aphroditenow

I am nobody who are u r u nobody too

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  • aphroditenow 2d

    Partings

    The day time could part us,
    I had stolen a bit of you.
    I died too.
    The day when the sun would creep in
    And your face would melt
    Dripping down from my memory,
    You would lose the battle to oblivion.

    We die twice.
    Nature loves us that way....
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 3w

    Stories you read seeking peace nowadays, once used to be my fantasy: an untamable fantasy running through my mind. The fantasy was to hide you between the lines of my poem; the fantasy was to place you beyond the grasp of the thieving time and keep you safe within me; the fantasy was to guard you with my armour of words and love you under the guise of metaphors; the fantasy was to touch the core of your impalpable soul, collect the splinters of your broken self and start giving them the shape of my heart. Why my heart? Oh dear, the next time when you would lose your heart to some other shimmering evening, it would be my heart that would run barefoot looking for you frantically. When every morning, your heart would wake up to get through the busy day, it would be my heart to weather away bit by bit and yours would return home ever tranquil, always whole-hearted. Every time when you would feed upon the piles of papers with the half of your heart, my heart would beat to take care of the other half that was getting trampled yet tried hard not to give up. My fantasy used to burn with fearful passion when the dark fear of getting reduced to an old memory only to be cherished leisurely on the last days of December, would tickle down tainting that enlightened space where you had always resided.

    Stories you read nowadays are the remains of those helplessly naive fantasies. That fear turned out to be hopelessly real. Now, I am a real story gathering dust at the corner of your bookshelf and everyday work. But, my love, do you know I breathe still, clinging to the last drop of vitality? I may be dead to this world, may be closer to heaven or hell now, but I know, my life is forever alive through the stories you read and the heart beating in you...
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 3w

    I used to wonder why everyone writes about love whenever they start writing poems until I met you. Now everytime a unique thought rushes to me and I want to lock it in pages and ink, I find myself losing it to everyone, losing the colours among blacks and whites. I know my poems do not rise above the commonness, above the anonymity. But do you know they will never rise above my love for you? So I am writing you the just another poem of love saying in the same old way how much I want you. My sky would remain same blue no matter how many stars I adorn it with; I may be just a drop in the ocean; I may never rise above everyone; I may become another everyone to you still I will love you with a helpless hope : what if you ever look for me among everyone, what if anyday you start seeing me among every other faces?
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 4w

    Dear,
    Tarot cards flip
    Striking our soulmate sparks
    And shooting stars burn bright with fire
    Named love....
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 4w

    #weather
    #wod
    #pod
    My heartfelt thanks to WN... @writersnetwork

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    Monologue of a Malice

    Have you ever felt the calm
    After the storm?
    I have been the wrath of Zeus,
    The strength of Thor,
    The impalpable beating of the heart,
    The fearful, the ruthless war,
    The harbinger of the sinister.
    I have been known to be invincible,
    Weathering hardest of rocks,
    Breaking the ribs of fire,
    Blinding eyes with dust.
    Now I have known
    You have always reared pain.
    You have sowed the energy of demons within me.
    I reaped it forgetting
    I had too possessed an angelic vitality.
    It is buried deep within me.
    I rip the fiery wings,
    Yes I do that with pride,
    Or how would you feel the ember
    And its dauntless soul?
    Life still flickers in the burnt-out coal.
    Don't you need me the way you need
    The warmth, the air and the water?
    I know you do.
    Next time when you would run for life
    Fearing and cursing me,
    You should remember:
    Whenever the sun would drip down from the edge of your sky,
    Tickling down like molten wax,
    Dying on the concrete,
    You would need me to brighten up that overcast sky;
    You would need me to heal;
    You would need me to jump over the precipice of chaos.
    You would need me to remind you
    You have always been the glint of light yourself...
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 5w

    Sunday love

    I wake up with him smiling over me,
    Gleefully adding extra milk and sugar to the coffee.
    His face, the mellow sun of the December morning,
    Or a sunflower field,
    Lulls me to sleep,
    Lures me with a cozy dream.
    I snuggle with my blanket a bit.
    The dial hanging on my empty wall,
    Stops warning,
    Strikes magic,
    Loses few more circles than usual
    And regrets not.
    The dial wants to take a break and celebrate.
    He is always worth the wait.

    I walk a few steps with him,
    Or dance together to vinyl records,
    And let languor usurp every inch.
    My breath escapes into air.
    He spills poetry into my ear.
    He speaks of falling in love with stranger
    As I recline to finish knitting five tales.
    He tastes like cherries, childhood and chocolate cakes.
    Hours are trapped into an irrevocable cycle.
    There is only moving forward.
    We stumble and start gleaning again
    The splinters of light.
    And carve out again a hollow in my head
    To make room for another five tales.
    He vanishes again,
    Only the vestiges of love lingers.

