A Ritual Of Eternities By @akratiisalive, Published In Wine Cellar Press

hey guys! how are y’all? hope august is being nice to you. haven’t been able to post something in a while now because not sure what is happening with my writing. but don’t want this blog dying like me (literally sitting here, wrapped in a blanket with a bundle of tissue papers on either side because apparently u can catch severe cold in august!!!!). anyways, wanted to tell y’all that i’m very grateful for all the love that you have shown in these past months. love reading your tags in the reblogs. my heart just goes💓💓💓💓. would love to hear your questions, random stuff, poetry prompts or basically anything. my tag list requests are always open as well. drop by in the inbox/asks sometime! - akrati, xx

transcript:

summer’s shadowless exit wounds

august is shifting its entry wounds to october’s doors and the lines of your palms are telling you the number of summers you have spent in your shadow./ the essence of your mayhem is corpsing with sun’s each passing ray;/ the salivary savour of the right ingrown wisdom tooth has cut through your tongue./ in lieu of mango-lit dreamland hours, you are bleeding summer’s grass blades into bleached hair by the pumpkin moon./ the air doesn’t taste saline anymore. // the badlands bequeathed from your father’s lineage have traces ingrained/ even in your attic’s decades-old dust./ they are robbing you of yarns of your maternal grandma’s sarees./ and you’re tired./ you’re tired of helping your mother out to make space for every hand-me-downs/ she has been shoving under her bed. // summer did cut through like a knife/ but you had been stitching your outspoken words/ together to make sweeter sentences,/ so,/ when this year’s fall bids your birds goodbye, they wouldn’t be left with traces of your anomaly. the ones that flew out/ as soon as you opened yourself to the sun,/ for you have realised that the light/ can find you even with the curtains drawn./ there is no place to hide except for the sun’s mouth.// the top right foot of the dinning table/ has stopped creaking./ your grandfather passed away in July./ Chapatis in the house have/ thickened to the normal measure,/ so now,/ you won’t get called names on your bony frame. father sits in the bedroom, contemplating/ on the bait of his day’s sweat by/ the notes he gave out that day and the ones/ he will receive at the end of the month./ the dining table,/ now,/ sits empty in a muffled rattle.// your tongue tastes like/ the decayed French Marigolds/ you found in your late may’s school backpack./ its fragrance still travels through when/ you smell it in between the beige curtains/ of the attic’s room./ you are pondering on what must it be like to watch yourself sleep./ the heart is not heart shaped and/ you want to wash dishes with the foam/ but there are none left in the sink./ you haven’t eaten for 2 hours and,/ unlawfully,/ like an adult’s dream,/you are hungry again.

taglist under the cut! ( send an ask to be added removed.)

@champagnesrush @ch3rryblo55oms @ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @jules-hazard @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @floralbeast @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @parihumay (if anyone knows their moved blog, pls notify me)

transcript: hands to my dreary dreams.

i have been shedding skins since last August. consider me an onion, your favourite vegetable. don’t put me in water. i need to shed your tears.// the dreams are dreary like cold milk or uncooked soup. the tepid air in the kitchen, under the sheets disgorges a burnt out fire, never a homely warmth. but in this one bedroom kitchen apartment, they heap incompleteness yet they are consumed like your favourite soup.// i want you to reach into my throat, past the lips that have never been swayed. reach out to the words i hoard, my secret stash, the ones that even eyes fail to convey.// reach out to me and i will meet you halfway in my sleep. all i do now is dream. the wishful thinking is not about staying still but moving quietly in my sleep. and letting the grass strike my face as i bend my limbs to mould into the tire. i am reaching out to every six year-old who played with me but i have replaced my body with a tall child.// i want to stand still, drive a knife to make myself two. a daughter, now let me be two cells too. mitosis: i want to get doubled, not divided into halves like my father.// untangle my earphones. are you watering my plants? the sun will incinerate their phantom vibrants for even clouds deceive when salt of the earth doesn’t hit the mark.// i have buried my grief in my mother’s lap. now, she has ceased to exist. meet me halfway in her shawl. i will wrap my fingers around yours. and in time, my windows will crawl back to our home, their edges engraved with her shawl.

tag list under the cut (ask to be added or removed):

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @ch3rryblo55oms @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagne-rush @mydogisgaytoo @floralbeast @it-is-what-it-it-iss @lilhappylilsad @hoeliterature @kajukatliontop

Hey sweetie! ♥️

Hope you are getting better...! The thing I wanted you to know is that you are amazing. Your writing really awestruck me and I am always dully amazed whenever I read your work. The emotions and words go so well together and the quality of your work has only been increasing day by day!

