behind the chaos!

 

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Hiding behind the chaos

To create a pattern

Of the life 

What is pleasure

In the limelight

If the freedom 

Is not right?

 

Hiding behind the chaos

To portray the new being

Fresh and new

Attracting the bees 

With honey 

To forget the misdeeds

Done with fruitful hands

It was just a pleasure

Of the life.

 

Hiding behind the chaos

To respire the freshness

Of the green world

What if I am toxic

From inside

Still having the designation

In the intellectual world

Halfwits in the background

To trip over the stones 

Created to justify 

The reasons!

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


PHOTO BY PEXELS

 

In the dreams

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In the dreams

She saw this faceless being

Stunning and sympathetic

Tendering his resignation

Of the wedding bells

In the light of darkness

Of the first sight.

 

In the dreams

She saw this faceless being

Dusky and charismatic

Doting on her

Till the last breath of the spring

In the presence of sunshine

Of the first rendezvous.

 

Sad is the time

When she could not

Recognise this faceless being

The years of attention

Fail to carve his figure

Even on the sand of time

O! my stranger…….

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


via Daily Prompt: Faceless

Faceless


PHOTO BY PEXELS

First meeting!

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I was in a foreign land

In a bloomy weather

Without expectations

In a causal state.

“You are cute”,

Was the remark

To score the marks

Of the day.

The innocence was foreign

To the dark side

Hidden in the corner

Of his mind.

The lofty ideals

Were also foreign

To the pretended deals

Of the first time.

Then he said,

“It’s always the first time

So the foreigns things 

Will soon be aware

Of our familiarity!”

 

Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar


via Daily Prompt: Foreign

Foreign


PHOTO BY PEXELS