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  • jeelpatel 17h

    Don't make your hell more wild. Don't give more attention to your dark phases.

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    Prisoner

    You accustomed to hold the jar of fireflies
    In the deep-set space midst your two lungs
    To feel the flattering of the light till inmost core
    Of your desultory bones of construction
    Like ripe midnight sun in the Norway sky
    Tries to be dreamcatcher for ephialtes

    Essence of books in your very molecule
    Makes your perception alive at the crossroad
    Plums from the ice box kiss your squishy lips
    To haul up the flow of dry negativity at the pier
    Over the wild sea of your limbless thoughts
    Where you can walk on the cold concrete

    These non-living things make you alive
    But time comes and formidable illusion
    To feel everything dead in its own womb
    Is an addiction now which leads you
    To the prison like one handcuffed prisoner
    Who kills miles in self created battle ground

    Anxiety, depression, brokenness are emotions
    Beyond the horizon of human control
    But you borrow these emotions easily
    On your restless tongue to tell this as a story
    With manipulated words but you forget
    You ain't alone, everyone has tough boulders
    To break, to create happy castles for ownselves

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 2d

    I failed.

    Today I feel eye-ache,
    Head is high on slipshod
    Sleep cycle
    With half opened eyes and
    Wide awake thoughts
    Of previous whole day
    As I don't know how to be
    High on the bold alcohol
    'Cause it ain't my
    Province to
    Get over the things
    And later when very cell
    Feels dead then throw
    Your head hard
    On the temperance
    Movement.

    Though I tried to be
    necromancer
    By exploring new pattern
    Of my own poetries
    With the help of my old books
    With rare and unspoken
    Words before
    This world
    But Alas!
    I failed to do so

    Callosities of my skin
    I dug and tried
    To write powerful poetry
    on papers
    I played Stradivarius
    In the dark room under the
    Dim blue light
    Till wires get broken
    And finger caps
    Bleed and leave
    Stains of
    Rosy words
    On the white plain
    Tiles.

    I failed today
    For giving shape to
    My amorphous words
    I failed today
    For healing my intact
    Yet broken self.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 4d

    This is SCRIBBLE. This is how I try to define life, mind and heart. Just a random prose. There ain't any base in particular. Thank you for the long read :)

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    Homo sapiens

    Today I ascend black stone stairs. I like to skip steps of even numbers. Then there is high arched passage branched away from it and which lead me to my ten years old room. Not so crowded with fabricated frames on flat chest walls, or wind chime at the collarbones of my window as a necklace, or with polyresin statues of singer lady with long hair in the corner over my wooden desk of piles of books.

    Today I'm going to turn my room into chemical laboratory. First I'm taking out retorts of my experiences, no matter from rosy days of spring or from rutilant days of an Autumn.Then I would wrap my fingers around the glass test- tubes. I would put FOUR drops of liquid from the surface of my or yours or humans' heart, squishy yet solid in it. To get the emotions no matter smooth as velvet or complex as a collapsed home with shapeless virtue. And then I would put FOUR drops of cerebrospinal fluid from humans' sucli and gyri of brains.To get the logical ideas, an orthodox or trending theories, inmost and untouched brilliance, mealy mouthed contradictions.

    But Hey, don't forget to get those most restless, anxious, thoughts from the cesspool of your brain and those unanswered questions from its balcony who are still being sun kissed sunflowers. "Now, while writing this I feel humans' brain has more hidden treasure to explore rather than their hearts."

    "But now after writing that above line I feel then why heartquake is more severe than the sudden blow of deadliest brain hemorrhage, as in both humans would die in most of the cases. But may be in heartquake there is still some hopes of heartbeats, even not perceivable at the jugular vein though we have to feel it. And we just fail to explore the way to come out heart's chambers. And in deadliest hemorrhage you would get an easy death.

    Sorry I just went on another path.

    Okay back to the laboratory. Now I would put FOUR drops of blue reagent in that solution of heart and mind. Fit the test tube in test tube holder and make it hang in the air by piercing it for few minutes. Time it would take according the thickness of your emotions and thoughts. Like for me as an silent yet so restless person it would take 31 minutes to show all the shades and particles and fumes. For my brother as he is simple and cool personality with an expressive nature it would take 10 minutes.

