Condolence

एक इज़तिरार सी है आज,
जैसे किसी इनायत का सुकून
अपना नूर खो बैठा हो।
आज लहज़ो से रूहानियत लापता है,
एक सिफ़र है इनायत में।
सहर में एक नवाज़िश,
एक लिहाज़ है,
जैसे बदस्तूर बेसब्र हो,
एक खोया आफताब।
सिद्दत से ताबीर करते हुए
आज सारे कागज़ ख्वाबिदा है,
मुन्तज़िर जैसे,
मुख़्तलिफ़ दास्तां लिखने का
इंतज़ार हो।

•• Aa’eedah

© Cereus Florus. 2018.


This is my first Urdu poem and I don’t have the right and required skills to translate it into English.


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Butterfly- A Haiku & Ramblings- 2

Haiku-

Broken branches hide
Wild, fearless, fluttering wings-
Once butterfly’s home.


Ramblings- 2

Huh, so again is she going to let her mind spill it out all over here?
Well, yes! Though I have no idea of what I intend to throw at you, I would like to continue with this post. Why? Because I need to, before my mind succumbs to contemplation and things like that!

Waking up every morning with absolutely no idea of what the hell is going on in life is like wandering around the corner of the road at midnight, all alone. I go through this midnight-ish (yeah!) nightmare every morning, like seriously every morning! I attend my classes half heartedly and constantly, one of my eyes gazes at my wrist watch. C.O.N.S.T.A.N.T.L.Y. I rush back to my home and go to sleep, almost instantly. Then I sleep and sleep and, some more sleep. Sigh!

Now, here’s the thing!
Why on Earth does every poor being send a shiver down my spine? Why do I need to sympathise with each and every broke story around me? I have stopped seeing faces a long ago, I see only frowns.. Delhi has a lot of them.

My words might fail to provide a thread here, between my intentional lack of concern and their destinied sufferings (they say it that way), but how do I get through this? Everything pains me, aches me as if I am a part of it.. as in you’re Mother Teresa, huh! And, and that makes me so sad that I end up doing nothing, not even my regular chores. Now, that’s too much for a twenty year old!

Irrational. Erratic. Insensitive. I am searching for a way out. Or, may be a way in. God speed!

Also, I owe my peace of mind to WordPress. Just for this moment, I meant.

•• Aa’eedah

© Cereus Florus. 2018.


Promise

Yet again, I’d like to share a poem penned down by my partner.


Promise-

Every. Single. Night.

I close my eyes
and remember your serene face,
your soft touch
and your sweet scent.

They make me ecstatic,
they make me lose lucidity,
they make me feel like a person again.

The memories,
I cherish them today,
and I’ll cherish them till
my last breath.

All I want is to make
many more such memories,
never thinking about anything else.

Being together,
is all I crave,
and this is a promise from me to you,
I shall make it true

Every. Single. Day.

© Cereus Florus. 2018.


Vote for Universe Fireflie

Here’s a beautifully penned poem by my sister Hurain, which recently got published. Please (puh-lees, as she says) rate her poem, her talent deserves a big shout out!

Here’s the link-

Rate the poem “Queer Little Thingy”


Here’s her poem “Queer Little Thingy” that got published:

A foolish little girl wished for a “queer little tingy”

She turned up her nose against all the fancies and the nannies

Because determination flared like an unflinching gaze in her eyes

And so, in the middle of the night, she tinkered on her clever scheme with her tongue tipped ever so slightly to the corner

On the night of December the third

She stole into a big fat ship with her big fat ego

To haul a big fat anchor into a big fat sky

“it gripped a poor innocent star,” whispered wild campers in the middle of the night

“and the little predator climbed for her little prey”

This “stubborn ass” persisted hour after hour as she climbed with her bruised hand and heart

But alas! how could anyone see it coming?

When the first ray of sunlight hit the earth

the queer little thingy turned out to be a snake as it shed its skin into the sky

and she plunged into the ocean with a flailing hand and heart

So heavy hung the ferocity of betrayal and remorse

that when she fell

she ripped a hole into the ocean

and lost herself in its hurricane.

Universe Fireflie


on the lure of dark literature…

Ripped into my soul and fed on my heart!

ESP rambles...

With the platitude elegantly established, we will attempt to address the question in the first line which must feel misplaced in the paragraph. We might modify the question, now that it feels happy to be back in focus and therefore amenable to changes, and ask what is the happiness that people drive from reading dark literature. For, if reading the material is not making them feel good then they wont belong to the club of averages. If that was true, there would only be a few lovers of the dark writings. Tragedies over the ages have held a greater veneration than any comedy or writing of the type that justifies why we should be thankful for the gods, for mankind, for our existence. Contemporary literature is mostly dystopian, it reeks of suffering of the individual, a pain that one must live with in every moment and breath. A darkness pervades…

View original post 542 more words

Lament

As he likes to be anonymous, as I cannot plagiarize his work, here’s another poem I am sharing on his behalf. He wrote this last night.

Read more of his works –

My Muse

Breakthrough (A collaboration)


Lament-

That’s when you start to cry,

You turn to your left and you cry

So much so that your left nostril gets blocked.

You turn to your right and you cry,

So much so that your right nostril gets blocked.

You cry and you cry,

You cry until you can’t breathe anymore.

You cry until you start getting violent hiccups.

You cry even until breathing from your mouth becomes infeasible

You cry and you cry.

Maybe that’s what destiny has planned for you all along.

© Cereus Florus. 2018.


Dimmed

A Lanturne-

Dark
Gloomy
Thursday nights,
Poet’s fierce heart
Dimmed.


Thursdays have always been cruel! This unholy and sick day brings decaying cursed memories back to life, week after week. Neither nostalgia nor experiences, only shitty stories of a wild past upon which my otherwise dead brain feeds like a nymphomaniac! Darn it!

People have a greater tendency to fuck your mind in the worst of your moments and times, and you (and I) sit frozen there, with legs open, wide. No, there’s no logic to it, it’s just that we’re innocent motherfuckers, a sheer waste of existence littered on the holy surface of Mother Earth! Emotional, vulnerable, (apparently) mannered. We reflect the hypocrisy of our society in a way so delicate that even our naive shadows refuse to dream. A burden on the planet, a burden on ourselves we are!

Revelations serve as a treat to the opportunists, to suck out your trust, beliefs, faith and what not. Even the innate temperament and dispositions get altered. Holy Lord! I refuse to yell out anger over issues of my own concern, I reject the best of opportunities to fly, I refuse to fall in love with the man whose name resonates within; I just fucking refuse and reject to fit in your “perceptions and POVs” like a stateless river, and two of you fight to devour life out of me. Fuck you, existence!

I am nowhere. I don’t exist in a world so sane. I refuse to share my insanity with you. You can’t see me. You will never devour me again. This is the only way I choose to escape. The only sane way to escape.

•• Aa’eedah

© Cereus Florus. 2018.