Tag Archives: #songsnow

Coincidence

This evening
A beautiful
Grey & orange
Dusk

I search for us
In my mind’s eye
Impact
Options
Chances

What are the odds
The evens
Even when

There’s nothing
Left to hold onto
In my mind
I let go of 
Your hand

The fading
Only begins
Months
Later

Stifled breath
What’s causing it

Stifled life
The pression
Around
Losses
From
Inevitabilities
Unrecognized
Realities

Flipped between
Telling & not telling
The stories

Underneath
The safety
Unsafety
Flipside of rest
Herein
Exhaustion
Takes over

Nevertheless

No rest for those
Deemed wicked
We embrace
Our witchiness

& that is how we began
Spells have repetition
Clouds loopdaloop
Above us

Messages of you
Draw themselves
Across the blue

Our love was the sky
The paths through snow
The gentle guiding
Moments of life
Where all is just known

& when the fronds arrive
& the little leaves unravel themselves
I will remember the telepathy of us
The amazing coincidence of us

© Niliema Karkhanis


For Your Daily Word Prompts frond‘ & ‘stifle


Featured image by Gradienta from Unsplash


Love spell 2

Acquiescent mist
Wrapping itself
Around the
Ever ephemeral
Air that
Directs it
Carries it
Everywhere

In kindness
To being

The mist on the horizon came to me as if it were a physical manifestation of every cerulæn dream I’ve had & we had for love & for meaning

~○~

Forthwith the
Months
Of days without
Gentle mystification
So that when it
Arrives
It is
Known to be
Of the story
Of the love
This psychic connection
This love spell
Which
We both
Mixed

Where did it begin
& where will it end
Its unknown structure
In the continuity of
Existence

In the intangibility
Of words
Fulfilled somehow
Yet inadequately
In between letters

Mystical typograpghy
My love
If we weren’t so
Good at it
We’d have both been fine

Don’t you think

A weird thing which
Stays with me
Star
Is that I never told
You about all of
My favourite
Songwriters

Somehow that lingers
I guess because it’s
A measure of
Significance

Oh star
The way we were
Was never how we
Could have been

Still it was lovely
It was wonderful
It was too good

I was true

© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Today

Today

I feel

A lot

Of things

Too many

To say

Here

I write it

Anyway

~○~

Dreams

Of future

& thoughts

Of now

Grief

Is not

A line

We know

~○~

Feeling is

Marked in time

~○~

Not a day goes by

Where to be

Or to not be

Isn’t a question

~○~

Oh […]

Today

© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Odds & evens

Sorrows

Drive hearts

Beating

Odds

Even

Stillness

Beats

Faster

Looming

Light

Of these

Ages

Economy

Is

Interdependency

Not the

Opposite

Certain

Kinds

Of taste

Are a sin

The only

Real sin

Representing

What’s behind

All of it

With this

Story sung

Waiting

Stays

The sun

© Niliema Karkhanis

Odds & evens

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Manufacturing hope

Manufacturing hope is my exactly 20-word story for the 20 Words Tuesday prompt: hope
Hosted by Bulbul’s Bubble

She was the stories she told. Manufacturing hope. Playing other characters with hints of herself. Composites. Driving the town over.


© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Of flitting

Cw: implied intimate partner violence, allusion

I think you thought it was me who had a tendency to flit around. Maybe you were too polite at the time to say it. Sometimes I see it in my writing. My entire flittiness. Is that a word? Is that of consequence? Prescriptive linguistics are a bore & offensive.

See how I flit?

You did it too though. Didn’t you? I never got a chance to say that your light switch 0 & 1 reaction to my multi-dimensions wasn’t exactly grounded. Was it?

Your flit

Like a live

Electrical

Wire

Dipped in

Libation

An explosion

From

Misinformation

Perhaps the most poignant indicator of it all: the refusal of acknowledgement.

The victim-blaming.

I’m a poet because I hate lying & I want to leave impressions more than I want to offer any fixed answers.

But I say victim-blaming in plain language, because we need to say it more just like that.

You know?

The funny thing is…you do know.

& that’s what hurts the most.

That someone who should know better, hurt me more than almost anyone else.

Didn’t you care that you were my comrade?

Didn’t you care that threats are not love?

I’m not selfish for knowing that. For being clear about any of it…clear when I was also the most confused.

I write these letters to you. Unsent letters to you.

Not because I think you’ll listen to psychic logic. No.

But so I can believe myself.

So that I can actually believe myself.

I do more now.

I do.

You dropped me carelessy while looking away & pretending not to.

Is that not a flit of all flits? Was I not responding to it?

Flicking. Flicked.

Thrown by the wayside. Me by you.

I managed to swim.

Back into my own watery disillusioned self again. My lost body.

Disillusionment.

You took from me: illusionment.

Is that a word? In this day & age that should be of no consequence.

I’m still swimming to here in what seems like perpetuity.

At that time, my words for you were shaky. Like I was. In such physical precarity, I wrote from the heart. For you.

Comrade, that you betrayed what we had, it kills me to this day. Not that that means anything to you.

As spring arrives, anticipating blossoming, I remember our future as it left us because our beginning began too soon.

Everyone hates an I told you so. Maybe less so when it’s a note to self.

I’m less shaky nowadays.

After the night of me, the afternoon of me, the morning of me collapsed into myself, somehow my flutter finally returned. 

My silvery wings of sheer mettle. Renewed radiating energy; on an eventual return to reality, the unreality of we; the spell, finally leaving me.

© Niliema Karkhanis


For Your Daily Word Prompt: flit


Flit & flitting definitions


Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash


Return

Scathed we go

Along our ways

Nursing wounds

Our hurts

Others’ pains

Following

The imperative

Of existence

Sometimes

Despite ourselves

In the bones

Of things

Remembering

All the things

Letting go

Enough to

Know

New things

New pains

New joys

All the things

Change

We become

& unscathed

Return

© Niliema Karkhanis


For Your Daily Word Prompt: scathe


scathe

[ skeyth ]   

verb (used with object), scathed, scath·ing.

to attack with severe criticism.

to hurt, harm, or injure, as by scorching.

noun

hurt, harm, or injury.


https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/scathe


Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash


Orchestra

The life of ideas

Ideology

Inculcated

Things

Made up

Of us

All that we

Believed

Maybe not

So real to you

As it was to me

That must have

Been hard

Even though

It’s not

But who am I

To say

I suppose

Your world

Is make

Believe

Mine is

Stark

Sometimes

Sometimes It’s a […]

Orchestra

© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Today

Today

I feel

A lot

Of things

Too many

To say

Here

I write it

Anyway

~○~

Dreams

Of future

& thoughts

Of now

Grief

Is not

A line

We know

~○~

Feeling is

Marked in time

~○~

Not a day goes by

Where to be

Or to not be

Isn’t a question

~○~

Oh survival

Our opinion is

You’re a

Temporary

&

Welcome

Guest

Each day

We go to make

& to re-make

Ourselves

© Niliema Karkhanis


For Your Daily Word Prompt: opinion


Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash