Listen to your inner voice Sense the gut feeling The intuition It is the deepest and purest voice It is the voice of wisdom Try not to give attention to the voice of fear The voice of pain-body Turn down the volume of the mind Talking to you constantly Telling you what to and what not to do It will eat away the very essence of you Let it go and breathe freely Don’t let the anxiety control the flow of air Open the doors of higher sense perception Listen to the heart WYBIWYSIWYG What You Believe Is What You See Is What You Get Know yourself well Be your true friend Self-love is the key Don’t be afraid of falling There’s always a curled learning Even dark has light Connecting with silence is not being quiet Being vulnerable is not the weakness… …Was the conversation between I and mySelf
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You know I can’t rap But I want to make a wordwrap And add a pinch of cRap So it’d look kinda eWhack Do you get what you’re about to snack? No, I ain’t smoking no crack
I know this all sounds so bad You’re thinking wtf I am at Isn’t today’s rap sound something like that? There’re only 5 lines that you can count on one hand Playing those lines with auto-tuned voice is the new trend And then they focus on the flashy video to simply distract But it’s all just in their head if they think they got the swag
I’m just sitting on my couch & thinking about Where’s the depth & why am I listening to this sound? They’re missing the lyrics, the rhyming, the hook & the fluid flow I hear no bars & there aren’t no signs of sharp claws You see I don’t need to hit pause on their slow moving train Rewind & then playback, to catch what they just said They’re just mumbling, I don’t get why they say they can rap Pure hip-hop is real-raw, it has nothing to do with mumble-noise
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I’m sharing my very first spoken word, that I posted on 10th December 2020 on my WordPress blog. I don’t know why I’m doing so all of a sudden but there could be several reasons – from reminiscence to reflection.
The Edge is a poem about my struggles during that time. On 7th November 2019 I was hit by brain hemorrhage on the right side. Over 1 year had passed by but it was definitely not easy for me to fully accept, understand & live with this new reality. The feeling of broken & repaired at the same time. It just didn’t affect me alone but my surroundings as well, including the family. I could see this struggle on my inner screen as flow of images. So I decided to write those images in the form of this freestyle poetry. These words became so intense, at least in my head, that I felt like recording it in my voice. I didn’t know how to create spoken word back then. I didn’t bother searching it either coz I wanted to create this spoken word immediately, with whatever technical knowledge / tools I had. So I recorded my voice on my phone, created a Powerpoint presentation on my laptop, played the voice recording on it, timed the PP slides to sync with my voice & capture this all as a video through a free screen recorder software. I’m presenting the same original spoken word to you all.
Please put sound on…
I sit sharp on the edge of my bench in the dark with a hatchet in my hand to break open my senses & to claim that my pain in the veins is not vain but insane
But I get so mad & a bit sad when I spread metal scraps on myself coz then I bleed the beads so discreet on my crease to decrease the misery
So I feel quite shaky as if my skin is so thin like a leaf & it starts to burn instantly to create the debris that comes out from the heat of the seed
I’m torn at my core that I feel this need to ease & burn my peace into pieces on the street that’s filled with so many deep & some holes unseen
So I scream in infinity with my fluctuating beat coz I can’t simply breathe & it seems I’m the beast hinged to the scene of the shattered dream
I relapse on my screen coz this all feel so diseased when I see this degree of release & then I step explicitly into the bed of fire to become the deceased
But then I focus on to drop my sores with the source of my scope in this hope that one day I’ll for sure end this whole to simply blow everything to the pure
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I published my book on 7th November 2021 – exactly 2 years after the bleeding. It’s my second birth or perhaps the first real one.
