#review #emywrites #poetry
Isolated Bird
If voices were visible; this would be a beautiful rose petal,
That glimmers like diamond as sunlight spills down from above.
Her voice awakes me every morning,
With a beautiful view of her through my window ledge.
Her soul is encaged; her heart is frozen.
Numbing painless pain with her feathers.
Her heart beats so fast like the Jazz beat,
Of her wings afraid of flapping in the air.
Before I leave my room, I'll listen to her complaint,
Craving of her mother's dream of her to fly,
High above the sky on fledge able wings,
Flapping her wings with others in the sky.
What happened to the tied wings?
Cease flying or afraid of the breeze;
Wailing like ebb and flow of the sea.
Or the edge of slivering gold in the sky.
Bird of nothingness craving umptiness.
This chirping bird won't stop singing in pain.
Her love to fly is high above mountain Everest.
What could she have done, if she has wings?
Why shivering in silence?
Sitting at the edge of despair on my window ledge,
Waiting and watching the inch step of an ant.
Looking so shattered like a heart broken glass.
Griping bird wanting to fly and ascend the sky
To feel the breeze beneath her wings.
Every bird is born to fly; but not every bird is born with wing,
What's her beauty without the wings?
But her estrangement brings me joy and comfort,
Her voice of loneliness heard to distant hill.
Joy of her melodious voice on her wings clipped,
Singing for freedom on her feet tied.
Dear bird! The sky blue symbolizes the calm color of your skin,
The cloud whiteness typify the innocence of your heart,
The stars glimmering represent the shining beauty of your voice,
Allow the feather of hope perches in your soul.
Isolated Bird
If voices were visible; this would be a beautiful rose petal,
That glimmers like diamond as sunlight spills down from above.
Her voice awakes me every morning,
With a beautiful view of her through my window ledge.
Her soul is encaged; her heart is frozen.
Numbing painless pain with her feathers.
Her heart beats so fast like the Jazz beat,
Of her wings afraid of flapping in the air.
Before I leave my room, I'll listen to her complaint,
Craving of her mother's dream of her to fly,
High above the sky on fledge able wings,
Flapping her wings with others in the sky.
What happened to the tied wings?
Cease flying or afraid of the breeze;
Wailing like ebb and flow of the sea.
Or the edge of slivering gold in the sky.
Bird of nothingness craving umptiness.
This chirping bird won't stop singing in pain.
Her love to fly is high above mountain Everest.
What could she have done, if she has wings?
Why shivering in silence?
Sitting at the edge of despair on my window ledge,
Waiting and watching the inch step of an ant.
Looking so shattered like a heart broken glass.
Griping bird wanting to fly and ascend the sky
To feel the breeze beneath her wings.
Every bird is born to fly; but not every bird is born with wing,
What's her beauty without the wings?
But her estrangement brings me joy and comfort,
Her voice of loneliness heard to distant hill.
Joy of her melodious voice on her wings clipped,
Singing for freedom on her feet tied.
Dear bird! The sky blue symbolizes the calm color of your skin,
The cloud whiteness typify the innocence of your heart,
The stars glimmering represent the shining beauty of your voice,
Allow the feather of hope perches in your soul.
(A little something inspired by the main character, Izumi Shinchi, from the anime, Parasyte The Marxim)
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain.
Like a memoir;
A narrative on skin.
Beneath the mar;
Grim mysteries lay plain.
Black as tar,
is your mind's domain.
A child you are;
Motherless you'll remain.
Her death so bizarre,
rendered you inhumane.
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain;
A grim reminder,
of the monster you contain.
#poetry
#sor3h
#review
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain.
Like a memoir;
A narrative on skin.
Beneath the mar;
Grim mysteries lay plain.
Black as tar,
is your mind's domain.
A child you are;
Motherless you'll remain.
Her death so bizarre,
rendered you inhumane.
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain;
A grim reminder,
of the monster you contain.
#poetry
#sor3h
#review
#review
#anonWrites
#prompt
#shortstory
Part 2
The night was ending and so was my energy. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly sunrise. I decided to leave and got up. I bid my mates goodnight and headed for the valet parking. The valet employee got my bike to me and I lit another cigarette for the way home. I passed through XE-10, my childhood galaxy where i could still remember my first space trip. As i was going home, i got a glimpse of few stars that were forming which was a beautiful view. The auroras coming out of them was like a child coming out of his mother's womb. Next thing I know, I was passing through galaxy AE-22 where my bike broke down and was not having much ability to reach home. I saw the planet Namek at a few light minutes away from me. I got there and it was almost midnight in that planet. The planet's environment was identical to Earth's environment. There were trees, hills, a few rivers and an ocean. I saw a cave on my way to the ground and decided to spend the night there. When I reached the cave, I lit a bonfire to keep me warm and to wary off any unwanted living beings. While I was wandering at the stars, I could hear a flock of dinosaurs at a few hundred feet away from me. They were headed in a group to the hills. I returned to the cave and decided to take a night's sleep to help my energy refill.
