The lone star

A lone star twinkles,

Vanishing from my sight.

Blinking to a beat,

One can't hear.

I ask it to stop

The blinking and twinkling

It says to me,

I shan't today. 

It matches my heart,

The rhythm of the star,

It looks down on my windowsill.

Where I sit with wonder,

Looking up at the sky

My heart doesn't seem to still.

I stare at the star,

And it stares at me back

A game we play all night.

For morning shall come,

The dark blanket disperse, 

And I shall stare solemnly at the sky.

***

2 am thoughts, a star caught my fancy. Need I say more?  :)

Image:Google

Nostalgia

An air of nostalgia saunters in with a chill

and I stand rooted there.

As a wave passes inside me.

I give in to memories..

**
Ps. Old Recycled poetry time, exam time ie!

Secrets and Silence

I am silent today

Holding in all the things together.

If I were to tell you, 

Would it scatter apart?

For it's so much easier, 

When there isn't a secret keeper.

Yet, I find myself bubbling,

A world stays in me. 

Unknown to the rest, 

In the folds of my being.

A volcano of thoughts, 

Building up slowly, but surely.

Shall it erupt? Shall it flow? 

Traveling towards the vast blue sky.

At times I'm afraid it shall burst,

Spilling those words I dare say not. 

Yet I am silent today.

Perhaps my words shall find their way. 

****

Pondering late last night, brought out quite some many questions, I absolutely had to jot it down. 

How do you deal with secrets?

**

Image: Google search :)

Somethings Magical

There's just something about magic. It leaves the childlike mind stumped, a teenager amused, an elder surprised,  trying to find logic behind it.  But that's the thing about magic you see, it may not make sense always. My take on some things magical for WOW by BlogAdda.

Image: Google

***

The wind chimes sing

With the passing breeze

A child looks In wonder

Magic, it seems.

***

She sprinkles glitter over her bed

Magic dust it is, Ma had said.

Wishes and prayers do fairies hear.

Bring back my Ma, she prays in bed.

***

The rabbit was found

Under the magicians hat

Perhaps Alice 

Fell down the wrong hole.

***

She was my magic

I, her slave.

A whiz with her wand,

I vanished away.

***

Fairies and gnomes

Pixies and combs

Petals and light

Flowers pure white

Beckons A mystical world

Dreams and magic unfurled

***

The very first look,

A mother is born

What greater magic?

***

Touched my heart

Without touching me at all

It's magic, I'm sure.

***

There was something about her

I can't put my finger to it. 

The way she would figure out,

What I wanted to say.

Her ways, her walk,

Had me enchanted.

Captivated

Hooked all the more

When she spoke

I felt daisies erupt around me

In silence did her fragrance

Lure me so.

There never was darkness with her

Sunshine or moonlight

Kissed my face 

With her presence.

Oh when she touched me,

It was exquisite silk.

Comfort, passion, warmth

All at once.

For years she stood with me

A silent companion.

My everlasting strength

A personal prayer.

An enchantress, a witch

A beautiful mystery.

It was magic!
She was my magic.

***


Thank you Team BlogAdda! :)

Hope

Secret keeper

Grim reaper

He shall suffer the wrath.

That who knows

The whole truth

He shall suffer the wrath.

Trust betrayed

A life failed

What use friend or foe?

Gloomy days

Shaded ways

What use friend or foe?

Understood not

Intentions cruel

The story of their life.

Kinder hearts

Beat so fast

The story of their life.

Crystals fall

Unto the eyes

Shall he know at last.

Beckoned fate

Hope awaits

He shall know at last!

**

Ps. Stormy mood, Restlessness..it shall pass.

Golden waves

Yesterday I sat at the seafront for hours with a friend. It was oh so refreshing and thought provoking.  So I immediately snapped a photograph of it. Later my dear blogger friend Namrata gave me an idea to write something based on the photograph. As I put to paper my thoughts,  here's what I came up with.

**

Rocks of solid glittering gold

Immerse in the waves

A froth of white surrounds.

Waves engulf another, yet can't hide,

The beauty of the sinking sun.

**

I stand below the sinking sun,

The waves they beckon me.

What is it that troubles you? They ask

What is it you seek?

**

Oh how a cloudless day it was, 

As you and me stood upon the shore.

The waves they seemed to reflect my mood.

White crashing joyously against the gold,

A prelude of the days to come,

When in marriage we would unite, 

Me, a blushing bride in white,

You, stood with a ring of gold.