Just keep up the good work! I can't wait to read more of your poems (Maybe one day, we might even collaborate on one 👀)

Keep well and wish you a speedy recovery 🙏

hello love! just got back from docs so def on the track of getting better thanks so much for asking <3. im so glad u enjoy my writing this is brimming my heart with all the soft candies in the world. and o!! m!! g!! the collab!! i have always wanted to do one with u and like🙇🏻‍♀️ now that u have mentioned it i see no choice but to abide. 🧚🏼‍♂️

i have so many files in my notes app that mention/are based on summer. its really hard to bid something goodbye that was never meant to stay long when you live around people and not with them. i am stuck within a corner of myself that i have created by consuming deeply irreligious media which never bothers the ones i live around. i don’t know why i am writing this because this isn’t making sense but it’s supposed to. sun today here isn’t shinning and all the birds depart from the sky by 4:30 pm. the verandah echoes emptiness even though we have just hung a new swing, knowing we will hardly sit on it anymore. we tiptoe around tragedies every other moment but in this house we never speak of the real. i need to read books and consume mitski more. the gap between those parked cars is making me realize how much i crave for a tightly packed space with my neighbours. god is not around because i was dreaming of calm waters this morning as i woke up with a jolt and my body didn’t shiver. the days will grow darker tomorrow but today is almost over and nobody seems to acknowledge how much they miss it.

hey guys! hope you all are doing good and/or manifesting the good times. i just wanted to notify you that since my exams will be starting from next week and the coming months this year will be very busy, i may have to go on a semi-hiatus. which means, i will be posting my works but not very regularly and might not be active as much, but just for a couple of months. posts will be queued. since my blog is not going anywhere, you can always wander around my works, maybe reblog them if you like them.

i also have been very creatively deprived recently. but, have been trying to cherish it as well. that being said, i wanted to ask if you guys would like to read something on your prompts? the prompt could be anything ranging from prose to poetry, from specifically instructed starting and/or ending to a loose motif, from imagines of some alternate reality to the mundanity of our lives. by all means, you can go wild in my ask box and post as many as you want, whenever you want. it might take me a little while to get to them but i will do my best to meet your expectations. i hope you drop by and say hello!

-best,

akrati xx

(i am so scared about this post i know hardly anybody cares but i wanted to as well)

tag list under the cut (shoot an ask to be added or removed!):

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @kittywritesmistress @a-smart-dumbass (why isn't this working)

Transcript and tag-list under the cut:

Finding Your Home

There’s smoke coming from across the pond,/ A pond that doesn’t harbour water anymore./ How tenebrous must it be:/ I inhale the factory./ The remnants of your glass beads,/ they fall into place, marking my path/ into the throat of words & winds/ & I step ahead to lean into the summer.// Birds, vultures, butterflies:/ You keep your promises intact, / Air still harbours you./ But I am escaping your field. Honey,/ I want to escape your field./ If only I could be so righteous,/ If only I could have indulged before your periods,/ A probable concrete must have been built./ My words could have never sunk in your flesh,/ our elbows wouldn’t have stung in water. //By each step, i am stepping afar/ from the transient blue dome./ Children, Mothers, Grandparents-/ All are holding hands to protect each other,/ -Our hands were tied to our shadows, / So when I stepped onto yours, I set you free.// Another break from the vicious beauty:/ A tree so beaten stands like an electric pole/ that infuses current, I shan’t say but,/ in me and you./ I tiptoe around its roots:/ How firm must it be?/ Is it you? / Is it you?// At last the mud is turning grey,// Two well lit candles are welcoming my plight.// I breathe in the wicks with my mouth & nose// & your dictionaries come into sight.// They are so indifferent to what you have spoken,// I need your voice to pronounce these words.// Scouring the stone house, I find a litany// that bylines your name prefixing ‘late’.// Feeling my heart dousing your walls,// I step outside to find a mausoleum. // Mangoes-/ Rotten Mangoes are fencing your grave./ I shut my nose to fixate my sight/ onto the path that I have yet to cover/ Lest your death may be a distraction./ Distraction destruction-/I never succumbed/ to the grass adorning my grave. What difference/ does it make?/ If I mustn’t lie with you,/Why shall mother earth/ take me in?

tagging: @carvedoutofpain @rottensummerlove @nochampagneonlyproblems @some-broken-words @ruins-of-heart @hoeliterature @floralbeast @starlightandnightbreeze @riskanothergoodbye13 @mydogisgaytoo @kajukatliontop

okay so im really not that educated in the poems department and only know select poets so my observations might just sound stupid but your poems remind me of emily Dickinson!! i love ur poems and somehow your poems are the only ones ive reread! i usually just like a poem and then forget but i keep on coming back here for ur poems anywyas i used the word poems a lot here sorry about there and also sorry for rambling you're really swag though i hope you have great day

omg wha- thank you so much for saying that to me??? i have been staring at this message for like 5 mins now and i really dont know how to respond. i have been an ardent reader of miss dickinson and i dont think i can accept this honour but i'm so in awe that you feel tht way. i hope you have a great day too and a cozy winter!

SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE ASK I REALISED I FORGOT TO ASK TO BE IN UR TAGLIST LMAO 😫

omg thanks so much!!!! u r added!! <33333