Showing posts with label Freeverse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freeverse. Show all posts
June 15, 2012

The Perfect Ex - Romantic Friday Writers

Had to enter the fray, since this will be the last RFW entry till August for me.

Based on the prompt of the same name as the title, a story or poem in 400 words or less.

Puts away his clothes as usual.
the routine followed each night,
He stands by, saying nothing.
Adjusts the covers on the queen sized bed,
another of those things to be done,
 aware of his eyes on the movements made.

That night, they lie down together one last time.
she knows, he knows, pretend otherwise.
Hold her hand, promising another string of lies,
she believed them often, now, not one.

The dark, sleepless hours seem never ending,
her courage peaks and wanes.
The dawn should bring respite for both,
 She, for once, no longer plays
the imperfect specimen of the wife,
embarking on the new journey of a perfect ex.

Lost in the pride of his invincibility,
a blind heart in denial of the inevitability.
These six weeks past mark her revenge
 a small price for the six years he has stolen.

The house is clean, the fridge is stocked,
the dinner awaits him on the dining table,
most of her things, he claimed took valuable space,
gone from this house empty of her footsteps.
All that remain are the few material pieces
he boasted to be acts of needless generosity.

She leaves behind memories of the past,
could choke and strangle any feeling mortal.
 Takes along enough of a future,
 no share or meddling by him, afraid not, any more.

 wc 217



For Romantic Friday writers



Writing after a fortnight was tough, I struggled and barely pulled through.

I posted this just about managing to keep the friday score. Will be visiting the others tomo and also those kind ones that read my previous post.



May 04, 2012

lost dreams


Decadent thoughts blight
the once beautiful

Life's rewards for 
 the faithful's watch.

Floating on dark, gloomy
 waters of humanity

A constant struggle 
against the inevitable sinking.

Pressures, now stilled
rechanneled to naively targets

This bloated carnival
awaits the recycling order.

April 20, 2012

RandomMusings For The Day #47 and Some Verses Thrown In

How is it that despite child proofing your home to the best of your abilities, they find a way to injure themselves??


Decadent thoughts blight
the once beautiful

Life's rewards for 
 the faithful's watch.

Floating on dark, gloomy
 waters of humanity

A constant struggle 
against the inevitable sinking.

Pressures, now stilled
rechanneled to naively targets

This bloated carnival
awaits the recycling order.




* The poem's inspired by a fantastic picture found Here in Dreamstime.
February 06, 2012

Familiar Srangers



Walking on this beach road
finds you often in the opposite direction
a contagious smile from you face to me
a tiny wave acknowledges our presence
names we know not or our safe havens
our lives - a mystery,  seek not to unravel
a few seconds of friendly gestures
is all we are happy to share
cheering up my mornings 
soothing moments soon
forgotten in the chaos of the day.         



(the memory of walking on Worli sea face with Aunty got me thinking)
February 05, 2012

Valentine Not!

Desire seeks you in vain
loneliness unsettled on the rocking chair.


Pretending seems to no avail
the body's longings will not quail.


How wrong is it to seek
the pleasures of a mortal existence?


Hidden behind placid, lifeless eyes
beats a heart with bridled, strapped passion.


Lost in this crowd of twos and fours
this single woman aches for warm arms to hold.
                          
February 02, 2012

Eluding?

Silent prayers for
success that eludes.
Journey back and forth
on an ever changing road.

Doing whatever it takes
to make time stop still,
if only for a few moments.
To gather baggage and quilt 
to trudge across the finishing line.
The one, that loves playing  vile tricks,
further down the road, it, forever spins.
Proclaim myself victorious,
 to find obstacles strewn across,
 newer, stronger, unexpected.

 Blasphemous messages to ancestors gone,
 return, unheard,
The mocking Gods roll over in mirth,
pointing at this "puny human" in distress.


December 13, 2011

Sinking In Memories

Image by Mostafa Habibi

Mired in dreams
unpleasant to boot,
nostalgia uncurls her ugly fingers
leaving me craving 
for the lost moment in heaven.

Digging deeper into the recent past, 
opens unhealed wounds best wrapped up
 in comforting voices and clicking keyboards

 The clouds beckon the bout of tears,
 plummeting self amidst the sea of callous
this ride will last a while
till the boatman finally comes by.














November 22, 2011

I Dream About

Being able to say 


what you want to


without the "voice" at the back


reminding, 


someone is sure to get offended.






Putting those words on  paper 


before she says "lights out".


prose or verse doesn't matter 


as long as a part of me, thoughts


and emotions get reflected.






That scene that would make for 


images to come back to,


the vision needed to enable


those pictures speak a thousand words.






These tiny dreams are for everyday


to breathe and sustain.


the bigger ones remain elusive


food, water, clothes; 


the three basics for all.


throw in some shelter, 


a bit of education and some empathy,


sisterhood and peace


to make others dreams come true.








"This post is an entry at Blogjunta Dreams Contest  judged by Jyoti Arora, author of Dream's Sake" won the third spot. ;)





September 27, 2011

An Incantation

The stairway to heaven 
wouldn't find use here
needs, darker than a black soul
lost in the empty pages of time
forgotten lives for the killing
my soul seeks you Lucifer 
entwined, entombed serpent coils
Embrace the vile in me and rejuvenate




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.