    The poet in the pages writes a complaint.
    We carry the world too much with us,
    We care and worry too much,
    We stare not and count the stars.
    Perhaps, that is the life we love.
    Another week starts again,
    But with sweet pause,
    Smelling of him.
    As always....
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 9w

    My unguarded dreams and you

    A shooting star had crossed the sky
    The moment our eyes met,
    And I knew at once
    With you I would want to travel back in time.
    I knew we would want to start all over again,
    Only together this time,
    Move towards the shores of old age.
    I knew my fingers would stack tightly in between the gaps of your fingers,
    We would be living our unfulfilled dreams,
    Only together this time.
    I knew you would take me back to the start
    When we used to love with unpolished heart,
    Spill uncouth rhymes in our poems.
    Find beauty everywhere,
    Wonder about the centre of the earth.
    I would again run through the meadows,
    Chasing wind, catching the fireflies.
    Only this time you would be by my side.
    I knew together we would be glints underneath sea,
    Drowning in mellow lights,
    Far from the surface,
    Deep into the core.
    We would fix our blinding eyes.
    I knew you would be my home,
    Guarding my lost wishes,
    Feeding my hiraeth.
    Will you not pour the crimson love from your naked heart once again to give warmth to the cold homeless?
    We be together and this world would be a better place.....

    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 10w

    #silence #wod #pod
    Thank you WN

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    Symphony

    I love words.
    I love words the way the storm loves its welcoming silence,
    The way the peace loves the dance of fury.
    They are complementary.
    I love the sounds too,
    The sound each word makes in my head.
    I love when raindrops splatter on my window panes,
    When drops plop one by one from the tap into the kitchen sink,
    When my mother clatters the coffee spoon in the mug unheeding,
    When the dried leaves rustle in the autumn air,
    When the breeze whips the sunflowers
    And whooshes through my lips, fingers, hair.
    I love when the waves crash against the rocks
    Or when the river whirls down the slope.
    There is a life in these sounds,
    Filled with so much vigor and vibrance.
    Sounds bring my words to life,
    And thus glints my love.
    I love sounds
    But I own the absence of sounds.
    I own the words without their sounds,
    I own the uncouth soul of words.
    I own the silence.
    When the sounds slowly creeps into silence,
    Subtly diffusing into the distance,
    I see a peace usher in.
    A frightening peace rattles,
    A maddening silence screams.
    The peace is draped with red.
    I have seen it thousand times
    Walking hand in hand with silence,
    Chasing the trails of cacophony and erasing it,
    Vivifying the presence of sounds.
    Silence spills love into my ears.
    I wake up to love sounds again....
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 10w

    জানিস,
    আজ সন্ধ্যেবেলায় হঠাৎ করে তোকে দেখলাম।
    অঙ্কের খাতাটা থেকে মাথা তুলতেই দেখি তুই দাঁড়িয়ে,
    সদাহাস্যময়।
    তোর এলোমেলো চুল,
    আঙুলের ফাঁকে আধ পোড়া সিগারেট,
    আর হাতে একটা কফিমাগ।
    হেসে বললি: অঙ্কের খাতা না কবিতা?
    সেদিন মেলেনি
    অঙ্কটা ।
    আমি গিয়ে বসলাম তোর পাশে।
    জানিস,
    যেদিন জানলাম তোর প্রিয় রঙ লাল,
    সেদিন থেকেই তুই আমার লাল সাদা শাড়ির ভাঁজে থাকিস।
    দেখি তুই রাত জেগে গল্প লিখিস
    আর শব্দের ফাঁকে আমার আনাগোনা।
    জানিস,
    আমার কবিতার পরতে পরতে তোর গন্ধ পাই।
    স্পষ্ট বুঝি তুই ছুঁয়ে থাকিস আমায়,
    ঠিক যেন পশ্চিম আকাশে পড়ন্ত বিকেলের আলো,
    নিশ্ছিদ্র, নিরবচ্ছিন্ন।
    তবু কেন আগলে রাখতে গেলে
    পাতার আড়ালে লুকিয়ে পড়িস?
    জানতে ইচ্ছে হয়
    তুইও কি দুপুরে আনমনে আমার কথা ভাবিস?
    তুইও কি তোর অভ্যাসে আমায় রাখিস?
    তোর গ্ৰামোফোনের নেশা ধরানো সুরে,
    বইতে ভরা তোর আলমারিতে,
    তোর কাজের পাহাড়ে,
    তোর ব্যস্ততায়,
    তোর রবিবারের আলসেমিতে,
    তুইও কি আমায় ভালোবাসিস প্রতিদিন?
    ©aphroditenow

  • aphroditenow 12w

    Today I dig you up again

    Do you know I used to steal glance?
    When you would be busy flipping pages in library,
    Or when you would lose yourself in the rain outside,
    And when sweat would drip down your throat
    At the end of the football match.
    Do you know I used to glow in red
    When you would write poems
    Praising her smiles and rosy cheeks?
    Could you smell my charred soul?
    Do you know I had shed a tear of relief,
    When I found out she was your little niece
    And then smiled at my stupidity in my sleep?
    Do you know I fell into the habit of daily morning walk
    To greet you 'good morning's in the park?
    Do you know you were the first one
    To send butterflies in my tummy,
    To make me act clumsily around you,
    To distract my attention from the maths class
    And make me fall for Neruda,
    To make me choose my wedding dress from a fashion magazine,
    That too at an age of sixteen?
    I wish I knew then what I know now:
    You were my first love,
    My first taste of dreamy romance,
    Very raw,
    Very naive,
    Very uncouth,
    A silly madness,
    Touched by the magic of teenage.
    Now I know:
    You were not an ephemeral roller-coaster rush,
    Never meant to fade away like last night's dream.
    You were my first love
    Who I could never renounce,
    For you have got seeped into my deepest core,
    Underneath several layers of past.
    And when I would dig you up again,
    You would smell of a fairytale...
    ©aphroditenow