Finding Again

 Day-1

OctPoWriMo-2022

Form: A haiku

                                                                     pic:sunita

passions many dead

opened up to new wonders

doorways lit again

Participating in : OctPoWriMo-2022

Time Lapse

 The Sunday Muse #227

My joy 

is broken

into fragments.

It touches 

a moment

and slips

Through the fingers.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

A Journey between Parallels

 The Sunday Muse 226

Life sustains

On stolen moments

Sometimes expectedly

Sometimes unexpectedly

There are no two ways

When the heart yearns

To smell the flowers

Even in the wilderness

There is a hunger to feel, to learn,

To get enchanted in the embrace 

Of the greatest teacher,

The nature!

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Glimpses

 The Sunday Muse #225

I want to tell you

All about the changing seasons

The fragrant dawns

The blazing sunsets

The welcoming chirpy mornings

Breezy springs and sunny summers

The soothing showers and warm feelings

Shimmering beaches and swaying palms

Bottled secrets and wandering dreams

And many more,

When we meet on the dewy rainbow.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Shades

 The Sunday Muse #224

The fragmented heart

Embraced colors

To fill the emptiness.

The resonance of

Fear and tears

Washed in the bright shades.

They healed, the

desolate wounds, wrapped

In ebullient hues.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

The Mystic

 

The Sunday Muse #222

Singer & Songwriter Michal Elia Kamal 

The strings of a bohemian heart

Rhymes, 

Through the fingers.

There is no tomorrow in the tunes

There is only 

Today and self, to feel

Life floating on wings of musical chimes.

The yearning,  

For freedom transcends

In the tranced existence of a rhythm. 

As the seven ragas 

Swirl in the veins,

A Sufi is born; free, alone, and formless!

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Sunshine and Rainbow

 The Sunday Muse # 221

Softly thudding heartbeats

Lead her to the shores of dreams

Where the sun sings

The tune of love and peace.

She catches the rays

In her aching heart

To wean away the ghosts

Chasing her nightmares.

Sweet life smiles

In the company of friends

She builds her cocoon

And holds her piece of sky.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Impermanence

 The Sunday Muse #220

In the caressing darkness

Creeping through the

Breathing shadows

A few memories whisper

In a lingering rhapsody.

Breaking down the barriers

Of a bottled existence.

They come en masse,

With zillions of sunny dreams,

Fleeting heartaches,

Haunting love songs, magical moments,

Wordy duels and sometimes,

Just a smoldering silence.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Poets

 The Sunday Muse #219 

Dear Bev, you will be always missed, Rest in peace dear wordsmith.

They come on wings of words silently,

Bringing invisible bonds of warmth hopefully.

When the heart sinks into the pits of darkness

Their kind words erase the tinge of loneliness.

They are a band of strong warriors

The mightly carriers of thoughtful words

There is strength in their invisible existence

Which fills the heart with immense peace.

Some stay deep in the heart

Carrying the torch of love

Their presence is ever felt

In the realms of the poetic world.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Free Spirit

 The Sunday Muse #218

The world in its shades

Builds many barriers

A cacophony of choices

That is when the spirit speaks

A language of freedom.

There is peace

In the smallest things

When nature plays

The flute of resonance

Life takes a leap.

Maybe a hermit

Took birth through those choices

But, there was a choice

Without the hurdles

Made by the social norms.

Freedom comes

At a price!

Particapting in The Sunday Muse

This poem is dedicated to Sherry Blue Sky!

Dominance

 The Sunday Muse #217

The fire engulfs

The last threads

Of freedom 

To choose

To live

To fight

To survive

Her hopes shredded 

By age-old bias

A towering cross

Hangs on her crown

She has  no right

Over her body

The law controls it

In the lands

Where Liberty

Dies a silent death! 

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Fire in the Heart

The Sunday Muse #216

The vagabond spirit

fluttering

in the cage

waiting

to soar high

and

touch the winds of life.