#anonWrites
#prompt
#shortstory
Part 2
The night was ending and so was my energy. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly sunrise. I decided to leave and got up. I bid my mates goodnight and headed for the valet parking. The valet employee got my bike to me and I lit another cigarette for the way home. I passed through XE-10, my childhood galaxy where i could still remember my first space trip. As i was going home, i got a glimpse of few stars that were forming which was a beautiful view. The auroras coming out of them was like a child coming out of his mother's womb. Next thing I know, I was passing through galaxy AE-22 where my bike broke down and was not having much ability to reach home. I saw the planet Namek at a few light minutes away from me. I got there and it was almost midnight in that planet. The planet's environment was identical to Earth's environment. There were trees, hills, a few rivers and an ocean. I saw a cave on my way to the ground and decided to spend the night there. When I reached the cave, I lit a bonfire to keep me warm and to wary off any unwanted living beings. While I was wandering at the stars, I could hear a flock of dinosaurs at a few hundred feet away from me. They were headed in a group to the hills. I returned to the cave and decided to take a night's sleep to help my energy refill.
Friends are for LIFE
Friends friends and friends
Why are they so overrated I've always wondered,
Me, being introvert with no friends, are they magicians or clowns? , have pondered.
Do they have some powers which makes us happy or any magic potions,
Can we trust them in everything and can they give me life solutions.
Always curious to know one and have
A good or best friend kind,
In whose House I can enter anytime and she won't mind.
Found her at last and got all answers
She looks nothing like hero or a clown,
But she sure helps me out of every problem and changes my expressions to smile from frown.
True friends are something lucky people can get
It's hard to maintain a bond,
It doesn't happen in a day Or after a picnic
It needs truthfulness not a magic wand.
#MuskanMishra #review
Friends friends and friends
Why are they so overrated I've always wondered,
Me, being introvert with no friends, are they magicians or clowns? , have pondered.
Do they have some powers which makes us happy or any magic potions,
Can we trust them in everything and can they give me life solutions.
Always curious to know one and have
A good or best friend kind,
In whose House I can enter anytime and she won't mind.
Found her at last and got all answers
She looks nothing like hero or a clown,
But she sure helps me out of every problem and changes my expressions to smile from frown.
True friends are something lucky people can get
It's hard to maintain a bond,
It doesn't happen in a day Or after a picnic
It needs truthfulness not a magic wand.
#MuskanMishra #review
stuck between a ludo game
playing on a broken board
o best friend! I’m stuck in the chaos
the game represented by my relationships
with each member’s role to play
and the overall result may vary in-fact
also, the winner may not be deemed to be intact!
Tattered and shattered all play their turn
and me too stranded on the way,
scared and praying till the end
for the game to go peacefully to its bay.
To all the discrepancies I come across
and pathways I have to mend;
to the obstacles, I cross over
are the hidden, invisible painful traps.
Thinking and analyzing my future steps
however, being decided by some unnatural bets;
Long to go on an unknown path I,
I think of ending it right hither, for
the unknown reason in my core.
Never the less, as would be fate,
the picture seems to fade amid bate!
I wish to have a happy end
but being unknown to how to mend,
(un)fair game all it remains
and now a broken ludo’s a sad lullaby!
#review #sakshi
playing on a broken board
o best friend! I’m stuck in the chaos
the game represented by my relationships
with each member’s role to play
and the overall result may vary in-fact
also, the winner may not be deemed to be intact!
Tattered and shattered all play their turn
and me too stranded on the way,
scared and praying till the end
for the game to go peacefully to its bay.
To all the discrepancies I come across
and pathways I have to mend;
to the obstacles, I cross over
are the hidden, invisible painful traps.
Thinking and analyzing my future steps
however, being decided by some unnatural bets;
Long to go on an unknown path I,
I think of ending it right hither, for
the unknown reason in my core.
Never the less, as would be fate,
the picture seems to fade amid bate!
I wish to have a happy end
but being unknown to how to mend,
(un)fair game all it remains
and now a broken ludo’s a sad lullaby!
