Biting Into The Morning Sun

Feel an early dawn breeze,
the pre-winter coolness,
see the ruby autumn skies
filled with shades of blue
and hear the chirping of sparrows,
as we sit on the porch
with apples in our hands
ripe, red and succulent.

The Sun, blushing red,
is filled with the sweet emotion
of love towards our mother Earth,
therefore it never ceases to shine,
a symbol of hope and perseverance
for all that’s living.

It’s on the brink
of being fully risen
as we bite into the apples
sweet nectar fills our mouth
like the sweet emotion fills the Sun.

© M. Jay Dixit, September heart-to-hearts, 2021 All Rights Reserved

Posted over at dverse poetics: Always in Season

It’s hard waking up early under the influence of medicines and not always I can gather up the strength to do so but today I managed to open my eyes before sunrise and decided to have an apple before breakfast, so that’s where this poem came from. I found it very hard to nail this prompt and I think I’ve done a poor job at it, let me know what you guys think of it.

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Take care ❤

~Jay











Quadrille: A Farewell Embrace

Our worlds collided
like clouds in thunderstorm
and there was lightning–
two strangers became lovers.

Then you got a ticket to ride
and I went with you to the station,
train’s horn blared,
you wrapped me in your arms,
letting the moment linger on.

44 words.
Posted over at dverse: Quadrille #136 – Let’s Linger.

Poem: Monster

Possibly, I’m dead, mutated
into a ghost
inside your bed,

              like an evil spell
              crushing your confidence
              by meaningless blows—

              as yesterday fades
              with its fake promises
              of paradise

              and pig-headed politicians
              decide
              what’s real and fake.

I’m a shoeless
hunter on a time-rusted
motorbike with tattooed
hands, rotting

in a den of dopers,
smokers and drunkards
crumbling,

I breathe on a mirror
but I don’t see
my breath,

              only a face
              that I don’t recognize,
              It’s your face, smiling

              with promises of paradise
              and of peace,
              love and light.

As into dark
I plummet
from the breadcrumb sky
yeasting aloft
the greening
marbles of Taj Mahal.

I’m a hopeless
beast of burden,
chewing
the fungus
inside your mattresses— to stay alive.
So, I can flirt
with death.


Inspired by the dverse prompt: Let’s have fun, guys! Whatever takes your fancy: let’s have some fun with fungi.

Linked to Open Link Night #300

© MRITYUNJAY DIXIT, 2021. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

…So I Write

Nostalgia
tainted
with sooty thoughts.

Not in control
of myself
I write

with pain
smudging
colorful memories
painting them black.

Love and light
are lost.

All that’s left
are regrets
that pinch

so badly
I get through

my days
turn slowly
into sleepless nights.

44 words

~Mrityunjay Dixit

Posted over at dverse

Rough Patch

My mental breakdown was 4 months ago. I had ‘flipped out’ as mother likes to put it. The pills make me sleepy during daytime so I’m writing this in the evening. Doctor says it’ll take a year before I can fully recover, before my misery can end.

My mind’s a mess, thoughts are scattered everywhere like things in a messy room and all thoughts are negative. I have lost my way and I don’t think I can live in this upside-down world for a year— I have occasional suicidal ideations.

I still don’t know what triggered it. I’m sure that lockdown played its part but how I started to lose my way is still unclear to me.

Crucial to finding the way is this: There is no beginning or end.

~Mrityunjay Dixit

Posted over at dverse

When I was little

My mum told me
that if I should see
a helicopter seed
I must make a wish on it
and it’ll come true.

Now I am older
and I know
that you reap
sweet fruits
if you sow
your seeds with
your mothers’ wisdom.

44 words.

posted over at dverse: Quadrille #127: Planting Seeds

© MRITYUNJAY DIXIT, 2021. — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Poem: I Read The News Today

I read the news today, oh boy
about a cheated man who left the game
and though the news was rather sad
and gruesome to say the least
I just had to laugh

They had found his note on the bed
it was soaked in his blood
“I did this for you, Love” it read
He had poured his heart out for her
this fella, must’ve been a romantic
the knife had hit his aorta
and he had died instantly

What made me laugh
Though ashamedly, I confess
was the Love’s comment
“He had a heart of stone”
This kind lady had told the press.

I sipped my morning cuppa
and moved on
to the next headline:
“Not just Kamla Harris, Joe Biden too
has Indian link”

© mjaydixit 2020

Posted over at dVerse — Poetics 428 — Poetry as witness

As if on cue

Shades of sunset on my window pane,
chirping birds are perched on the sill,
outside is still: Windless hot dusk.
I am sitting at my desk by the window,
watching tangerine clouds towering the neighborhood
and dripping wet clothes hanging on clothesline.

~As if on cue~

Here comes the faint sound of police siren
and the 6’o clock curfew warnings made on megaphone.
Sunset shades have faded from my window pane
and all the birds have flown.
Tangerine clouds have turned dull grey
and the wet clothes have stopped dripping.

Form used: puente

© MRITYUNJAY DIXIT, 2021. — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday Rainbow

When you come around
the rain bows down.
When you fall around
trees and lands and minds
like a bow bridging
heaven and humankind,
even the reigning sunshine
relatively feels jaded.
No one knows
from where you begin
or where you end.
No one really knows
where you come from
or where you go.
But please don’t leave me
when I get old,
you’re so refreshing
so sweet and cold
Sunday Rainbow.
Everchanging
wherever you go,
shooting colours
everywhere you go,
like arrows from a bow.
I’ll miss you to death
if you ever left
Sunday Rainbow.
Like love you’re undying
unlike us; who are dying all the time.
My mind leaps up when you come around
and ends up in a realm beyond
reality
and like Lazarus
I’m reborn.

A/N: In this poem, the muse of an artist is metaphorized as Sunday Rainbow. The poet holds his art of writing poetry very dearly and deems it as a rare thing, he also hopes he won’t lose it as time goes by.

Posted over at dverse: Poetics: Build a Bridge

~Mrityunjay Dixit

Revolution

calls for
strong resolution

revolution
calls for
acting on one’s
own voilition

revolution
calls for
ending phony allusions
to old generations,
breaking
illusion of evolution
and it’s the solution
to problem of
pollution

river or ocean
revel volution
of water
caused by evaporation
and make rain
Rain falls down
due to gravitation
when seasons change
due to
Earth’s
Revolution.

Ps: to ‘revel’ means to celebrate in lively and noisy way, ‘volution'(meaning rolling or revolving motion) is here used to depict the phenomenon of Water Cycle.

Also linked to dverse where merrildsmith is hosting tuesday poetics, prompt: Write a poem (in any form) about revolution.

Thanks for reading!

© dixitmrityunjay, 2020. September heart-to-hearts

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