This Animal is Back

This poem is about the wild animal in me, who’s attracted to another “animal” – the rage mixed with pain and sensuality mixed with deep & raw side. Have you never felt like this animal?

Don’t walk like this in your silky skin infront of me
Incredible
My craving for you is crawling up a mountain frenzy
Irresistible
You’re looking red hot & my eyes are burning destiny
Inflammable

Gaining your trust while I throw you with my rawness on that turf
Animal
Messing with your mind & body while I pull your messy hair
Animal
Tearing your peace in pieces while I look deep into your big eyes
Animal

Whispering my twisted words in your ears to reach your red crystal
Sensitive
Sketching on you with my sharp nails to make you whisper pain with your deep vocals
Sensual
Shaking you intensely to awaken your senses to make a connection with your crying soul
Spiritual

Biting your tender flesh slowly to calm my hunger with my hungry teeth
Oh, I feel like an animal
My lips are sticky & shaded as I taste the thick red that you’re bleeding
I think, I’m an animal
Even the wind under dark heavens of hell is howling crazy
Yeah, I’m an animal

I see you in my mirror & my lens is bleeding red visuals
Ahh, I’m so bloodthirsty animal
I see you in my shadow & I look like that fiery dragon
Wo, I’m so scary animal
I see you shattered & scattered all over my dark ground
Rahh, I’m so brutal animal
I disappear in darkness after killing your dying soul to be one with the new you & eternity
Yeah, I am that tainted & untamed animal

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Notes: Haiku – seasonal transformation (1). Myths of the mirror (2) In the dark, a rose #poem (3)

© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.

Photo credits: The beautiful picture of moon is taken by my dear friend, Nitish Jain. I’ve added some layers & filters to make it scream my poem.

Healing my Hell

This poem is about how mindless I can be from time to time & how the mindful approach helps me in calming myself down. How stars can spread the glitters over the darkness. I have written a variety of poems about suffering. rehabilitation and recovery.

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Warmzone

It’s like when things become difficult from time to time, when I burn extra energy to focus on simple things, whether it’s fixing, cooking, carrying a tray or cycling, the mood crazily shifts & swings – feeling of frustration & anger pops up. Because it’s still difficult to accept a few things, even though it’s my new reality. It doesn’t mean it would be easier to go with the flow without struggling. It doesn’t mean either things aren’t moving. I’ll keep on fighting & pushing my limits as that’s the only way.

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Complicating the Simplicity

This poem is about how we all have tendency to complicate simple things and then we are entangled with the complexities of the simple matters in reality. How we underrate the unknown energies and sometimes only look at the meaningless theories, without the proper knowing.

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Drop-dead

Things might be happening at a slower pace. I might not be the horse of some derby race. It might even seem, I’m standing very still, I could be taking 2 forward & 1 backward step. Learning the old things in a harder & newer way, knowing the newer things in a cooler way. I’m quite certain, I moving every moment steadily.

Zipping my lips softly after sipping my warm cup of coffee
Closing my eyes gently to feel the different energies in my body
Smelling the scents mindfully to find the right sense of spirituality

Following my instinct while I walk on my ground with thoughts bare naked
Surrendering to the surroundings full of doubtful dots & weakened bridges
Letting myself to let loose different shades on the surface of delicate red petals & thorny edges

Everything changes instantly into this beautiful universe from the perforated form of my pinching topshelf
The ripples in my tubular vessel start dancing when I cast the stone while I slide sideways
The vibrations of this vibrant reality is multiplied when I see these pictures from the sound of my heart beat

I keep on rising up to raise my bars to unlock myself from my inner locked cage
I fall freely on the heavy grounds, as if I’m trapped inside those tiny droplets
I feel like a raindrop, that gives life when it bursts & dissolves in the ground, it’s simply drop-dead

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© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.

Shades

It’s about the shades – dark, blue & many more, moods, crazy phases, protecting, balancing, reconnecting & resetting.