#review #sakshi
I see the light as bright as a star,
Undeterred by the dark,
The world seems to give it a lot of scars,
Trying to make its mark.
It tries to shine bright than its peers,
Its dreams cannot be described in meres,
It whispers, "I fear"
After all, we all need a cheerleader,
When the world sneers.
Thoughts gushing in general,
Will I be able to shine bright as a crystal,
In the world, where I'm an ephemeral?
#review #poetry #AlishaG
This is my first poetry, hope you like it.
Undeterred by the dark,
The world seems to give it a lot of scars,
Trying to make its mark.
It tries to shine bright than its peers,
Its dreams cannot be described in meres,
It whispers, "I fear"
After all, we all need a cheerleader,
When the world sneers.
Thoughts gushing in general,
Will I be able to shine bright as a crystal,
In the world, where I'm an ephemeral?
#review #poetry #AlishaG
This is my first poetry, hope you like it.
Trigger warning
I've seen people around me die.
Not by accidents or ailments,
but by a self inflicted crime.
I try not to think of them,
I tell myself, it was their wish.
Their time had come,
too early for their loved ones to miss.
I keep myself away from these news,
Cause I know nobody would like my views.
Living and dying should be one's choice,
why we create such fuss and noise.
I divert myself,
drown in work more than thoughts.
By the ends of the day,
I am back again, connecting all the dots.
I ponder upon what they've left behind.
All I see is their helpless family,
to whom we cannot turn blind.
Though I say, dying is one's choice,
suicide is the most selfish and bias.
Cause one only thinks for self,
leaving others a life of hell.
#everyone #review #poem #AS
I've seen people around me die.
Not by accidents or ailments,
but by a self inflicted crime.
I try not to think of them,
I tell myself, it was their wish.
Their time had come,
too early for their loved ones to miss.
I keep myself away from these news,
Cause I know nobody would like my views.
Living and dying should be one's choice,
why we create such fuss and noise.
I divert myself,
drown in work more than thoughts.
By the ends of the day,
I am back again, connecting all the dots.
I ponder upon what they've left behind.
All I see is their helpless family,
to whom we cannot turn blind.
Though I say, dying is one's choice,
suicide is the most selfish and bias.
Cause one only thinks for self,
leaving others a life of hell.
#everyone #review #poem #AS
!! Heavenly Fumes !!
He Walked through heaven's gate,left the ones he hate
The fume made his feet numb,heaven's silence made him dumb
Saw young alluring eyes,her gaze fixed into a book
Hell could be heaven,if you know where to look
Oath,Promises and Vows secured two souls on hook,
One night he was hollow inside,
A Gentle night where the heaven cried,
Soil had put daggers in their heart,
But heaven ripped two souls apart,
Swear that was true love!,Since never ran smooth,
Love is either a lie or an beautiful truth!
~iwritesometimes
#review
#poem
#iwritesometimes
He Walked through heaven's gate,left the ones he hate
The fume made his feet numb,heaven's silence made him dumb
Saw young alluring eyes,her gaze fixed into a book
Hell could be heaven,if you know where to look
Oath,Promises and Vows secured two souls on hook,
One night he was hollow inside,
A Gentle night where the heaven cried,
Soil had put daggers in their heart,
But heaven ripped two souls apart,
Swear that was true love!,Since never ran smooth,
Love is either a lie or an beautiful truth!
~iwritesometimes
#review
#poem
#iwritesometimes
you slipped in
when my fort was weak
and disguised
as care for friend
now be buried,
a price for kidding with me
#review
#AhmadMusa
#poem
when my fort was weak
and disguised
as care for friend
now be buried,
a price for kidding with me
#review
#AhmadMusa
#poem
how can man be free
when he is not, of needs?
he needs air to breath
and water to drink
he needs food to eat
in his prescribed time to live
his choice was not seeked
when he was made a man
he could've been an animal
what makes him feel conceite?
a bastard or a child
a black man or a white
from rich kins or from poor
on rich land or on poor
in peace time or in war
he picked none yet he wore
he'd recall from where he came
was he asked, 'where should we...?'
or asked 'when should we?'
same domineering will be replayed
when it's time for him to leave.
#review
#AhmadMusa
#poem
when he is not, of needs?
he needs air to breath
and water to drink
he needs food to eat
in his prescribed time to live
his choice was not seeked
when he was made a man
he could've been an animal
what makes him feel conceite?
a bastard or a child
a black man or a white
from rich kins or from poor
on rich land or on poor
in peace time or in war
he picked none yet he wore
he'd recall from where he came
was he asked, 'where should we...?'
or asked 'when should we?'
same domineering will be replayed
when it's time for him to leave.
