spearheadpoetry

Musings by ©thespearheadpoet

[spearheadpoetry]

Beautiful lies You left pieces of your love across those sunset parks and stargazing fields waiting at the place where the light of the last shining star would touch the foam of the effervescent tides, hoping that I would somehow, pick them all up, and follow the trail.

[spearheadpoetry]

Calling you by your name

Version 1.0 of the poem

Calling you by your name (Version 1.0)

You asked me, for the first time what was it like, to call you by your name, and I replied that it was like as if a swift arrow tore through the sweeping monsoon winds impregnant with the essence of sandalwood forests ghosting through wafts of the silvery monsoon clouds hitting me squarely, upon my chest each time I called those…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Ghosts of the golden times

Alright! I’m back after a much taken break, to posting my writings here, and I’m sure y’all like them.

There was this point of time in my life where I had become intimately familiar with the sound of your voice, the way your breaths chimed each time you spoke, the way your lips moved in grace each time you told my name the way each note of your voice tickled my ears in excitement, in perfect…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Mood palette

On days when I am happy I eat spoonfuls of yellow just like Van Gogh [someone told me so!] but with a hint of orange stolen from the nearest art shop [not the colour of the fruit but a fiery tint] and utter, spoken words of poetry to the skies to fool the sun into knowing that his rays have come before he did.

On days of my solitude I call out to the sun to give me back those shades of yellow and…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Blessings

Let those words speak, for this time I do not have anything in the name of a foreword for this piece of mine.

I always prefer travelling by the local electric train, otherwise known as the EMU’s; two reasons to that one to feel the wind on my face and the other, the blessings received and you may think I am babbling but let me tell you, so much happens in every compartment of this train from…

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[spearheadpoetry]

I love you. You love me. That's more than enough. But look around us. Each one of us is secretly waging wars against each other in the name of friendships and family. I wouldn't blame them, you see, cause in the end no matter what, we are bound in a blood pact to save our own skins. Despite the reluctance, we have to survive. Not for you and me, but for themselves. Everyone are busy trying to save themselves first, then come others, next.

©thespearheadpoet

[spearheadpoetry]

Bouquet of stitches

My interpretation of how harmful words can be, and how the recklessly persistent soul braves them every single time.

Today, I woke up 

with my heart patched  

to one side of my chest

no, definitely not inside 

my body for sure

somewhere across my corse

where my fingers can count

the number of stitches made

along a peculiar pattern

that hold onto this little sack

of flesh and blood like the

the…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Perspective

When it comes to my hometown, like others I give it the highest regard and attach myself with the roots of the deepest gratitude. Hometown is not a place, it is the site where the thread of your memories are spooled together and buried in the place where the world first heard your cries, the place where you were born. That’s why they call it perspective. Sometimes the path to somewhere home would…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Dialogue!D(eye)logue

What if my eyes wrote a poem, of a masquerade of stares and sights?

All of the court, a stage behold eyes of spectators, audience scatter around to witness a visual symphony, a musical feat of feet that tap and hands that clap.

Each muscle, from lip to limb deep in pulsating conversations while every feet move, in pirouettes and tiptoes spiralling, swirling swaying, sashaying oscillating with…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Polarity II (FULL POEM BELOW🔽) . . She is the wind sometimes gentle caressing gracing her presence at places alien to her existence sweeping her currents across countryside that never felt them; sometimes a storm brewing amidst the placid tides, silent an unstoppable force sinful to be reckoned lashing her currents along the path of ruin forged by intentions at mere turmoil. . . Every author becomes a parent at any stage of life, not just to kids but to their books. Authoring a book is almost the same as carrying a child. Unlike the human womb where the infant is fostered, every book embryo is fostered deep inside the heart, mind and soul of every author. This book of mine is not just a paperback with some fancy covers and fonts, but my heart and soul poured all over the paper with 12pt IM Fell English, dedicated to every daydreamer like me. Loneliness/Alone, Romance, Survival during tempestuous situations, and Recovery from pain, that’s exactly what my debut paperback MUSINGS BY A SPEARHEAD focuses on.  Go get your copy today! Link in bio! ❤ . . #soul #dtoslive #passion #artlixirpoetry #love #writingcommunity #poetry #stars #poet #teamo #poetrycommunity #poem #poetsofinstagram #amor #writersofinstagram #writer #writerscorner #frases #poems #jetaime #poets #writing #art #poemas #literatura #poetic #arte #corazon https://www.instagram.com/p/Brfq9MHBF9w/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ktlzgt097h9g

