"My Teardrops are Fireballs aimed at The Castles"
- a poem collection by Kamila Batavia
My Teardrops Are Fireballs Aimed at the Castles is a collection of quiet uprisings; poems born from memory, longing, and silent defiance. Each verse is a fragment of Kamila Batavia’s inner terrain, where sorrow softens into beauty, and fragility burns with quiet strength.
These are not just poems; they are relics of feeling, carried like embers through time.
End of Summer (2019)
Glistening two green tourmalines stare into the ocean
A figure of a man that causes a tidal wave of emotions
The train of thoughts that never reaches the finish line
The dreams that withered on the vine
Summer ends with you leaving me behind and the tinkle of wind chimes at noontime
- Kamila Batavia
Rose Palette (2019)
Rose palette on the cabinet,
made of porcelain from Tibet,
Rose palette, prussian blue,
I painted a picture of you.
Blithesome summer days,
to the rhythm we slow danced,
With pride on your shoulders,
your tender kisses last forever.
Riding in a hansom,
beneath the cherry blossoms,
Leaning forlornly on the window,
“Now is the time for me to go.”
You wore blue velvet with gold lace,
a mature captain of solace,
inheriting a beauteous face,
taking over the vessel on ocean’s surface.
Hurls of waves, emotional distress,
I stood on the beach in scarlet dress.
In my palms died a nosegay of daisy,
When will you return to me?
Empty chambers and vacant study,
I gathered dead flowers in a posy.
Laying on the bed, putting the fire out in the lantern,
Tonight and ahead, I might die of concern.
My rose palette broke in two,
I couldn’t finish my painting of you.
Our rose palette, dark pitch-black,
I heard, you wont be coming back.
- Kamila Batavia
Garden Path (2019)
I recall
The rose peonies on your cheeks
Long hair as blonde as corn silk
You casted the ghastly winter away
By the door, we welcomed the warmest night of summer
My white daisy in the Spring,
In my ears, I hear you sing
among the roar of thunders and the lash of waves that came as a salvation
Salvation
Salvation for my sins
For leading you up the garden path filled with thorns and enclosed by hogweeds
Lethality, adversity, serenity combined
For living the lies of modernity and deadly passions
Morning kisses a thousand times
Insatiable how a grown man can become
I still demand more of your tenderness
To be the core of your universe
Forgive me for the man I have become
We danced, kissed, and loved in the most wrong space of time
The world is of resentment and deceit!
My chest ignites like a fire
At death's door above the salt water
My companion is around, sipping the tea.
He patiently waits for me to come, holding the key.
I wish you'd lie next to me.
- Kamila Batavia