3WWW - Whisper, Faith, Miracle
Two
Hearts
Held together
By whispers on the lips,
Of faith
As they pour into each other
Beyond all wafts of reality
They rise to a miracle of togetherness
Melt to an ecstatic, warm
One
Enemy of the night, rose
to shatter to smithereens,
the darkness that shadowed vague,
thrown thoughts, strewn by the storm
Dawn set in and cracked the chill
Finally, we awakened
The ball of fire rising inside us, as well
Diverse many, brought together
Thinking one thought, in one language
Ready to end the killer of peace
Ready to bring on a new beginning
A beginning, as One.
This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.
3WW - Apology, Consider, Distant
He got off his bike and dashed to the facade of his work-house;
House, yes, he spent most of his time there keeping at
carving a place for himself in the corporate history,
to be known, to be seen, even from the moon...
His jog stance hardly matched his striking black formal suit
Otherwise a sucker for class, he could not thwart
the rather clumsy verb he was then indulged in
With only about five minutes to get to his office swipe point
style or even a drift that way seemed distant
He ignored the elevator and hopped up the stairs
Zipped past the receptionist, not forgetting to flash a smile
It was his way of expressing thanks to the silent,
amused one-man audience of his everyday nick-of-time drama
He skid to a stop at the door, knowing as he swiped
that all the tussle had been in vain, a speculator that he was,
by profession and now, out of a recessive kip,
late. By a cascaded minute; ‘Damn!!!!’ he whined, stopping abruptly
as if he would continue tomorrow..
He walked in, anyway; actually, that being the only way
With his feet not on the ground, almost
He got to his workstation in inconspicuous strides
a couple of minutes to settle in, to boot
For the next long minute he considered how his toil for identity
despite his versatility, people person-ness et al
was sidestepped by this period of effortless foot dragging.
He raised his bottle like a ritual and gulped down the water ,
feeling it slide down his throat, wetting the dryness
caused by a moisture less apology that was strewn by guilt
flushing down the vice that won today, again
in the race seeking to win the identity crisis;
the go-getter in him was NOT going to be known as the latecomer.
Prompt: A poem based on 'ode to the body'
Loyal couples on my body
So near, yet so far
from each other; even so
growing or getting smaller in happy duets
with nothing to choose between them
their sync keeps me ‘poised’ too!
* I am so glad that our hands, legs...get bigger or smaller in exactly similar proportions. Dare to imagine otherwise?! :)
Monday Mural - Birds & Monday Poetry Train
I love to see the birds fly;
the family unions, the solitary soars
I shut my eyes, my imagination flying riot
and there I was, on cloud nine... literally
I bathed in the glory of infinite independence
It gave me a high; higher than any other
With no laid ways and no destination, I flew, on a mysteriously invisible path
that revealed itself up as I flew, for no one to follow
I flew a peacefully smooth, sweeping flight
with nothing to hold except my light self
I expected nothing too
and that nothingness was fulfilling, addictive...
Then they came - The clan.
Invites are not expressed in this world above the world
I joined them, aligning with their rhythm;
their peace and poise well preserved.
As we soared high like one family, we were so full
of easy, language-less harmony;
The world, with all its pain and glory, was under our feet
and was nothing much.
Retiring after a hard day’s work, I glided on to the satin sheets of my bed
sleep craved, yet swirling and curling on the smooth covers of the solo strife-less delight in my life
I felt dizzy; the lullaby of the velvety peace drowned
by the emotional turbulent ride I had had that day
I wondered how even a royal smoothness was not enough
to pamper me to slip into a state of blissful ignorance, a melting unconsciousness
And how even when in the thick of indulgence
I felt naked and exposed to the darkness;
the overpowering obscurity that scared me when I was awake
I was tired, mentally and physically; usually, getting to such a brink would do
The fall would occur by itself, as though some invisible guardian hands
gave me a soft nudge; where is my guardian today? Where are those motherly hands?