#review
#AhmadMusa
#poem
man came with nothing;
not even heart or brain
the world, being generous
cut itself to lend a body
its hands are always open
when asked it doesn't hesitate
he may travel farther away
it never seems to be bothered.
as though dull it is called,
perhaps due to the re-occurence
willingly or unwillingly no man has
ever left with anything it owns.
#poem #review #AhmadMusa
not even heart or brain
the world, being generous
cut itself to lend a body
its hands are always open
when asked it doesn't hesitate
he may travel farther away
it never seems to be bothered.
as though dull it is called,
perhaps due to the re-occurence
willingly or unwillingly no man has
ever left with anything it owns.
#poem #review #AhmadMusa
Empty words were all Mustang muttered as she trotted back and forth the length of the enclosed field. Once or twice, my ears caught a sentence but no more than that. With my back to the fence, I slowly slid down to the grass and let out a deep sigh of relief which earned me a snort from my companion.
"You're not listening" She complained.
"Sorry." I answered with a tired wave of my hand. Although, my eyes were to the ground, I knew when Mustang came to stand over me. So, I peered up from under my lashes at the mass of shinny black skin in front of me. I allowed my eyes to travel up the length of her body and met her gaze. My chest tightened.
"I didn't do it..."
A series of images flashed through my mind. A girl. In a bathing suit. Water splashing.
I clasped my hands down over my head, a pathetic attempts to stop the invasion.
Mustang's lowered herself to the ground, her legs folding neatly beneath her. She continued to observe me.
The memories kept flooding back without warning and I felt my walls come apart. I was by the lake again. The sun was warm against my skin. Big brown eyes were gazing up at me. Her laughter piercing my ears.
I must have appeared dazed because Mustang nudged me with her muzzle, pulling me from my reverie.
"Do you remember what happened?" Mustang's inquired, her voice cool and even.
I shook my head in response.
She stretched out two long legs and crossed one hoof over the other. Then she said ,
"Tell me what you remember," ignoring my answer.
I clutched my chest as my heart threatened to tear out of my ribs.
More images.
I let my head my hang low and began the story as I remembered it.
"Abigail and I. She's laughing and..." My voice caught in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears.
I didn't do it.
"She kept calling me by another name. Shan—" I shut my eye lids tightly, trying to recall.
"Ashanti?" Mustang chipped in. I lifted up my face to look at her for a brief moment and returned my gaze to the earth.
"Ashanti..." I repeated slowly. It felt awfully familiar. I drew in a deep breath and carried on.
"She wanted us to go deeper into the water. Something...about being one with nature."
"So, she took my hand, and pulled me deeper. Then..."
I paused and tried to slow my breathing. Every muscle in my body was tensed. As if sensing my inner struggles, Mustang nestled her head in my lap. I was taken aback by the gesture and reached out with unsteady fingers to stroked her mane.
****
Little Ashanti's eyes fluttered open to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Dull brown eyes stared back. She picked up her stuffed animal and flung herself onto her bed. Lost in thought, She resumed stroking her animal.
"Mustang?" She called out .
"Yes, Ashanti?"
"I'm bored." She mumbled.
No response.
"Can I change the story I'm telling myself?" She said.
"I feared you never would." replied Mustang.
A smile settled on her lips. Ashanti closed her eyes and travelled far.
#wca
#wcss
#prompt
#sor3h
#review
"You're not listening" She complained.
"Sorry." I answered with a tired wave of my hand. Although, my eyes were to the ground, I knew when Mustang came to stand over me. So, I peered up from under my lashes at the mass of shinny black skin in front of me. I allowed my eyes to travel up the length of her body and met her gaze. My chest tightened.
"I didn't do it..."
A series of images flashed through my mind. A girl. In a bathing suit. Water splashing.
I clasped my hands down over my head, a pathetic attempts to stop the invasion.
Mustang's lowered herself to the ground, her legs folding neatly beneath her. She continued to observe me.
The memories kept flooding back without warning and I felt my walls come apart. I was by the lake again. The sun was warm against my skin. Big brown eyes were gazing up at me. Her laughter piercing my ears.
I must have appeared dazed because Mustang nudged me with her muzzle, pulling me from my reverie.
"Do you remember what happened?" Mustang's inquired, her voice cool and even.
I shook my head in response.
She stretched out two long legs and crossed one hoof over the other. Then she said ,
"Tell me what you remember," ignoring my answer.
I clutched my chest as my heart threatened to tear out of my ribs.
