Poems by Hima Bindu Kopally
A need to slit that heart, to peek and see;
and watch how the words flow out from that bilingual brain to the heart of thee.
Wait until wounds reach the air,
for it to mix in and to device the emotions to flair.
There’s no warning, for I’ve already slit your heart,
Along the lines of how you’ve made a shelter in my part.
Knowing the presence as it is,
and with heightened senses edging to know better.
To see your extents of imagination,
my array of entities strays after.
I summon the hints!
While you overpower me with them.
What makes you, makes me;
but undo not what you’ve said, consequences harsh shall be.
Under stars you’ve lived under;
and air we’ve breathed together.
There are also stars which have diminished and deceased
and some, fledging to believe.
Consider the present train of thought only,
for tomorrow is a new day.
I might not be alone
while you might wander with your muses abound.
I want to slit that heart and see,
what’s the night that’s meant to be.
While crossing your breaths, running out of air to give,
thriving off my soul, in spite of your will to live.
Et tu Brute?
Being a mortal, a mere one with twisted wishes:
I ask thou, is it too much to ask, to only banish;
Vulnerability, is for the unhealthy and imbalanced.
While, the force of self struggles to make it to nonchalance?
I've asked not for much,
But to remove the self-indulgent, materialistic views.
For you know, they're the ones;
Are they the bombastic hues?
I request thee, to get me through all the emotion,
but, let alone foolish susceptibility.
I request, only but such notions,
Always being prescient about contriving maleficent.
What burgeoning tasks have I ever committed?
To forgo such vast egotistical views;
Step down from the transcend of edit,
and undergo such abdominal cuts and pastes with dues?
Oh no, I shall riot not against,
for peace is an ultimatum
but devoted I shall be,
to those understanding the importance.
Hurry, because it's all collaborating towards a dictum.
Or it shall all collapse, being dysfunct.
Is it already one?
Or have I been blinded, ahoy the framework's done!
In the end, even you became a buttress,
Turned, while tuning to sorts of anger and marginal prowess.
Bellicose, belie, bellow, blunder!
Throughput, trapped, tacit, not thunder!
I ask, only and only to find enlightenment,
Even you? After all this time of harm?
Even you? After all this time of deference?
Et tu? After all thy time of my loveth?
Then, I shall relieve,
of all that's bounding.
I shall free the means of all belief,
I shall; I am, vaporizing.