brotipriya

A design and random images collections by .. .. BROTIPRIYA

[brotipriya]

Yesterday's rocket ship

Yesterday’s rocket ship

As my breath become smaller

Each year each day little by a little

As I feel something takes over

A dark necessities

Of tomorrow

As I walk slowly towards a room without doors

And the room full of doors without walls

I need to sleep now

It’s already been late.

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Pen

Lets start with the fact that I Lost my pen safely hidden in the attic Of the mess of us And I hold a plastic red pen now To tick and cross my students copies And struggle to sustain So Someday when I come home I will go through all the stuffs And find my pen Only to find out the room is already a mess Of people walking in and out Of people not moving staying put

He said, people will come and stay That’s…

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Love, Less

A few meters distance Have I traveled in red lips A cuppa tea at 7 am In morning just like me Half left for a mess I can clean I have seen There I have been

He said Winter is coming As Coldness in lonely bed Wakes me up perfect For a hot bath Braless walks on street to work The pale rainy morning Would have said the same Winter had come already

So I stacked up the woods Of old seasonal hugs Dusted…

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Culture

Few porcelain cups

Went back to its original states

Some herbal digestives melted

On the floor of rented luxury

The tenure ends

And we go back

On fighting for our original states

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Friends home

Five sticky notes

And a revolving fan

Has more pain than I am

In healed cut marks

And guitar strings

Have more stories than Mine

And what do I wait for here?

My knifes are rusty

In maggots filled kitchen

The sink stinks of weeks left over

I my walls are clean like its not mine

And I dream of the cockroach

Died almost a year ago

I wait to go back there

I wait for love

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Goals or something like this

Someday, In few years later,

When I am something

I wanna stand in a rooftop and say out loud

This uneducated, forgetful, impatience liar is my man

And people will look at you with pride

And hope

Of fixing their own messes,

For trying

For loving

Make yourself the best man

– not a perfect man

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Good bye, lover

I just wanted,

Like everything you chose

Over me, in my worse situation,

Your priorities over me

Those important situations

Where you had to leave me shaking

Anxious and depressed

For friends

For work

For you

I just fought for a moment like that.

I wanted to feel how does it feel

When you chose me

Over everything.

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Slowly/personal

You said I am broken

From every aspects

Depressed and don’t wanna get better

You said to get up and be positive

And do something,

Something creative.

I am broken,

I am lost, scared

My shaky hands can’t hold a pencil

My anxious brain gives me nothing

But exhaustion, your need, your comfort

I want you

To fix myself

“Scared”

I am sorry I cannot create a piece of art

Right now I cannot be strong…

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Evolution

I am giving up

On art

Art destroying me

I want a stupid job

I want to work for money

I want a lot of money

At the end of the month

So I can buy me happiness

The sound of the sea

Mist of the hills

Busy day and sleeping pills night

It won’t remind me of the art shop I wanted with you

I won’t remind me of our balcony where I wanted paint with you

It won’t remind me to live

Live the best of me with…

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Yours, faithfully

At the corner rack

Under seven month old dusts

I never dared to touch

I never bothered to clean

There it was

The love that remains

In some contacts

Archived dreams hidden well

Round beds in soft pillows

Still warm in body heat

Still messy in nicotine guilt

There it was

The love that remains

In glowing five inch screen

I looked but never dared to look

Same gibberish stacked wish

Some moments from…

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Chaos

What is chaos

Probably a girl with a balloon

In a group of adults

Or a piece of never heard band

At a gallery full of arts

I normally woke up from the bed

In dried out red

And a crystal had bothered so much

I had struggle loving back

For the question was asked

And the answer….

Chaos is the extra sugar

I have mixed in a cup

Out of love.

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Bangalore

On a bike for two days home

Chariot paid via digital wallet

I couldn’t hold shoulders as I do

If I am with you

Away from home there we were

In blue swift on busy road

In the cupboard hand painted gifts

For someone’s someone

On littered street in clean city of dusts

And a pug I so wanted to show you

And in absence of you from everything

Will it work?

On a bike for two days home

I couldn’t notice…

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From help desk

I sold a hard boiled egg

For next month

And some pure blood

For four days

And some protein shake

As my incentive

Stuck in my manager’s desk

Unsigned as he ran Out of ink

While he was writing bad poetry

So I thought

I will look for a new grocery shop

To sell my eggs

This time without plastic bags

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Airy armpits

Last time I was myself

Wore a yellow wall

From a liquor shop

Where they sold bottles

In a genie

Who looked fat

Like a wise man does ho ho

And carries his fate around

On a stick made of dead dandelion tree

Last time I was myself

I drank potatoes from the past

And stumbled across blue orange air

Where the thought bubbles danced

And in one

I might have popped

And that’s the last time

I was myself

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Almost nothing

I have had spinach and onions

Full of urea and pesticides

A glass of water with no minerals

One cotton shirt with viscose blend

An off day with deadline

Family without familiarity

An army of termites won’t eat me

And men In routine

With malnutrition lusts

My body has rejected in acid vomits

And sleepy working Sundays

Yet I ate

For the synthetic taste of love

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List of creepy things

The ant trail

On the wall coated with calcium

One dead body

Smelled like water

Five books

Half of my existence

And three pita breads

13hours 49minutes old

And you still think

It has no meaning.

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Sea shore

Three kilometres away

There lies more thirty three

In rain soaked asphalt road

And misty abyss

From local train

I could see it fading

The distance

I could see us dying

Here

Thirty six kilometres away

From love

My moist vagina itches

178 pace for the doctor

Can never fix my misty winter days

I have waited to ding

The 9oclock watch

And a five rupees cigarette.

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