August 28, 2011

Child's Play


*Tried an Acrostic after a long time.....using each succeeding alphabet of the prompt as the first letter of the lines of the verse.



“Surprise!!  I’m pregnant”


From photobucket
Said the report; the Gynec, sad frown
Utter silence across the table
Reminiscent; ashen faces, of cremation grounds
People once friendly,
Rendered snickering gossips
Infatuation at 12, paid bitter price
School authorities bid nasty goodbye
“Egg rotten, spoils the entire set”, they proclaimed.


Insensitive relatives advise,
Admonished parents, for letting things slide,
Mother calls her a harlot now....


Ponder how a child is begotten,
Remember it takes two to tango...
Ensure censure for other’s fault
Given leeway, playing the field
New victim to warm his worn bed
Allowing him to deny
Not justice decreed
Tonight she sleeps...tomorrow....

*based on a news heard....12 yrs old should be enjoying childhood...but T.V, movies make them
indulge in reckless behaviour....


* My heart goes out to the 12 year old, especially with no schooling for now, living in a traditional society she has a tough life ahead.


Would you like to see this as a poem or as a 100 word story?

August 24, 2011

An Interview With A .....

Tonight we meet the reclusive authoress of 'If I die Young'.
"Welcome. Can you tell us what inspired the book and the thrilling storyline?"

Rasping in a soft voice, unblinking gaze, “Readers would know that it is based on out of body experiences, my own."


Red faced for a quick second before plunging forward, 
"Can you elaborate for the ones who haven't been able to grab a copy yet?"



 A maniacal gleam in the eye that turns the tomato hues to purple, a euphorical, "the young, such noble sacrifice...so soft and delicate, wonderful shades too. The best picks are the ones between 18 and 22...skin begging to be turned robes, an artist's delight. For a guy, yours is pretty soft too!!"
Reaching for the purse on the table, eyes on a particular man in the audience who nods his compliance.



"Someone call the cops" the last screams heard, before the studio turns dark and quiet...





*The title has been borrowed from "An interview with a vampire", lest poor me gets charged for copyright violation.

*Modern reality shows with emphasis on questionable, inappropriate behaviour, spouting corrupt role models and our infatuation with this disturbing phenomena prompted this piece.
*I have tried to keep it PG...apologise if it offends any one's sensibilities.
August 22, 2011

Wave The Flag

Ignite the fire, 


the blue of transparency


Let the streets burn 


in the fierceness of your passion


The mighty cower and hide


covering their tracks in vain


People's power where it truly belongs


not in the hungry corridors of parliament


 in you and me who put them there


Not for avarice and mindless ego trips 


 to make our lives a better fare.


Remind them time and again


 of the people, by the people, for the people


 is still the clarion call of Democracy




* This is my BLUE contribution to the fight against corruption - a people's movement that has erupted all across India, asking their elected representatives not to forget what they are here for.








Wave The Flag

Ignite the fire, 
the blue of transparency
Let the streets burn 
in the fierceness of your passion
The mighty cower and hide
covering their tracks in vain
People's power where it truly belongs
not in the hungry corridors of parliament
 in you and me who put them there
Not for avarice and mindless ego trips 
 to make our lives a better fare.
Remind them time and again
 of the people, by the people, for the people
 is still the clarion call of Democracy








* This is my BLUE contribution to the fight against corruption - a people's movement that has erupted all across India, asking their elected representatives not to forget what they are here for.


For Jinksy In Tandem 6Gooseberry Goes Poetic

August 08, 2011

My Story







S
miled again, rather
Grimaces in pain
The spotlight never her thing.
Millions of eyes, ears,
mouths and hands
Dissecting the enigma
On the canvas.



If portraits could
Speak their minds
As do in Hogwarts...
My face would
Mesmerise no longer.


The long hours,
Aching limbs,
Stretched endurance
Worth the while.
Few stolen moments ,
A valid excuse,
Bought at heavy price
Of heartache and heart break.



Throw a curve ball
That proclaimed
The furrowed brows,
Pigment stained fingers
Dipping onto the palette
Belonged to the one
My secret love.
The man belonging
with the world but
never with any one.



Do you Like this as a poem or a 100 word story?





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