[spearheadpoetry]

Polarity. (PROSE IN CAPTION🔽) . . There was something truly, madly, deeply inherent, innate about her. The things she did. They were full of magic, surprising to those that look at her with genuine bewilderment. Like Midas gold, everything she touched, became art. Everything she spoke, became sermons to behold by ears that listen. Everything she saw, a true masterpiece never seen by what people would see through a greying vision, sometimes painted in faded colors. Everything she ever felt, was either too much, by her heart, taking in all of the world and concealing it within her senses. Or nothing at all, defenestrating all her emotions into a vacuum in which she would be found drowning in, slowly towards an introverted vortex of absolute silence profound. She was that kind of a person, unique beyond what others fail to express in words and attempt to call her a mess. She was beautiful. Still beautiful She was art. Still, an art. She was alive. Still alive. She was human. Still human. ©thespearheadpoet . . #author #writersofinstagram #poetry #authorsofinstagram #writer #love #poem #writersofig #poet #poems #bookstagram #poesia #poetrycommunity #authorlife #writerscommunity #authors #writers #poetsofinstagram #books #writerslife #globalagecaption #poemsofinstagram #writingcommunity #writing #amor #poema #writersnetwork #poetsofig #authorsofig #frases (at *caption) https://www.instagram.com/p/Brc5T2bHCUI/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=easslv8u2wfd

[spearheadpoetry]

Messages

What if my eyes wrote a poem, of a masquerade of stares and sights?

All of the court, a stage behold eyes of spectators, audience scatter around to witness a visual symphony, a musical feat of feet that tap and hands that clap.

Each muscle, from lip to limb deep in pulsating conversations while every feet move, in pirouettes and tiptoes spiralling, swirling swaying, sashaying oscillating with…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Promises. . . Prompted by @silverleafpoetry for #storysaturday and I really loved writing this one! On a roll today people! Do show some love! ❤ . . My debut paperback MUSINGS BY A SPEARHEAD is now available on @powellsbooks @booksamillion and on thebookdepository websites! Available on Amazon (Outside India) and Pothi (India only) and do support my writing by buyijg your copy today and leaving a review on Amazon! Would be grateful to you!❤ . . #soul #dtoslive #passion #artlixirpoetry #love #writingcommunity #poetry #loveyou #poet #teamo #poetrycommunity #poem #ddshoutout #poetsofinstagram #amor #writersofinstagram #writer #writerscorner #frases #poems #jetaime #poets #writing #art #poemas #literatura #poetic #arte #corazon https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq6_P1yB5bn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=isp7tlr4x0rl

[spearheadpoetry]

Museum (Poetic prose) . . I am human and I let people infiltrate my soul. While some may marvel at the secrets within, some vandalize the rooms inside of me too. And what may be left would be stains of their abuse. But I am human. And all I can do, keep forgiving and let them in, again and keep them entertained till they find their way out themselves. . . #thoughts #writersofinstagram #prosecco #poetry #love #prosecutor #poem #life #writer #poems #poet #quotes #writersofig #poetrycommunity #poesia #bymepoetry #thoughtsoftheday #writing #prose #poetsofinstagram #thoughtsnlife #wordporn #prosein #poeta #proseries #globalagepoetry #amor #writerscommunity #museum #arte https://www.instagram.com/p/BqdpJMOBwXn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1c47vsa925xur

[spearheadpoetry]

Reasons I stay

Why do I stay? Despite all the hardships that may rock the tides against the bow of my ship that sails across the oceans of life?

Reasons why I stay (to fight back, rise glorious!)

Because the universe has agreed in all peace, to give me what I truly need, in return for my patience, perseverance and good faith.

Because someone out there gently reminds me that there is so much good in store for…

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[spearheadpoetry]

A note

Before you go chasing people who will never promise, a second of their time to be with you in spirit, look around you and see those living that have felt the same way just like you, those living that need your love, and do nothing but go there and lend them all the love you have in store for them, and be there for them. They might not react, respond, shower you in words of gratitude or even…

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[spearheadpoetry]

Controlling my demons

(I had trouble sleeping every night, fearing the rise of my demons to come and haunt me in my sleep.)

The demons under my bed were a reflection of my very own self, born reclusive, yet wild when provoked and I pined about the mayhem that they would cause. But they would all seem to silence themselves every time he slid under those sheets with me. He would tell me “Darling, just fall asleep.…

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