More images.
I let my head my hang low and began the story as I remembered it.
"Abigail and I. She's laughing and..." My voice caught in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears.
I didn't do it.
"She kept calling me by another name. Shan—" I shut my eye lids tightly, trying to recall.
"Ashanti?" Mustang chipped in. I lifted up my face to look at her for a brief moment and returned my gaze to the earth.
"Ashanti..." I repeated slowly. It felt awfully familiar. I drew in a deep breath and carried on.
"She wanted us to go deeper into the water. Something...about being one with nature."
"So, she took my hand, and pulled me deeper. Then..."
I paused and tried to slow my breathing. Every muscle in my body was tensed. As if sensing my inner struggles, Mustang nestled her head in my lap. I was taken aback by the gesture and reached out with unsteady fingers to stroked her mane.
****
Little Ashanti's eyes fluttered open to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Dull brown eyes stared back. She picked up her stuffed animal and flung herself onto her bed. Lost in thought, She resumed stroking her animal.
"Mustang?" She called out .
"Yes, Ashanti?"
"I'm bored." She mumbled.
No response.
"Can I change the story I'm telling myself?" She said.
"I feared you never would." replied Mustang.
A smile settled on her lips. Ashanti closed her eyes and travelled far.
#wca
#wcss
#prompt
#sor3h
#review
#review #your pen name #genre
Within my long travell, I happened to a meet
Being able to see you in darkness, was pretty sweet
When you looked at me, my heart skipped a beat
In that dark cave, there was only you and me
Words were enough but not so free
I found everything in your heart, like vast sea
Those special memories of you will always dwell in my heart
Even distance cannot take us apart
You have beacome lovely part of my past
Accepting that you are not here will always cause me pain
But you are forever in my heart, till we meet again...!!!
Within my long travell, I happened to a meet
Being able to see you in darkness, was pretty sweet
When you looked at me, my heart skipped a beat
In that dark cave, there was only you and me
Words were enough but not so free
I found everything in your heart, like vast sea
Those special memories of you will always dwell in my heart
Even distance cannot take us apart
You have beacome lovely part of my past
Accepting that you are not here will always cause me pain
But you are forever in my heart, till we meet again...!!!
This is unfair, mummured a weed.
It's all your fault, it pointed with hate.
You won't understand, replied the crop.
You have no use, it's what you deserve.
Lier!!! Lier!!! Shouted the weed.
You know I can do this, this and this.
The can you added, Said the crop,
is what differenciated you and me.
Here comes the blade, blurted the crop.
It seems our neighborhood has come to an end.
#AhmadMusa #review #poem
It's all your fault, it pointed with hate.
You won't understand, replied the crop.
You have no use, it's what you deserve.
Lier!!! Lier!!! Shouted the weed.
You know I can do this, this and this.
The can you added, Said the crop,
is what differenciated you and me.
Here comes the blade, blurted the crop.
It seems our neighborhood has come to an end.
#AhmadMusa #review #poem
#review
The tales of slipper vendor
In the busy streets of Hyderabad crying for selling his slippers "STREET SLIPPERS NEW SLIPPERS RICHLY LAIDEN THESE FOOT FLIPPERS " hardly was the day with the vendor as he has not sold anything far the day .The competition was tough because 7 others sat side by him crying the same .If you see the foot of hyderabadi people you will find high towering heels probably which has the capacity to double one's height and men with the shining woodland wood which carries promise lasts till there graveyard .
There was a big temple of kali mata just near where the vendors were sitting ,beautifully jotted with Indian art ingarved looked as if they were carved centuries ago ,the steps leading to the temple were white but became muddy as in a fraction of second more than 100's of people entered the temple leaving there slippers ,shoes ,heels of high worth upon the grace of god .The temple was full of rush and flush myriad of times it happened that people exchanged each others slippers or sometimes expensive ones were missing,just outside the big main temple gate painted with maroon blood red , there lay hundred of slippers shoes heels all costly as well as cheep as temple or "mandir" is a place in India where you can see rich barefoot .Along with the slipper vendor there were several others who were trying to sell their goods in the trembling winter .Some were selling coconut the famous offering for the fierce devil killing goddess ,some others were selling fragrance incense sticks
Temple had a big idol of Godess kali painted in blue-blackish ,a dagger in her hand ,head of the devil in another ,and her foot resting on the chest of lord shiva. The time was about 8 in the evening the pujari was chanting the mantar holding a big "arti thaal" .Outide there were hundreds of gave burning with castor oil the scared oil.