**
Which one did you like best? Please do let me know :)

The song of the wind

The wind whistles softly,

Over the cold sturdy rock.

The names carved in stone,

Witness of their existence.

Words assign them equal.

In graves they lie in peace.

The only companion, being 

A lone chirp of the sparrow.

Withered flowers remember, 

Aromas that honored the fallen ones.

Forgotten sighs lie,

On eternal beds of stone.

An old lament can be heard,

The lullaby the wind sings.

Hold it still

While writing this particular poem I was rather upset, yet was feeling a little content, a little excited, mingled with a little fear. I didn't know how to bundle it all up. So there's two aspects to the poem. The first is rather gloomy, dark and captures the essence of fear, pain and worry. 

The second one was written a few hours later. Although I meant it to be a Stormy mixture of excitement and fear, I couldn't put the two together. The second aspect is that of thrill, fantasy and all things 'rainbows' as it was pointed out to me by my dear sister. Hope both aspects reach out to you as they do to me.

Take one:

There's a storm inside me

And its growing each day.

How do I capture it?

Hold it still.

Bubbling with fury.

Gripping with fear. 

Bursting inside. 

Hold it still.

Too many thoughts gathering,

And answers vary so. 

Questions are in my mind

Hold it still.

Flooding with insecurity. 

Weeping with pain.

Throbbing within. 

Hold it still.

For you may try and scratch, 

The surface of it all. 

Yet moving it remains.

Hold it still!

Filling with worry. 

Gasping with care. 

Hurting below

Hold it still.

Take two:

There's a storm inside me

And its growing each day.

How do I express it?

Hold it still.

Bubbling with fantasy

Gripping with fun

Bursting inside. 

Hold it still.

Too many things gathering,

And answers vary so. 

Your thoughts are in my mind

Hold it still.

Flooding with love. 

Filling with play.

Skipping within. 

Hold it still.

For you may try and touch, 

The surface of it all. 

Yet jumping it remains.

Hold it still!

Filling with tenderness. 

Gasping with care. 

Excitement below

Hold it still.

Prayer

In prayer I bow, 

All worries fade away, 

My existence proof of your being.

***

What makes you write?

I want to write

Poetry that frees my mind.

The constant chattering that keeps me awake each night.

I want to put on paper every minute detail.

Every drop of my being and every breath of my life.

I want to write

Poetry that finds a way.

To perhaps another lost soul like me.

Someone who wants to find voice through my words and can express in my words what they feel.

What is it that keeps them up at night?

I want to write

Poetry that gives hope.

After each night spent in wakefulness, 

There comes a brighter day.

There comes acceptance and understanding. 

Making me wiser than before.

I want to write.

Yes I want to write.

For there is no way better to express myself, 

Discovering and accepting my thoughts,

Through rants I call poetry.

****

So I stumbled across this photograph on Facebook with the caption, complete the sentence "I want to write ..." I stared at it for a good minute before I scrambled for a pen and piece of paper to scribble on. The above was what I did write. I didn't intend to publish it to be honest, but then I realised it was a great way to interact and know what would you fellow bloggers want to write about too. After all, a Facebook post compelled me to write this one!

What do you want to write? Please do mention below in the comments :)

Conversations

I feel so lost tonight, 

As a lost soul for shelter does seek.

A hungry reminder of your thoughts. 

Invades my sleep, invades my dream.

Didn't you see the extent to which I had drowned myself?

To the way I had confided in all?

You stomped away when you pleased.

Not once glancing back to see.

For that's what happens when you make home of people,

And share In your deepest secrets.

They turn about and leave.

Not once sparing another thought.

I waited for many a days to come.

A sign of your return, perhaps you would someday remember? 

I couldn't blame you for all that,

For I know you far too well.

Far away have you gone already,

I haven't heard from you in a long time. 

Oh why do you trouble me while I sleep?

When shall I get that peace?

As I lie awake another night, 

On the windowsill do I sit.

Looking out at the darkness outside.

My heart with heartache does grip.

I cant believe the way I've become, 

The way that I do weep.

It can't be all for you my mind says.

But my heart does know the truth.

I can't stand the thought of another night, 

To be spent in a manner like this. 

Yet I know, the answer to my thoughts, 

A couple more nights do I have more like these.

Just another word: goodbye

Trembling hands.

Quivering hearts.

Mumbling lips, goodbye.

Silences Resounding

Words are the only weapon I have.

Silence is the only shield you've got.