I’m tired of staying inside my broken & dark shed
So I decide to come out, to see the light & feel the heat
To walk outside, to see the blue sky – the outer space
But I’m not used to leave my shed, perhaps I’m a bit afraid

The fire in my eyes is intense enough to burn things into ashes
So I pick up from the table my pair of shades
Don’t misunderstand me, I didn’t say pair of spades
Coz I’m not here to play any tricky games

I just want to exhale coz I’m feeling suffocated
So I’m gathering my energy to pave a newer way
It’s just not a dream to heal myself when I walk on these unknown lanes
I need to regain my balance & to reconnect my veins

But I won’t loose my shades while I’m exploring these different places
I’m protecting others, I’m not wearing for the sake of UV rays
To keep them at a safe distance from my burning eyes per se
I’m not in a mood to show my eyes & share my deeper pain

Now I’m back again after roaming around, to my broken & dark shed
To rest my naked eyes & I don’t need my pair of shades
You see, it’s a different way to learn & sway
And tranquilize me when my heart bleeds & aches

It’s now past peak hours, where I’m testing myself with my scars insane
Every moment teaches me how to straighten up the bends, I’m taking baby steps
To come out of my crazy phase by loosing this crazy face
To reset all to the pointy edge, where everything once began & one day it’ll surely end

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© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.

Healing the Spirits

It’s about picking my pieces up & put them together as that’s the only right choice I have.

You see, I can be so brutal
I’m that crazy & wild intruder
Who enters in my own skin, to produce thoughts
Which makes me crazier & protrude gun
To kill the unwanted & exclude dust
To single out heart to protect pure love
To raise the strong shield to bulletprooof my temple

My top shelf is already wounded & it hurts
Now this epilepsy tag has stuck for atleast 10 years on my t-shirt
Medicines are supposed to help but side effects are feeding like those mean bugs
It’s so frustrating that I feel like ripping away my own turf
But I can’t be agitated coz it could raise the pressure of my blood
So I accept this curve as my new medical curse

I do believe in self healing, I believe in miracles
I promise, I’m gonna change all this, it’s inevitable
I need to focus & remain calm, carving a new composer
I will fall several times but I will rise up
It’s my battle where I will bleed but I won’t give up
It’s not about the victory, it’s about breaking my patterns

Beast mode is on, to keep my beats & spirits up
Everything must heal within oneself, one just needs to believe in ONE
Every single being is connected to each other in this beautiful universe
I hear change is the only constant, so is the true love
It’s a different perspective, it’s highly spiritual

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© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.

Quarrel

The small dark spots in my head have inspired me to write this poem right away. These spots will last forever & I need to accept it. The form has changed & I must live my rest of life with this change. I’m working though to overhaul me to be the better version of myself.

These days I sit in silence
To avoid the quarrel
With those high sirens
To stop the violence
By not pointing the cold barrel
At my hot head to reduce the noise level

The imprint of my top shelf
Appears so dark from the shooting range
If you look closer, it’s in deep pain
My ground is covered with hot bullet shells
Ready to scream & layer my screen with thick red
The whole of me has uncountable dark spots, which make me spit lead

What have I become?
Why do I feel so frustrated?
Why is it still difficult to accept my new reality?
Why is my gun always loaded & pointing at me?
Why the feeling of pushing trigger to balance things?
Why am I wounded so badly?

Working hard to change my patterns
Life is on stake & is actually threatened
At times my body & mind are so drained
Difficult to find peace in that piece of frame
The feeling to drown in deep ocean to clean my stains
To heal my soul that has been bleeding since ages

Yeah, I can change all this with a blink
I’ve been working on this but sometimes patterns do stink
Building the physical & mental strength of my outer & inner skin
Trying to quit the quarrel & healing every particle of me
I’m burning in flames every single moment on this sacred journey
To form the new me from my ashes, the true being

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© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.

Related poem: Spinal con-fusion: a poem by a survivor (1)

Firing Shots

Another not feel good poem because that’s my present state of mind. I can’t drink alcohol due to epilepsy, which is perhaps a good thing. I want to simply forget everything by being drunk, even though it’s running away. Don’t we sometimes need to run from ourselves?

I’m firing shots at my brain
Planning to play the refrain
The need to repeat to regain
The need to change the savage to a sage
The need to restrain the rage from my brain
To stop my mind to be insane
Coz I don’t want to end up on the operative scene

The sudden desire to find some strong alcohol
To drink & dance away the pain on some new melodies & some old
To kill the kill spot from the top zone
To block the worry from the contacts to make it unknown
To loose myself completely by being not so cold
It’s dragging me down to this deep & dark hole
But it’s not possible to drink coz I’m stuck with taking this crazy epilepsy dose

The thoughts I need to picture
The theme I sketch, looks like a clipart
The things I tell myself to make it visual
I need to make biggger changes to redesign & to restructure
I need to heal the inner space to build this stable fixture
I might burn a bit of me from the sparks through friction
But I must do it anyway, coz life ain’t no fiction

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© 2020 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.