Participating in #The Sunday Muse

Remembrance

 The Sunday  Muse #215

the dark memories

flood the rivers in the heart

never-ending ache

losing suddenly left a half-built scarred wall life stuck midways

the heaven and earth

shed a tear of loss and grief

the pain built a nest

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Sweet Desires

 The Sunday Muse #214

                                                    "Flaming June" by Frederic Leighton

There were days

When the sultry evenings

Burning with desires

Flickered dreamily,

Anticipating, longing

For the warmth,

To flood the cells.

To get swept

By your gaze,

Lustily, completely,

In the paper mache

Silhouette, if so

Ephemerally,

In a liquid state.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Silent Resilience

The Sunday Muse #213

                                                                  Image source here

She walks through

The silent arches

Like a dervish, swirling through

Virgin dreams.

She is the

Percussor of hope

A determined dreamer

Who knows where her

Heart belongs.

An echo of her

Resilience inspire

The veiled voices, to resist,

To stand tall.

*

*

*

Bearer of faith

She is

The woman of evolution!

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Freedom

 The Sunday Muse #212

Musings,

Bright, splinted, streaming thoughts

Rejuvenated by destiny.

Weaved,

Collectively through the hazy hours

And wreathed with fine confetti.

Hours of,

Contemplation, pain, and memories

Took, the shape of words.

Finally,

The parchment changed

Displaying a canvas of life lived.

Imperfections,

Sharp, shaped, and dark

Accentuated and accepted in bold.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Veiled

 The Sunday Muse #211

 

From one end of the earth

To another, echoes the images

Of chained voices. Shadows

Separated by hemispheres

Hide behind laced windows.

Life snails on rigid parallels;

The voices silenced, gagged,

By the harsh tones of patriarchy

The reflections stare at the horizon

Their entwined fate

Moves on the elliptical motions 

As their shared destinies

Wear shrouds of truth and lies.

 

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

A Calling

 The Sunday Muse #210

A memory

Soaked in rains

Deeply aching,

Blushed suddenly.

On a cloudy day

On the shore,

Two lonely strangers

Met at the stretch.

A glowing face with

The hair gone wild,

In bare feet

Dancing with the waves,

Stared at a face

A shadow,

Covered in a

Marlboro scent.

Thousand emotions

As old as time

Sprung up and danced

In the pair of smoky eyes.

The salt on the skin

Tasted of love and life

As one gaze met another.

On that lonely sandy shore

In the arms of silence

Life left an unfinished story.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Self-Worth

 The Sunday Muse #209

This is how it feels

To be  free

From the baggage.

Baggage of expectations

Others' needs

And self-doubt.

There is freedom

In one's space

Where you find yourself, 

You deserve

To live your life

On your own terms!

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

A Lacuna

 May musings-2022

It's loneliness

that stares

in the milieu

of thousand voices.

Sands of Time

 The Sunday Muse #208

Can you hear?

The whisper of the erratic seasons,

Heralding in an unknown disaster.

Look! Can you see? 

The  charred forests, eroded cliffs, melting icecaps,

Accentuating the plight of transition.

Can you see the difference?

Glaring head-on,  in yesterday, today;

And the unseen tomorrow.

Wake up! Don't gather; autumn's fallen leaves!

The seasons have left too many telltale signs

The future of  next-generation lies in our hands

Let us do our bit to make the earth breathe again.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

The Wild Heart

 Day-30 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: To write a Cento. This is a poem that is made up of lines taken from other poems.

                                                                           pic;sunita

What is this drink, but the April sun,

Smelling of tempestuous winds on the skin.

This is noon for strangers who part the window drapes,

Hunger in their eyes and a burning longing in their hearts.

But, they only wander, tripping idly over puddles of desire, 

The walls shield the longing of their desperate fires.

From a silence, somewhere deep within,

A seductive fragrance embraces the hot humid evening.

The sights and smells and sounds shall thrive and go on,

While the summer breaks into a dance of its own.

I love the poems by Kamala Das. I have taken a few lines from some of her poems.
"What is this drink, but the April sun", Summer in Calcutta
"This is noon for strangers who part the window drapes to peer in". Hot Noon in Malabar
"But, they only wander, tripping idly over puddles of desire', The Freaks
"From a silence, somewhere deep within", Words
"The sights and smells and sounds shall thrive and go on". Forest Fire

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022

Inheritance

 Day-29 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: to write a poem in which you muse on the gifts you received at birth — whether they are actual presents, like a teddy bear, or talents – like a good singing voice – or circumstances – like a kind older brother, as well as a “curse” you’ve lived with.