    Weather of my laboratory or room is without kin and kith with partiality. So results would be proper trust me. I wasn't prejudiced but I felt there would be an explosion only in the taste tube as we accustomed to have explosion on our overcast sky when we get stuck midst heart and mind. But what I am seeing is plain solution of "balancing" , particles of chaos of life at the end, and purple ring in the middle which shows there is difference between mind and heart's perception but so boldly they have embraced each other in purple hue to make rest solution of life simple . All you need to do is not paying attention on that purple ring to create conflict. Just swim in rest solution try to get meaning of every minute particles at the end which are dormant yet beautiful.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 5d

    31st Century

    The black car which you drive off
    Piercing dun colored cockrow
    To fill vacant tunnels inside
    your body by elixir after
    Wringing out the baby sun
    By the intense stare of your
    Perplexed lenses
    Which crave to get
    Vision out of the box
    For the new day
    To be explorer of 21st
    Century or
    To be remembered as
    the best empiricist of the
    Life of homo sapiens
    In 31st Century

    There is restless kid inside you
    With the cosmos of
    Unestablished planets in her
    One goosebump
    On the high rope she walks
    To taste the depth of the
    World by getting
    oscialltes of fall
    on her cold feet
    On very door of mystery
    She knocks to get the
    Reason of every "why"
    She cuts the blue like
    An axe cuts the strengthened
    Wood fibers of brown
    To learn the turns and
    Twists of circumstances

    And you still wonder
    How miracles
    have had happened
    Midst the folds of
    Black washed walls
    In the presence of capricious
    Gravity's bones which keep
    Pressing up against our
    Chests
    By getting locked in the
    prison of skull box only
    With the unhealthy look
    For the world
    And inside the most
    Healthiest shelter of the
    Satisfaction.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 1w

    Apocalypse

    To brood about this,
    I would go underwater in the
    Atlantic ocean
    With the knees clasped to
    The chest
    On the surface of avalanche
    Followed by gravity,
    Under the shower of fulmination
    from the welkin's uncanny mouth
    I would imagine apocalypse where,
    Birds would cut the all feathers
    And would throw their own selves
    In the most unshielded
    Fires of forests

    Leaves of silver birch would turn
    Like an over cooked meat and
    Gradually would turn into ashes
    Armies would drop their
    red breastplates off
    And would let the cannon balls
    feel the touch of human body
    till its hardest core
    Lands of mother earth
    Would turn into volcano of
    Boiling oils and chemicals
    And woods of homes
    Would be mediator to make
    A bond with wild fire

    But in this moment,
    On the comfy black couch
    Under the light of lantern and
    well decorated roof
    With the soft touch of wind
    From the network of
    My semi transparent window
    I do hope we would die with
    Quite less trouble and pain
    As we are always helpless
    Yet so hopeful
    Our brains can imagine
    Horror of these things
    All of sudden
    But our orbs are still in love
    With the beauty of oceans
    And mountains
    We don't even dare to brood
    This apocalypse
    We're just blind over this
    Peaceful persistence.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 1w

    SCRIBBLE.

    Sometimes I don't trust time. Time can't heal wounds. But it can change its depth, its pain, its hue.

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    Time

    Time is constant so your
    Flat clock on the hollow
    Concrete blocks, when
    Corpulent clouds and weak
    Thunderstorms
    Knock your sky, starless
    Frequency of
    Seconds climb the ladder fast
    Inside your veins or
    They get locked in the
    Prison of your intense
    stare of
    "Can't move on".