Oh, maybe those invisible hands haven’t recognised me yet
I was veiled, by the thoughts that disturbed my undisturbed fantasy
I undressed; stripping off the burdening veil with some difficulty
the estrangement disseminated into the darkness, losing its form
And there they were; those reassuring, motherly hands of hope
tenderly caressing my back, shaming my sleepless yearning
I silently and happily slid away from the spiny reality
falling into a deep, deep air of serenity;
Whispering a soft, slumbered thanks;
I drifted into a light nothingness, cocooned in the silky indulgence of hope for a brand new dawn..
* On teeth - an earlier post, courtesy the Sunday Scribblings 'Fridge Space' prompt (following the 'Too Late' post) - A Forthright Mock
Friday 5 - Skew, Foreign, Wailing, Travel, Arithmetic
Theme: Someone moves the end
The skew occurs every time
in her economics, with not one flattening twist
Still, the start recurs, religiously regular;
her travel to the casino covertly planned out
and all the moves-arithmetic flawlessly worked out
by our gullible beauty; and the hungry beasts
yet, again this time, devoured in a not-so-foreign fashion
Until her last wailing penny
And our lady as usual, felt that kick in the teeth
As though someone, from nowhere, moved the end;
Those flashy machines had taken her for a ride
one more time; but our lady is no dark horse
and she will not end her affair
with luck; she still strokes with fiscal feathers
those that glitters, those that will give her gold
play on, she will, until she gets too old..
* i do not gamble; i have only seen a casino when on a tour schedule! :) This is a totally imaginative poem; to give the readers a light, enjoyable read..hopefully that is!
I say... and you think...? Week 262
Luxurious :: Right now, the distance between me & my man getting to a ruling zilch is more luxurious than the getting together of all luxuries in the world into one sugary swirl and it is the one luxury I ever, would ever want. With that in place, I do not mind if the other luxurious thingies in the world share a roof with me; I am generally a very generous soul.
Party :: My sexy party bag, which I haven’t had a chance to use since I got it six months back... Moral of the story? Well, i just haven’t had the chance to make any waves! Blankness in the Page 3 of my life’s journal right now is the scoop & THAT is not even a typo!
Limited edition :: Sheer class! Indulging exclusivity is my style preference. Strict NO to clones!! And hey, I am a glad ritzy limited edition too! (5’3’’ ONLY in this whole wide world & over!!)
Security :: Made me rake my brain so much, this word...yet i feel totally blank...i can’t be bothered more.
Betty :: One of my two best friends from college – beautiful Betty. One strong woman; stronger than she thinks she is. We live thousands of miles apart; yet whenever we meet it seems like a happy routine. Lovely wife, doting mom and to me...she’s a mind reader, propeller, my ego...She sort of seems to home a multiple personality disorder (!) only to whip me softly back to order. The possibilities of personality are endless & she never ceases to try. I love her for what she is. And yeah, the Management guy – how can i forget him, her romantic extension who’s turned this apparently hard-nut-to-crack rough chic a little bit slushy; kudos to him. He’s definitely come through as a most successful CEO. Yet, at home, it's not him at the top most rung neither it is Betty; their adorable chief keeps them on their toes - Rhea!
Under construction :: My Love. For my family – present & future. Having the instinctive, inherent kit of beat & pulse, for laying a strong foundation, I will go on to leave no stone unturned in getting this concrete high, higher & higher & higher... My love is vastly spacious, accommodative, serviced, well ventilated, lush and lifts to a sky scraping high, perhaps even past the windows of Zeus.
Pest :: Mosquitoes, dead & bloody on my skin – I killed them in a slap. Earlier, I used to feel very sorry not wanting to hit them; but now I have evolved & my survival instincts have taken over me. These rascals of suckers have pricked my peace out of me! Invaded my privacy, my flow of thoughts, don’t let me sleep or even lounge in peace, causing pain with no corresponding visible / even invisible gain & seem to be f***ing multiplying (pun intended!) by the nano second in our city – enough motive for a murderer! Is the mayor flipping (euphemism, you see...) anaemic or something? Or perhaps, an alien!
Okay, IT'S A WRAP!
Ok, now, i hate to write sad, serious stuff. So, this silly re-take was irresistible - i HAD to make up ...