This all started when I read a wonderful poem written by @kalpeshdesai.official on Instagram…the same day @taru.chaya (Taru’s WordPress blog) tagged me to the Instagram community prompt hosted by @no.to.plagiarism…I replied politely to Taru that I don’t normally participate in any kind of prompts…@no.to.plagiarism replied that they would love if I could make an exception…this line sat deep in me…I’ve always supported genuine writers, content creators & artists of several different kinds…and I care a lot about our community…be it on WordPress or on Instagram…so I decided to give this prompt a shot…I’m not good with prompts but here I am with my poem on Say No To Plagiarism…the main message is to support & protect our community…let’s do it together ✨
So you liked the lines I’ve just typed You enjoyed the rhythm & my unique style The different vibes that I experience day & night The communion between the dark & light You feel somewhere that you too wanna write
And now you’re sitting idle on this edge Cooking rotten schemes in your head You wanna elevate yourself without any depth Steal my story, ideas & concept Showcase them as if you’ve bled my lead
Don’t you dare remove original colour with your artificial dye Just don’t roll your dirty dice on this sacred space so white Do you think copy / paste with a few changes is alright? Just know one day karma will hit you in silence with speed of light Your conscience will reveal your real face that you tend to hide
You know you’re living your very own life It’s a blessing & it has its own pure shine The biggest theme is to see yourself directly in your own eyes So be true to yourself & learn slowly to stand upright One day your inner mirror will reflect your very own rhyme
Say no to plagiarism coz the writers put their heart & show you a glimpse of themselves through their own lines
(In this poem of mine, “I” could be YOU & “you” means the culprit)
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That nothing is everything when I sense this empty field with my closed eyes & when I sea it with the eyes opened
So often I’m calmly, mindfully, open heartedly surrounded by the surrendering & nurturing nature herbs of this supernatural Universe
Acceptance plays an important role in order to roll forward towards the highest order, which is unconditional love for myself & for the different reflections of me in the form of other human beings in my life that I see in the mirror of my I
High I am not at this or any other point of time where I type systematically the stereotyped lines that might act as the synthetic steroid to my ego muscle that proclaims that I’m the shine of the divine
The sign that I’m trying to light by switching the noise of high screams with the sensitive sound of sighs is to reveal that my ground could be the breathtaking landscape but it could also be the heartbreaking landslide
But to hide in the depths or the heights of the tides is not me & my type even when I can’t subside my pain side that I tend to subconsciously subscribe coz I’m not always able to be in oneness with nothingness
Needless to point this attention at the pointed needle which at times is ready to prick my demons stored in my cloud brain, that are kinda ready to devour every single vowel to break the meaningful words into meaningless carnage
The damage they cause in that coarse course is colossal that it’s close to irreparable but I still prepare myself by prepaying the cost of the vibrational effect from my different reflections by catching my own breath, which in reality is to reconnect with my senses to reset & dissolve my scene in the very present but perhaps it’s already too late coz I feel that I’m sitting with nothing but emptiness
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Please read this poem under the lighter shade I’ve added a bit of ginger to give it a slightly warmer taste Not pointing fingers at any particular person(s) at any stage Believe me even if I want to, I just really can’t Coz I don’t remember their handles or any names Coz they haven’t made any kinda impact on me in any way And I know every published anthology isn’t of quality bad I’m sharing some of my experiences in this crowded space You must’ve also experienced such scenarios on Instagram & a few on WordPress
– Follow for follow? You see I didn’t even know what “follow for follow” meant Why would I follow you if you followed me? Why should you follow me if I followed you? Do you like my writings? If not, then what’s the point? Is it for the sake of 1 extra point in your stats?
– I liked yours, now please read & like mine Excuse me, what do you mean? Hey, I am not mean But I didn’t force you to read & like my lines Let me draw a simple line I would hit like if I like what you write I would suggest you to do the same, alright?
– Read 10 pieces within 7 seconds & liked all of them Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Click Click Next Next Supersonic reading speed, right? Attention do you seek? Is this some “trend” that you want to be seen? Perhaps, it’s just me but sometimes I don’t get such scenes
– Followed for a few days & then unfollowed So your goal is to show the huge following you have And to pretend they follow you & you don’t follow them What’s the benefit? By faking your worth in this real world Are you in some number game?
– Are you interested in one of these dedicated groups – only like / like & comment? Huh? What? Come again? I don’t understand But we don’t even know each other Are these “oh yeah, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh yeah, don’t stop, oh yeahhhh” groups of another kind? By that I mean ego boosters
– Promote it on @xyz” & “DM@xyz Seriously? Damn…spam…oh man…again (not singing Wham’s song)
– We are giving you this opportunity to be a published author. Grab the chance to be a part of our anthology. Here are some other benefits. Our fee is… Interested? How wonderful, I’m the chosen one Right? Wrong! Ok, but let me give a try to simply try something different I have now understood the benefits of such projects The compiler’s name would be on the cover The compiler might change a few bits of writings without asking or informing the writer The publication house would print the manuscript filled with typos, misalignment, bad quality images etc. The quality of the book would be questionable This book would never hit the international market The publisher has hired an inexperienced team Perhaps earning quick money was the real theme
Are we playing the number game?
To order my poetry book – Lightning Rhymes, please click here
Imagine we’re going another level Flying high as I drive the bevel To go deep into the sacred tunnel No boundaries & no manners Where your peaks start to tremble That rhythm & those tremors The earth seems to crumble And the skies start to rumble When the stage turns into the jungle As I crank you humble
To order my poetry book – Lightning Rhymes, please click here
Navin's Poetry 
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