Blooming Bloody Flowers


Credits: Mahitha Kasireddi. Copyrighted Image.

Ice-bitten toes
couldn’t contain the
excitement anymore.
they tip-toed out of
the heavenly comfort
of cushy covers on
hearing the feeble crack
of burning maple twigs
and litter collected
from the backyard.
while combusting,
the pops sounded like
curious kids asking
a hundred questions.
“why do we do this?”
“why do we do this,
at this time of the day,
why not in the evening?”
spoons dipped in ghee,
incited the sparks;
further provoking the
dancing flame; like a
fox poisoning a cub’s
ears against the lion.
the blooming bloody
flower grew in size,
rocked in ecstasy,
throwing open it’s
arms; attempting to
pull towards itself,
my green, my grey
and black and casted
an orange-red haze in
my eyes; like a hot liquid
bronze metal poured
into a mould much
before chipping off the clay
after it cools; as through
i’m a diamond waiting to
glow the brightest white
for just once before dissolving
in the air; leaving no evidence
of its mass or volume. the fire-
it lends a piece of its heart,
the warmth that mothers
always have underneath
that unshakable demeanor.


2 thoughts on “Blooming Bloody Flowers

  1. This is wonderful. I scrolled through a few of you recent ones and this really appealed to me. The fox poisoning its cub was a superb simile. Your style of writing is extremely articulate .
    Frankly I have a lot to learn from the structuring of your poem. I’ve seen different forms and all are perfectly suited for the theme.
    Keep exploring the South Indian theme and keep creating art. Xoxo.
    Isn’t it as though I’m a diamond? Saving you from the spelling Nazis. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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