                                                                       pic:sunita

Growing up under your shadow

You were her hero, the strong banyan tree.

She eagerly waited for the birthday gifts

The little fingers would hold the bounty

Smelling the woodiness with pleasure

Feeling the joy rushing in the veins

She would bury herself in 

The realms of the magical world.

Time moved on timeless horses

That little girl turned into a 

Voracious reader, her youth found

Comfort between the parchment of words.

When destiny played hide and seek,

Your gifts have been her

Constant companions 

When your absence

Eroded her soul.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022

Doubts

 Day-28 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: To write a concrete poem (shape poem)

                                            heals the soul when

                                  and                                               many

                        comforts                                                          doubts

                   Music                                                               arise

                                                                                           with no             

                                                                                         answers

                                                                                       and

                                                                                  the

                                                                               h

                                                                        e

                                                                    a

                                                                  r

                                                                 t

                                                                  f

                                                                   e

                                                                    e

                                                                      l

                                                                       s

                                                                  the ache

                                                               of silenced

                                                                  thoughts.

                                                                        

                                           

                                        

             Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022              

                    

In Search of Faith

 Day-27 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: To write a "duplex" a form of a sonnet.

                                                         hometown: image from a friend.

The blood flows like a timeless maverick

With exotic, untamed thoughts and words.

Sometimes the thoughts are stuck

While rummaging through the layers.

The broken  layers have turned frosty

Pain comes like a marauder dangling on a heartbeat.

Heartbeats are signs of living

When a mysterious tomorrow marches on a labyrinth.

Marching in and out of hospitals

Why not make the best when there is still a speck of hope.

They say the world survives on hope

I do believe there is a lot more to do.

There are more dreams to conquer

When the blood flows like a timeless maverick.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022

The Forecast

 Day-26 NaPoWriMo-2022

  Prompt: To write a poem in an epic simile.

                                                                        pic:sunita

The seasons are like making love

on wild meadows of erotic earth

a melting pot in the daylight and

flashes of thunder and lightening

in the twilight as an when the earth

starts fuming the fires like a dragon.

In the daybreak

the bees  prance around the blooms

sucking the nectar as if their life

hangs on a time machine.

The squirrels get busy

shuttling from one tree to another

wondering if the earth is ever

going to get cooler or hotter

or both in the blazing weather.

Very difficult to tell 

whether it is spring or summer

while the queen of spring

like a Houdini, sings

behind the curtain of greens.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022

The Village Goddess

 Day-25 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: To write about a vision or a dream depicting a woman.

                                                                            pic:sunita  

She walks in my dreams

With the charm of a faraway land

Where she lived life

Within the arms of nature

Draping her saree 

In the traditional way

She walks to the spring

Carrying  pots of clay

As if going on a pilgrimage, in her 70s.

Climbing that rocky terrain 

A synchronized balance on a hip and head.

Always barefooted.

Her betel-nut pouch firmly

Tucked in the folds of her sari

Those steep steps, eroded with time.

Marked with her footprints.

For half a century the rocky path kissed her feet.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022

The Wild Flower

 Day-24 NaPoWriMo-2022

Prompt: To write a poem in which you describe  something with a hard-boiled simile.

                                                                      pic;sneha

The long tresses swirled like waves

As she walked through the glade

Her curves were like a stream on a move

A painting of perfection

A happy fairy unaware of the blazing stare

He watched from afar

She was fragile, beautiful, and vulnerable 

It made him defenseless,

He was scared of his own feeling. What if he touches her

And she breaks into pieces?

He was a secret admirer. A voyager, a believer.

She was like water in a vase, clear, crystalline 

So clear was her infinite beauty

It reflected as she moved through the meadows

Like a free bird, boundless, serenading the breeze

With her wanderlust. He was just a thirsty traveler.

He could only love from a distance.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2022