Mani was one of the vendors of slippers who sat there his clothes were tattered and torn he wore a big turban over his head which was yellow but turned pale with due time ,his face was dark and had wrinkle, his beard had combination of white and black hairs ,his hand was bangled with silver metal .He had the smallest of the stall as compared to others and was under a big Peepal tree,his stall was arranged in 3 groups one had slippers of woody color specially meant for old folks the next layer had cute little ones for kids an the last for ladies and women colored differently but they all were staid but for him it was quint
It was the day of "the maha arti "which took place only on the time of dusk once in a month ,so that day not only the god believer but the vendors counting all went to attend the aarti ;Those days slipper getting slipped unnoticed became were famous ,some people reported a man dressed anomalous in dohti and a shwal over the chest was the only known culprit ;presently Mani and others went to attend the puja ,the fog was on it was cold Manu wore a red multicolored dirty shawl dipped with dust and a white dohti which was eventually not less compared to black .
The aarti soon began myriad of people were ringing the bells ,some were mumbling the only mantras they knew,few were acting to pray and peeping with one eye open round the place ,The fat chubby , huge tummy , head pujari was holding the big aarti thaal ,and on the outskirts of the temple the thief was doing its job well he selected the most precious slippers ,shoes and probably was planning to sell it in chor bazar he had a hand bang type something hanging from its left shoulder and he was busy keeping in it its precious gems ,and he fled away with all towards the vendors shop ,here the aarti was over almost the pujari was preparing the "prashad" the holy bite of food by which several people broke there 9 days fast .Still on such holy place mischief was going round and round .
Mani was sand blind he could hardly make out things ,sometime it happened he got confused between his women buyers and men buyers as there
The tales of slipper vendor
In the busy streets of Hyderabad crying for selling his slippers "STREET SLIPPERS NEW SLIPPERS RICHLY LAIDEN THESE FOOT FLIPPERS " hardly was the day with the vendor as he has not sold anything far the day .The competition was tough because 7 others sat side by him crying the same .If you see the foot of hyderabadi people you will find high towering heels probably which has the capacity to double one's height and men with the shining woodland wood which carries promise lasts till there graveyard .
There was a big temple of kali mata just near where the vendors were sitting ,beautifully jotted with Indian art ingarved looked as if they were carved centuries ago ,the steps leading to the temple were white but became muddy as in a fraction of second more than 100's of people entered the temple leaving there slippers ,shoes ,heels of high worth upon the grace of god .The temple was full of rush and flush myriad of times it happened that people exchanged each others slippers or sometimes expensive ones were missing,just outside the big main temple gate painted with maroon blood red , there lay hundred of slippers shoes heels all costly as well as cheep as temple or "mandir" is a place in India where you can see rich barefoot .Along with the slipper vendor there were several others who were trying to sell their goods in the trembling winter .Some were selling coconut the famous offering for the fierce devil killing goddess ,some others were selling fragrance incense sticks
Temple had a big idol of Godess kali painted in blue-blackish ,a dagger in her hand ,head of the devil in another ,and her foot resting on the chest of lord shiva. The time was about 8 in the evening the pujari was chanting the mantar holding a big "arti thaal" .Outide there were hundreds of gave burning with castor oil the scared oil.
Mani was one of the vendors of slippers who sat there his clothes were tattered and torn he wore a big turban over his head which was yellow but turned pale with due time ,his face was dark and had wrinkle, his beard had combination of white and black hairs ,his hand was bangled with silver metal .He had the smallest of the stall as compared to others and was under a big Peepal tree,his stall was arranged in 3 groups one had slippers of woody color specially meant for old folks the next layer had cute little ones for kids an the last for ladies and women colored differently but they all were staid but for him it was quint
It was the day of "the maha arti "which took place only on the time of dusk once in a month ,so that day not only the god believer but the vendors counting all went to attend the aarti ;Those days slipper getting slipped unnoticed became were famous ,some people reported a man dressed anomalous in dohti and a shwal over the chest was the only known culprit ;presently Mani and others went to attend the puja ,the fog was on it was cold Manu wore a red multicolored dirty shawl dipped with dust and a white dohti which was eventually not less compared to black .
The aarti soon began myriad of people were ringing the bells ,some were mumbling the only mantras they knew,few were acting to pray and peeping with one eye open round the place ,The fat chubby , huge tummy , head pujari was holding the big aarti thaal ,and on the outskirts of the temple the thief was doing its job well he selected the most precious slippers ,shoes and probably was planning to sell it in chor bazar he had a hand bang type something hanging from its left shoulder and he was busy keeping in it its precious gems ,and he fled away with all towards the vendors shop ,here the aarti was over almost the pujari was preparing the "prashad" the holy bite of food by which several people broke there 9 days fast .Still on such holy place mischief was going round and round .