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?





July 18, 2011

The Watchers

She stood there, watching
the face break into giggles and squeals, 
 brow scrunched in intense concentration,
 a voice that hummed along soft strains
merry feet and giddy moves, 

He stood there watching
the sleep laden lids struggling,
the once palpitating heart, breaking
the listless body drifting
monologues and arguments in emptiness.

They hung there as they always had
through changing walls and rooms
the silent sentinels musing over
the ever changing fortunes
of their mistress and her lady luck.




 painting whispers


 ( based on this glass painting of  RadhaKrishna that my cousin sister Nimmi 
made and gifted for my first wedding anniv. 
 A decade, three cities, a dead relationship later; they still hang on, my precious gift)









June 06, 2011

White Wizard



White Wizard, 
He's going away,
White Wizard,
Can't you make him stay?
All this time you were around,
Silent and Eager, Quiet and Strong.
Took for granted all the moments
Now long gone just memories
Of our unfinished song.
There you were
When need made me cling..
Its a crime, a crying shame,
That fear made me let go
Of what was mine...

First there was Fate,
And then there were Rules,
Strangers both to 
One's that choose.
One sealed my lips,
The other crushed my soul,
Together tormenting, 
Never for a moment apart.

Desperate mind that never knew,
Hell it would be,
To live without you.
Wishful thinking of a foolish heart,
Things would change..
Tonight the stars will shine'
Tomorrow the sun will rise again....


(This was inspired by the song White Demon - The Killers)


May 26, 2011

Exhilaration

A normal (rainy) day in Bangalore.
Cloudy thunder


dark lightning

wind swept

the heralds of the end



droplets soft

tinkling splashes

gently seeps

the wetness beckons



face drips 

neck goosebumps

back tickles

arms outstretched standing



primal smell

alluring scent

delectable fragrance

parched earth first shower



laughing mouths

dancing eyes

sloshing feet

puddles seem cool



cleansed body

invigorated mind

rejuvenated soul

the rain gods smile.











May 16, 2011

Adventures Inc

Dull cloudy Friday, was it the 13th?

It tantalised and teased,
Started off easy enough as
they port keyed in, screaming for dear life
landing on a pissed off Jill

Scampering on to tumble into Humpty dumpty....
The king’s men chasing the hungry souls
to a witch selling hot cross buns
For the lad and wench, she simpered....
too tired to deny, no galleons to exchange
a silver ring for passage paid...

The stone doors creaked wide
King Arthur and his knights rode astride,
curtsied in jeans and tops
snitched off pastries from the festive lot...
dozing off to find themselves squeezed
 in the Mad Hatter’s chair.

Barely escaped to be waylaid by hunting orcs
the side trip to middle earth all her fault...
Hiding under the great oak in time to watch
the huntsman dragging a pale Snow White.
She managed to catch her errant champ
Muttering “yea might be mistaken for
the prince, the way you wince!”

The Grey bad wolf chasing Red Riding Hood
acted as the last straw....clutching at the star
to be at the place they were before.
She clamped the clasps shut,
tiny hands adding their strength
against an unrelenting Giant; 
standing on the Beanstalk.

The brave girl threw it in the air watching
it slide back against its nature
to the dark corner of the ancient shelf
Rubbing his hands free of the dust, he said
"these tomes are not for the faint hearted, Aunt"
 Slunk away together; one to her Barbie Doll, 
the other to watch "Lighting McQueen" nitro boost away;
the third fast asleep on her lap 
oblivious of the preceding chaos and mishaps.

*My silly take for my Muses- my nephews Sidartha and Akshay and niece Aishwarya
* Jack Edward's poem on the Zodiac had me thinking if I could go something similar.


April 25, 2011

Unstable Undetected??




Glances here, there, everywhere


pain, heartache never ending, relentless...






A brewing storm, clutching at ribs,


Dragon's fire - belching bolts


the heart asunder.


 dull eyes, shimmer less gaze,


blank stares, sees no face


tethering on the edge, 


thin line divides


sanity and craze.






Bright lights invisible


to all save one


pulls on, farther away.


mind craves, falters, yields to


the cold caress of light and dark in turn


echoing laughter off the wall, rebounds.






Flowing torrent as sudden as death,


dim recognition fails, gone for now,


 in the blink of an eye.





April 14, 2011

Kafkaesque Love




The starry night,
a red moon crescent,
the rhythm unfolds...
take a step forward
with fresh hope lingering
warily, the distance kept
the tables turned abrupt
 the warrior sizing me up
a cruel smile, a rough tumble,
beaten, retreat into the cocoon.


Now it’s you, stepping
 on the invisible line
pushing, prodding,
in disturbing waves
another piece of my heart
on the floor stomped,
the bright red blood
trickling under your
hob nailed shoes.



Dawn and momentary succour
to gather dense thoughts
find the will to break free
from the obsessed, maniacal
gaze you bestow.



Footfalls of the evening
all in vain
This submission of  mine*
Still could be the death of me*
To the dance floor we take
long ago willingly
often now at your behest.

 Another twirl, another piece broken
till I can leave
without a backward glance.
Until you, someday,
 see me for myself
Our love story not,
nor hints of normalcy,
the makings of a tragedy.

{Written 6 yrs ago, except for the * lines added recently.... :) }





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