The Poetry Marathon

Gentle eyes and carefree smiles

My Grandma

Toothless sweets and oily treats

My Grandma

Cotton sarees draped lovingly

My Grandma

Swinging and singing lullabies

My Grandma

A sickly smile dimming her eyes

My Grandma

Frail bony fingers clasping my hands

My Grandma

Slipping to sleep and draped in white

My Grandma

Tired

Aching to the bone

Strained eyes

White lies

Frozen knuckles

Stretched muscles

Exhaustion, an old friend

Cloaking in warmth

Washing my pain

My farce, my fancy

Hugs of deep seated sighs

Smiles of tender consolation

Speaking a familiar tongue

Of failed successes

And successful failures

Limping and dangling

Wasted and jangling

Clinking coins of fate

And destiny, all efforts in vain

Washed in the cool sprinkles of rain

My fatigue seeping from my bones

Broken spirits skipping like stones

Gliding on water, swishing fast

The wind of resolution

Braving unto the last

Recalled to life

My memory, my spirits

Gay and smiling

Picking the last bits

Hotness

Scorching hotness

A spark coming to life

To consume and ravage and spurn

Tongues of fiery glee

Shooting blood and crimson

Glowing orange and yellow

Burning, burning, burning

Sweltering and sweaty

Sticky and slapping

Skin against skin

Rubbing, massaging and squeezing

Itching and stenching

Of creeping naked limbs

And musky breasts

Of old discarded socks

And cool frooti drinks

Bathed in water

Swimming in sweat

Drip-drop, drip-drop

Little droplets collecting in pools

And flowing in streams

Steady and stinking and stale

And then a cool juicy plant

Leaves all turgid and watery

Glossy and green and soft

Cooling refreshing

Flakes and shards of ice

Piercing and plunging

The hearts of hell!

In the deep abyss

Of sweltering hotness

Bursting a fountain of ice

Breaking and crumbling glaciers

Sliding and smashing against

With devilish glee

Of fury and heat

A crackling rage and sweet nector

Of golden apples and tart mangoes

Birds humming and buzzing

A tune of heated dalliance

Does it scare you?

When you walk in skirts

Revealing more than they hide

Flapping and Flying

Showing dainty lace and ribbon?

Does it scare you?

When you talk to a stranger

His eyes sleek and smooth

And tongue silver and smooth

Hands smoothing your bare skin?

Does it scare you?

When they say to be timid

Tender and lovely and innocent

Draped in flowers, bathed in moonlight

Skin a rippling shade of gold?

It wouldn’t

For he never felt the bloody wetness

Or tasted it’s coppery tint

Never strayed where I needed him

Or knew the prick of my petals

The boil of my moonglade

Rippling in ribbons of shame.

A deep void of confusion

Of babbling voices and concerned stares

Looking inside myself

A wasted pitiful self

Deep in my reflection

What do I see?

Their whispers and smirks?

Their dirty remarks?

Their pulling and bullying?

No!

I see a girl

Oily and spotted and bore

Gangly and awkward and more

I see a girl

Hiding a smile in her freckles

Smiling with oil all splattered

I see a girl

Crying and bending and sore

I see a girl

Tall and proud

Flicking her hair

Her own self

To the core

A crushing disappointment

Like glasses and stones and wood

Shattering and crunching and splinting

A cry rippling from the throat

In shadows and doubt

A curtain of despair

Fluttering and swirling

Churning rancid and scarred

A scar deep within

Clanging with flaw

The gloom and doom,

With ink splattered on their face

And elbows covered in grease

Firelight sparkling behind their eyes

A myriad of emotions and colours

Peel the blackness tied on their eyes

Peel the death and hunger

Peel their shredded clothes

Bruised and cut and bleeding and burnt

The rust of their blood

And steel of their veins

Pulsating, boiling, spilling

Hot red blood

And running to their blood shot eyes

And bloody parched lips

Lips scarlet with alcohol

Knuckles purple with want

And crying tears of hunger

 Streaked with blood.

Hey! I am Ananya Panwar, a fellow challenger for the half poetry marathon 2021.

Writing and reading are my hobbies, not necessarily in that order.

Hope to have a lot of fun and exercise my creative muse.

Lastly, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.