    For you,
    Shades of time are the most
    Beautiful and calamitous
    Changes on your
    Restless tongue
    By which you often record
    Spoken poetries of flaxen
    Past and also
    You would sing
    Brawny songs ahead
    In the new season of
    Identical time

    You present yourself
    Downhearted often,
    Many times you give up
    On hues of hopes,
    On imprinted quotes
    Of motivation
    As imposters are they
    You feel who just
    Lift you up for an
    Erstwhile
    And throw you down from
    Mount Everest
    Helpless you, just
    Lean on time
    No matter it will take
    Centuries or
    It will take seconds

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 1w

    You are You

    Walls are walls
    And soles are soles
    Create pattern in spacious world
    By clashes followed a sun of
    Rioting on the same tough
    Tiles of your
    home

    Wonders are wonders
    And thunders are thunders
    Shake your dry spinal cord
    Make a melody, painful and insistent
    Death twirls on it yet life
    Try to snatch
    purpose

    Lights are lights
    And fights are fights
    Curse your healthy pulsation and
    Ruin the peace in your sulci
    Break the transparency of
    Canyon nigh to
    Success

    Nightmares are nightmares
    And dares are dares
    Pull your heels out of comfort zone
    Splash cyanide over your
    Anxiety, inside the surface
    To make a dare
    more bold

    Blues are blues
    And you(s) are you(s)
    Can be wide awake like dragon by
    the cannon shot on your
    Hearts, can come over
    from apocalypse to live
    Like warriors.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 1w

    Temporary.

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    Gasoline

    Let the rootstocks of my blue
    forests inside occiput
    Embrocate their selves with
    Moisture of gasoline
    Like the dead body gets
    Saturated by milk and honey
    Before teary eyes set it on
    The mortal fire of
    Cremation
    So it can skate on ice glen
    Of heavens hopefully

    Hoar houses midst forests
    Without vaulted roofs and
    Painted walls
    Breathing last memories
    Of worst wars,
    Of graceful occasions,
    Desires and expectations
    Are mere brown reeds
    In the wind of
    Apocalypse.
    Bricks break their chests
    To make new pattern.

    Today, I don't want to save
    Any house of love and care,
    Of hurricane and nightmare
    'Cause today
    My heart of hearts is
    beating out of the rib cage
    Fingers are too keen to
    Tear all things apart
    Anxiety is more anxious
    To throw all vases
    Of roses on the walls

    'Cause today I don't want
    To save myself. Let the
    Gasoline ruin all forests
    Inside my occiput.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 2w

    These Days

    Everyday sits on the blue casement
    At the edge of your rosy lips
    Rises behind the pent house
    Of your head or
    plummets some feets
    downward on the
    Ladder of your curvy spine
    Just like earthbound
    Spaceship come
    Back from space to home

    Today rises hot with fire balls
    Backyards of earth are shriveled
    Coffee beans in cup
    taste the same
    From foyer of cosmopolitan cities
    Oriental lilies throw
    The same fragrance on
    people's morning face
    But everything is hung
    precariously on its own
    Womb

    Days are piling up,
    One by one
    Today is on the yesterday of
    Dead or loser or giving up
    With little bit more strength in
    Its thigh muscles,
    Tomorrow will be on today
    Of uncertainty or discovery
    With little bit more
    guidance in its
    Patterns of foot steps

    You blink and try to vanish
    This on going disaster inside
    Others' lungs
    As their hypoxia choke
    Your squishy throat
    You whisper prayers for
    Humanity
    On the edge of very eve sun
    With hope tomorrow it
    Would rise with cure
    For all hearts and
    Hurts.

    ©jeelpatel

  • jeelpatel 2w

    Mirrors and Smokes

    Mirrors and zombies, Smokes and joggers
    Never define neutral backscatter of light
    From the sun within your papery skin
    To unwrap your illegal ironic intentions
    To create boulder of true perceptions
    So you can say you've yourself constant

    Mirrors ~ accept you as you're, externally
    Fractured or strong, gruesome or beautiful
    Face with or without blush on cheekbones
    They travel on your very curve, edge to edge
    See what you see, move how you move
    And you give postures, they will click you

    Smokes ~ paint you cloudy on the roads
    Your secrets can hang on their bold biceps
    And your revelation can kiss their lips
    Yourself feel safe to be wrapped within 'em
    Quite blurry, quite clear are you for people
    As you're to your capricious yet own self

    Mirrors and Smokes ~
    No one knows the angles of sombre stars
    Loom up above the horizon of your bones
    You've never try to cease violent volcano
    By borrowing water of others' lilac love
    You've been twirling on the painful tunes
    You've been smiling on the lashes of others

    ©jeelpatel