Poems and Reveries

daisy chains on summer days

A poem by Anshudha Garimella I’m in love with daisy chains on summer days little daisies float on my lemonade Just like a citrus breeze summer does not stay But the taste of oranges is the ambrosial nectar of an amber sunset The crushed strawberries and cherries rest at the bottom of my summer wine…

Poem-Sea, Sun and Freedom

It’s just If I could sit on the beach and watch the day turn to nightMaybe everything will be alrightIf I could spend an eternity listening to the crashing wavesMaybe I could drown out the noiseAnd if I could sail the ocean till the ends of the earthMaybe I would forget all that, that hurtsMaybe…

Reveries #3: Cottagecore Escape

This following reverie is inspired by the cottagecore aesthetic. Take a trip through your mind to the idyllic cottages standing in the midst of spring. Note: Imagine yourself as the ‘I’ in the story. I’ve been here for just a moment, but I feel at home. There is a quaint and beautiful cottage that sits…

Reveries #2 : The Cabin in the Woods

Note: Imagine yourself as the I in the story. #2.The Cabin in the Woods I always enjoyed fairy-tales, not for the happy ever after, or the prince, but for the enchanting aesthetic of nature, castles, the friendship those princesses had with creatures of the woods, the birds, the deer etc. The best part of a…

Reveries #1 : The Gothic Library

This is a series of posts I’m starting. Reveries I welcome you to come with me to atmospheric imaginative adventures. To escape, To visualize, To read and to relax or just to experience something different. I hope they interest you and I hope you enjoy reading them. Thank You. My only suggestion is to Imagine…

The Artists and The Rain

Oh! How I would like the stars, the lovers of passion, the creators of artI sit and I read the words of the poets and the writers who never found happinessThose miserable men with disenchanted wives, those promising women competing with each other all their livesI think of those men who find happiness in a…

Poem- The Photograph

Why am I enamoured with the past? Even though I always think of the future The past in objects, pictures, melodies and words Fly through my imagination like birds It’s strange that I find myself so enchanted with eras gone by And it’s a shame that I have not been able to let go my…

Siesta

My heart breaks a little bit everydayDisintegrating into more and more piecesThe weather is fine and so am IThen sun still shines and people smile sometimesThe moon is in the right placeThe emptiness is full of mystery in spaceYet my heart sheds a tearI always think of my fearThere is a revolution in the morningA…

Life came back in waves of music

By Anshudha Garimella There was a girl that lived in a sleeping forest. She had beautiful brown hair and delicate skin, she often wore white and she had the kind of eyes that you know have been through pain.The kind of eyes that cried every drop of rain.But she was very good at concealing her…

I’m sleeping at the heartbreak hotel….

Poem I’ve been living at the heartbreak hotel for a while nowGoing from room to roomBed to bedIt’s the same hotel but not the same placeIt’s the same mood but not the same spaceI’ve been living at the heartbreak hotelTaking down the drapes to see the same cloudsStill hovering above my headAs I lay alone…

I Never Forget Anything- Poem

I never forget anything I never forget a thingAnd that’s what broke meI never forgot a thingI thought time would take care of memoriesBut It didn’tSo I filled my head with lyrics and melodiesI filled my mind up to the brimWith rhymes and wordsUntil it started overflowing with poems of my own I never forgot…

Sleepless Nights

Days and days of insomniaThey come and go like the cloudsI’ve tried to stop my mind but it’s a universe of its own kindI think and I think about days gone byDays to comeI think of the present too but only as a result of the past or an impression of the futureCounting sheep is…

Poem- White Blank Page

I write because there is no better listenerThan a blank pageIt takes in and understands the thingsEven I don’tIt carries the unrelated wordsTurns them into stream of consciousnessIt does nothing more than creaseFlipping memories and pain with easeAt my whimIt leaks stains of tears and inkAnd when I’m done with itIt will only existIf I…

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