A daughter of the stars and the moon. Professional daydreamer. മലയാളി. ✨✨

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  • artemiswrites 21h

    Somedays, you're
    love and heartbreak wearing a rosewater
    perfumed sequined shawl
    You're a Ghazal, sung at concerts;
    On these days, you're Strength personified;
    You make Art out of Hurt...
    But there will be days when you're
    cut down trees and trodden down
    You're the wounded earth
    and an Earth that's bleeding isn't an Earth that
    can be written Romantic poems about,
    and on days like these,
    You deserve to be looked after,
    you deserve to be heard.

  • artemiswrites 1d

    My mind is a host to innumerable poems,
    They make themselves at home
    by opening windows,
    and dusting away cobwebs...
    They make me feel less lost whenever I pay a visit.

  • artemiswrites 2d

    Waves and icy rain danced a lethal waltz
    at the
    Union of Sea and Storm.

  • artemiswrites 3d

    Every night at 3:15 on the dot,
    a pair of cuckoo birds call out,
    they seem to have conversations using Song;
    they seem to sing the Night to sleep
    and while for everyone else, their song is but a
    piercing cry that wakes them up from their reverie,
    for an insomniac weighed down by the Night,
    it is a Song of Hope
    it is a Song of solidarity.

  • artemiswrites 4d

    Melancholy and joy were twin sisters that
    lived within the notes of the cuckoo's song
    and couldn't be told apart;
    No one knew if the cuckoo was singing a dirge
    to commemorate the death of Summer
    or if she was singing a celebratory tune to mark the birth of monsoon.

  • artemiswrites 5d

    Be kind,
    and the Universe itself
    will shake down the fruits of joy
    that seem to hang tantalisingly high,
    like cashew fruits on a cashew tree
    onto your open palms.

  • artemiswrites 1w

    On a coir mat spread out on the terrace,
    I watch, as
    green parrots take dips in the ocean of the sky,
    and emerge with shrill calls that sound like rebukes,

    A koel sings it's last melancholic rhyme
    for the day, hidden among
    the leaves of the mango tree,

    Stars slowly come out of their roosts, in clusters,
    as the Sun returns to its nest, and
    My thoughts take flight like the Night,
    I look back at the last remnants of summer;
    I run my fingers through
    the feathers that it left behind.

  • artemiswrites 1w


    Ringlets of glass circle sturdy hands that
    hold a stick of bamboo
    crowned with white rice paste,

    The rains play with the
    fields that stretch out before
    thatched homes,
    it laughs,
    it makes puddles out of red earth

    And on red earth,
    paints in expertly organised whorls,
    an ancient dance of geometry
    and beauty,
    a dance soaked in the music
    of ancient times,

    With each stroke,
    a story gets retold,
    a legend is reborn,
    and an ancient art form awakens.

  • artemiswrites 1w

    This moment flit by like a rare
    Monarch butterfly,
    but my eyes were occupied with the
    smoky sillouhetted horizons
    of the future.

  • artemiswrites 1w

    Pain should never be romanticised but if I were to try, I'd say that Pain is a desperate lover, searching for answers in rose petals
    and I'm a rose garden;
    Pain strips be bare everytime
    and I float down in pieces.