She… My desire… My illusion

drawing her figure, on canvas of my mind, I lost the rest of her

she sat straight while I stared at her, and when she noticed, I looked away

writing her premise on my wrist with finger quill, I breathed her in

she stood up to leave, twirling her curls; I followed motion of her feet

yearning for her to look back at me, I gulped in rapid drinks of air

she was gone, leaving a trail behind, of her lilac, orange perfume

reclining on the couch, I surmised the baffling curves of her stature

she didn’t appear again, it was the very last I had seen of her

cradling the memory of her image, I hide behind the red drape

she was some one I had desired, but never accepted, it wasn’t love

silencing sound of her laughter, I manipulate myself to sleep

she is somewhere thriving in fine arts, suturing me to random past

reminiscing, I grieve to grudge her, shriek to spite her, dream to daunt her

she reflected a beautiful picture of what could have been crafted

I couldn’t sleep when I had her; I can’t after I had deserted her

she was hoping to be the pivotal pain of my hurtful hard heart

I had an idea, what she was, who she was, she was never been

she was rupturing the nerves of my thought; she wanted me to want her

I didn’t, she was exasperated, she left, she went far, she was gone

she left a trail before which I bowed, the sands of which I kissed for long

I change sides, changing sides, here and there, right and left, I am destitute

she took revenge, I let her go, she let me become a living dead

now Erato winks at my stimulated prudence, I embrace her

but she is an illusion, I have my arms crossed over my shoulders

.

The prompt today at dVerse is to write American Sentences. It is a poetic form created by Allen Ginsberg. The sentences above could be read separately(the reason why I didn’t put punctuation at the end of each one of them) or otherwise together as a single poem.

This is tagged as the poem for 15 November for NaBloPoMo. I have written 15 poems by far this month… to check them all out, just drag your cursor to the drop-down menu above, Home, beneath which you would find the category by the name of Poetry and within which there is the category of NaBloPoMo.

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26 thoughts on “She… My desire… My illusion

  1. I do like the story you wrote here, HA. Very dream-like and somewhat ethereal. I am glad she turned out to be an illusion!

    (I also did not want to write random sentences.)

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  2. nice… a whole story in american sentences….her lilac, orange perfume… makes me wonder how that smells.. i find it most intriguing if a scent is connected with a color…nice…one of the ingredients of my perfume is pink pepper

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  3. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Anmol, I tip my quill to you def for sure; you wrote 24 separate American Haiku, all perfect, all as one incredible run-on Faulkner-like Bear sentence, all related & interlinked. My attempt had a dozen sentences, but your effort dwarfed the rest; my fave for today, sir.

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  4. This is ambitious and really well realized. As I read it, I understood why you used past tense (and in some places past perfect) – I would recommend re-writing in present tense to the extent possible and see whether you like the change that results. I think you will find it will read faster and make the reader feel quicker; however, that may not be the thing you are going for. There is a contemplative, grieving tone to this as is. Well done!

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