A Forthright Mock
My pearly white gates had a gap in between, with the taller pivotal twins in the centre literally being the cynosure. I liked their independent nature though - a resolute pair indeed; if they set themselves on something, you could definitely say they set their teeth on it! Quite inspiring, at times. They knew that I owned them; I could knock them off if they didn’t behave or annoyed me too much. Yet they would go on, unabashed, with their drools & scraping wordy endeavours. They always played good doubles – serving, scraping, biting & rabbitting on! Their attempts were sometimes complying & sometimes amusing, that is, if I am not in the bite-me-not mood. Today, these assertive iconoclasts seemd to be in their lazy best as they spun my words to the assistant architect - “we need to visit the bridge space before uploading stuff on to the site, lest that it gets overloaded”, to a mock feat; my lippy bunny teeth sounded out “we need to visit the fffridge spface fefore upfloading stuff on to the site, lest that it gets overloaded” and joined an amused assistant in looking ‘down’ on my arrogant paunch in silent giggles...
3WW - Bridge, Disturbed, Still
Water
Glittery, enlivener
Witnessing, understanding, uplifting
the bridge-walkers; sometimes disturbed yet
Still
 | |
This Week’s Theme: [Fiction] Friday Challenge for February, 1 2008:Your character was lost in her own thoughts. When she snaps back to reality, she realizes she was singing out loud. Unfortunately, she wasn't somewhere private. How embarrassing... Take it from there. Here’s the text - As he relieved himself of the over ballooned up pressure, the sssing almost sounded like an unaccompanied symphony. He couldn’t help but lend his vocals to it, frittering away the silence (sans the freedom-at-last sounds from ‘co-equals’) and the gentleness in the hotel’s gentlemen room. As the pressure eased, the humming turned to a happy let-loose singing; high pitched & attempting to follow the patterns of the piss. The ‘peers’ shocked, temporarily stopped meditating on addressing their calls and looked at him, some puzzled and some amused and all stunned, more by his wrap-up pissing in circles that pissed away the annoying off-track out-of-closet hum. For some of the 'audience' of the 'theatre', the pressure relayed on, reincarnating as a pressure to crack-up. With a loud ‘Awww! Do ALL good things have to come to an end?’, he pulled his zip up, casually glancing around to spot potential ‘competitors’. Only then did he actually feel those about five to six pairs of unblinking eyes, with accompanied half-open mouths, eating him up raw with their ‘DUH!!!!’ looks. He wanted to disappear. Quietly, he performed the ensuing formalities, not wanting to be ‘duh’ed more for his lack of ‘loo manners’ and went to the dryer wishing it worked on coal and that the smoke it spits out would give him a clandestine cover to slither out of the room. But no, it seemed a long minute and he glided out the door pretending to take a call, introducing him as the ‘Designer’ for a fee. It seemed to sound like a ‘de-singer for a pee’.. | |
| get the Fiction Friday code | about Fiction Friday |
Technorati tags:  fiction, fiction friday | |
Desire
My instinctive urge of foreplay overtook me
I looked into his eyes; holding the love air, a willing captive
Our lips met - his sweet, addictive taste filled my insatiable mouth
I laid my head on his bare chest, melting in ‘us’...
I could hear the rhythm playing his unspoken desires
As we soared in sync, in the indulgence of the revealed
We slowly but gradually, drifted to an unbelievable high
A high that liberated us from all things worldly, for that moment...
Monday Poetry Train
Strokes of colours staged on her cheek
painty gloss making her lips like silk
Riot of tints played on, splashing
dainty affair, a double date to seek
Then one frozen day, pushed to the lip of solitude
tears on her pale cheek wet their celebration nude
No sign of colour, no dance of hues
rainbow in black & white, streaked their blues
With bare cheek, dew drops sashaying
she rose, like an art in need of price
After years of craving, the homecoming was born
she ran towards her warrior, her colour, he had won
Isolation melting in his awe struck eyes
they embraced like no tomorrow
He looked at her, love & pride on a high
kissed on her cheek lapping up the dew
She blushed so pink; an effortless pink
as they won their love, conquered time & hues...