Mani was sand blind he could hardly make out things ,sometime it happened he got confused between his women buyers and men buyers as there
Death of a Heart.
Kind my heart was
as dandy as can be
until the good people
of the world,
flailed the virtue
off of it.
Thrown under 'twas
molars chewed the life
out of it.
Like tasteless gum,
out it was spit
onto the ground
underneath dirty feet and
Smeared of dirt and grime.
Unknowing,
I couldn't tell my crime.
Unheard were my cries
for help,
diminished was all my hope.
Meted out on me,
was punishment
of all sorts
for having a kind heart.
Bruised and sickly,
it finally took
the last breath.
The good people then
burried it
with the soil of
scorn and derision.
An unkind funeral,
with only one witness
in attendance.
It was no more!
A heartless man
I became
just a hole of nothing
where it used to be.
#review #rocky #poem
Kind my heart was
as dandy as can be
until the good people
of the world,
flailed the virtue
off of it.
Thrown under 'twas
molars chewed the life
out of it.
Like tasteless gum,
out it was spit
onto the ground
underneath dirty feet and
Smeared of dirt and grime.
Unknowing,
I couldn't tell my crime.
Unheard were my cries
for help,
diminished was all my hope.
Meted out on me,
was punishment
of all sorts
for having a kind heart.
Bruised and sickly,
it finally took
the last breath.
The good people then
burried it
with the soil of
scorn and derision.
An unkind funeral,
with only one witness
in attendance.
It was no more!
A heartless man
I became
just a hole of nothing
where it used to be.
#review #rocky #poem
#review #Shashwat #Scene
The color of the sky had turned pale ,the light was slowly getting dim the sun was burning slowly ,winds were blowing making gusting sounds but the atmosphere felt silent , the flapping of the birds swiftly flying to there croons could be heard , I waited there at the bench just above the pond ,the chair was rusted as it was made of iron and was not even balanced but the smell of rusted nails is something out of this world .
The pond was still but was abrupted when little- little feathers of birds disturbed its composer ;Making circular rounds with a slight sound of splash.
The rain had made the trees near by to even grow greener . I just rested my head on the bench releasing a sigh that I never knew I was holding what for; I closed my eyes and I just left me to the soothing care of mother nature.
The color of the sky had turned pale ,the light was slowly getting dim the sun was burning slowly ,winds were blowing making gusting sounds but the atmosphere felt silent , the flapping of the birds swiftly flying to there croons could be heard , I waited there at the bench just above the pond ,the chair was rusted as it was made of iron and was not even balanced but the smell of rusted nails is something out of this world .
The pond was still but was abrupted when little- little feathers of birds disturbed its composer ;Making circular rounds with a slight sound of splash.
The rain had made the trees near by to even grow greener . I just rested my head on the bench releasing a sigh that I never knew I was holding what for; I closed my eyes and I just left me to the soothing care of mother nature.
Good morning
Surely, morn will come,
And darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
And weak will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
And my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
When the cock finally crows.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
Surely, morn will come,
And darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
And weak will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
And my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
When the cock finally crows.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
Good Morning
Surely, morn will come,
and darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
and thin will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
and my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
when the cock finally crows;
Ye, when the sky cracks open.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
I need your opinion on this:
*Should the last line of the second stanza stay or go?
*Would it be better as a one stanza poem with only 10 lines (assuming I remove that last line )
Surely, morn will come,
and darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
and thin will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
and my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
when the cock finally crows;
Ye, when the sky cracks open.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
I need your opinion on this:
*Should the last line of the second stanza stay or go?
*Would it be better as a one stanza poem with only 10 lines (assuming I remove that last line )
The Deal: A tale of betrayal
Part 1
Nadia yawns loudly stretching her arms and legs to the point that they make a cracking sound, her mouth stretches wide open to her ears despite her valiant efforts to not yawn. It's three in the night and it’s deadly silent all around. The summer is at its peak and the atmosphere is humid. The fans moving with crackling noise due to jammed bearings allow only a little relief from the heat, there's no breeze outside to soothe the itching heat but the sky is clear and twinkling, a partial relief to sleepy eyes. Nadia looks with tired eyes towards the clock, checking it every five minutes. It's hard to remain awake when you think about staying awake way too much. She rubs her eyes digging the heel of her palm into them so hard that she could see stars for a few moments.
