Anubhav Srivastava   (a foreplay of letters)
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Sailor by profession.
Joined 9 September 2016

Sailor by profession.
Joined 9 September 2016
31 AUG 2019 AT 21:24

' Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? And even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart, I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror..every angel is terrifying '

- Rainer Maria Rilke


3 JUN 2019 AT 18:17

it is how in our silence
things came into being
when we walked past each other
stifling with words.
it is how the thread of time
wraps itself around our feet
and it is how I rage
at its thirsty motion,
that I forgive the whiskey
and the things it does to me


11 MAY 2019 AT 19:46

Leave me, if you must
in the longing of wildflowers
in your mind
in a warm glade
somewhere in the meadows of your eyes
and the far,
far and deep waters of our time


16 JAN 2019 AT 1:43

As the plane tilts and descends
over (y)our city
a swarming sea of lights
takes over the sight,
and I've heard of one
that was lit on a porch
of a house some hundred poems old..
they say the light burns all day and night
and sometimes
a strang smoke seeps out the shut windows
as if words finally learnt
the weight of their burns,
the mud of the garden
smells like freshly ploughed grief.


7 JAN 2019 AT 14:16

/ child /


6 JAN 2019 AT 19:11

Say I frame many sentences. Say I just write a word : Bluebird, put in an envelope, tie a yellow ribbon and send it to you.


30 DEC 2018 AT 20:29

and I could love you
I could break in it too
and I'd do it all like the sea:
lush with blueness.


25 DEC 2018 AT 22:25

What must be asked

If you had it
all that you ache for
that which makes you yearn

Would it still consume your heart the same


9 DEC 2018 AT 23:26

I crave the simple things
like when at 8 pm I find a pub
and drink up the sea in my glass of whiskey.
I look in front and if there's a face
I want it to be yours.
That of other's are distraction.
Beautiful colorful creatures
feeding an existence I have made.
With you I am the existence I am.
But that existence often comes with heavy eyes
thristy hands
a bluebird trying to drown out
the flapping of a crow's dark wings.

But you need a light,
you want a light
And I mostly spoke like brooding oceans
and smoke.


24 NOV 2018 AT 1:29

I'd like to show you the places in my mind.
You, who were in my sight for such a short time.
And before I saw you
had already formed into vast images.

What must I do with these flowers beneath my heart?

Not looking at you
is like a field of snow inside my eyes.
Out there far beyond
in your city
there are immense memories
that appear in a park, a bookstore
or a shop you passed by
where the mirrors went shimmering
with your presence.
And here in my world I search for you
with a chest full of breeze
and arms full of sea washed nights.


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