Finally, she decides after almost dozing off twice in her seat that it would be better if she just walks around a little. She leaves her place; the staff room looks ten times bigger to her in the night than in the day. It is not exactly a room, it’s just a partition made in the equipment room with chairs and lockers to complete the feel of the staff room. The chairs are all cleanly lined up, the lockers closed down. No chattering or gossiping, no catfights, everything is agonizingly silent; she misses day time.
This is her first turn for night duty, one of the night staff is on leave and she has to work in her place. Since everyone else in the night shift know what their jobs are and Nadia is only an extra for an emergency she does not know what to do with herself. The night staff isn’t even acknowledging her presence. And now that Nadia has done this shift she is satisfied enough to never do it again. The place looks like a haunted house in the night. No activity, no work, just anticipation that there could be something that would happen but nothing does. Every sound is amplified a thousand times ricocheting in the deafening silence.
Nadia paces outside the staff room but even that doesn't help her much, she needed a change of place urgently before her system shuts down and she falls asleep of boredom. Ultimately she decides that she needs a coffee and she should also go around and have a look at the patients. After slurping the coffee almost in one breath she starts checking up the patients one by one, all of whose name she knew by heart. First, she checks if the gates are all locked well, she remembers someone once left a gate unlocked and the patient ran off only to be met by an accident. That cost the patient her life and the reputation of the Institution was deeply hurt. Then she checks if everyone is in their bed or not. Every room has similar furniture, a narrow bed, only wide enough for someone to lay on their back, a chair and a table, a cupboard to keep their belonging, a side lamp to keep the room dimly lit all night so that it won’t be too dark and the white-colored walls most of which have taken an off-white shade with time. The windows are small and iron grill is firmly placed on each of them so that no one could use it to enter or exit their rooms. The corridors themselves are the same color with the only exception of color for stair and exit signs. The gates are all marked with the patient numbers in blue colored plates with numbers written in white.
#tm #review #story
Part 1
Nadia yawns loudly stretching her arms and legs to the point that they make a cracking sound, her mouth stretches wide open to her ears despite her valiant efforts to not yawn. It's three in the night and it’s deadly silent all around. The summer is at its peak and the atmosphere is humid. The fans moving with crackling noise due to jammed bearings allow only a little relief from the heat, there's no breeze outside to soothe the itching heat but the sky is clear and twinkling, a partial relief to sleepy eyes. Nadia looks with tired eyes towards the clock, checking it every five minutes. It's hard to remain awake when you think about staying awake way too much. She rubs her eyes digging the heel of her palm into them so hard that she could see stars for a few moments.
Finally, she decides after almost dozing off twice in her seat that it would be better if she just walks around a little. She leaves her place; the staff room looks ten times bigger to her in the night than in the day. It is not exactly a room, it’s just a partition made in the equipment room with chairs and lockers to complete the feel of the staff room. The chairs are all cleanly lined up, the lockers closed down. No chattering or gossiping, no catfights, everything is agonizingly silent; she misses day time.
This is her first turn for night duty, one of the night staff is on leave and she has to work in her place. Since everyone else in the night shift know what their jobs are and Nadia is only an extra for an emergency she does not know what to do with herself. The night staff isn’t even acknowledging her presence. And now that Nadia has done this shift she is satisfied enough to never do it again. The place looks like a haunted house in the night. No activity, no work, just anticipation that there could be something that would happen but nothing does. Every sound is amplified a thousand times ricocheting in the deafening silence.
Nadia paces outside the staff room but even that doesn't help her much, she needed a change of place urgently before her system shuts down and she falls asleep of boredom. Ultimately she decides that she needs a coffee and she should also go around and have a look at the patients. After slurping the coffee almost in one breath she starts checking up the patients one by one, all of whose name she knew by heart. First, she checks if the gates are all locked well, she remembers someone once left a gate unlocked and the patient ran off only to be met by an accident. That cost the patient her life and the reputation of the Institution was deeply hurt. Then she checks if everyone is in their bed or not. Every room has similar furniture, a narrow bed, only wide enough for someone to lay on their back, a chair and a table, a cupboard to keep their belonging, a side lamp to keep the room dimly lit all night so that it won’t be too dark and the white-colored walls most of which have taken an off-white shade with time. The windows are small and iron grill is firmly placed on each of them so that no one could use it to enter or exit their rooms. The corridors themselves are the same color with the only exception of color for stair and exit signs. The gates are all marked with the patient numbers in blue colored plates with numbers written in white.
#tm #review #story