Not once did you stop me.

From accusations I threw at you.

Could it be that it was true?

Or was it your mere resignation?

It remains to be a mystery.

That I shall know not.

Your absence has made it clear.

**

Your words slice through my heart

I remain silent..scared.

My speech would've betrayed me.

Told you my heart's true desires.

The truth shall remain a mystery to you

You deserve a content life.

Not one of mourning and sorrows

Only a few breaths shall I take

Silent I will be for eternity.

The rope outside my window

Every morning as I wake up,  the first thing I do usually is look out of the window. It's become more of a habit for me now. It just feels fresh and lively, my way to enjoy the five minute peace before I kickstart my day. I enjoy watching the pale rays of the sun seeping In through the window. There's usually a few birds chirping, resting on the cable wires that connect the buildings together.

On one such day I noticed a couple of birds playing on a rope. They would swing about getting caught in the rope and within minutes would be free again. The following poem would perhaps explain it in a better manner.

**

I stand by my window,

Enjoying the beautiful view.

Of the vast blue sky

And the morning dew.

The times are changing,

I could see upto miles away,

Now buildings are creeping up. 

My vision of the horizon destroyed

There's a fifteen storey building,

Coming up right in front of me, 

Bound by bamboos and rope around

Covered in a massive green cloth.

The birds they would glide above it, 

Enjoying the vast blue sky,

Now they hover over it,

Like over a graveyard they fly.

Now there's a certain floor,

The tenth of the building I think, 

Which has a long rope hanging about,

Like a playrope does it swing.

I've seen many a bird stuck in that rope,

They seem to enjoy the hang,

Getting stuck and untangling themselves,

What goes on in their mind?

I wonder if anyone around me,

Notices the bird's little game.

I wonder what shall happen of the birds,

When the building will be complete.

Shall they hover about another building, 

Shall they continue the same?

Shall someone perhaps tie a rope,

For the little bird's game?

**

I was tempted

I knew this day was to come.

He would leave me.

Scattered. 

Broken. 

Beyond repair.

We could never be, 

he'd said.

I continued to love him.

 Each broken bit, 

Each inch of my being, 

Filling his flaws with my reason.

I drowned in his delicious words, 

Carried away by his waves, 

Surrendered my being. 

My body lit up at his name, 

My voice shook with anticipation

Fingers trembled at his thought.

What a sight he was!

Butterflies invaded my tummy, 

Words they were stuck.

In a whirl, as a storm would. 

Destroying me bit by bit. 

Upsurged my heart they did.

I was dying each day.

Yet loving him was deliciously sinful.

What was I to do? 

I was tempted.

I'm still tempted.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

What are you running from?

"What are you running from?" She read the scribble in the book lying on her lap.

Those few words made her heart race, it was as they were meant for her.

She'd drowned herself in literature.

Since when had literature begun to ask questions?

Sighing gently she turned the page.

**

Ben's Story

The world through the eyes of a child, when I read the prompt such possibilities ran through my head! I wanted the post to be childlike and innocent, devoid of any worry, free flowing as such. So I've come up with Ben's story. One that is quite easy to relate to, the vocabulary limited to a ten year old's. The poem, a child's rant. I hope I have done justice to the same.

***

I am a little boy,

A little boy of ten.

I'm not so old I suppose,

So my name is little Ben.

My father calles me Benjamin,

For that's my whole name.

My mother she calls me Benny,

Why can't everyone call me the same?

For I quite like the name Ben,

It makes me feel cool.

That's who my favourite hero is.

Ben Ten to the rescue!

I live in the old white house,

On the corner of the street.

It's the perfect place to live in, 

For my friends in the corner I meet.

We have a special hiding place,

A place that no one knows,

It's behind the fence of my old house,

Underneath the water hose.

I play with my best friend Jimmy, 

Although I call him Jim.

What's with adults and all the long names?

I don't understand a thing!

Jim and I have been best friends, 

For as long as we could be.

He has a lot of pretty toys, 

That he always shares with me!

For mum says I can have more toys,

When I'll stop being so naughty.

You're always hiding from my reach.

And pulling pranks on Lottie.

Now who is Lottie you may ask.

She is my little baby sister.

I like to pull her hair at times,

Her favourite candy is twister!

I think my mommy and daddy,

Do love her more than me.

She's always getting more presents,

She's only three you see.

But mommy says she loves us both, 

And made me a chocolate pie.

For chocolate pie is my favourite dish,

That I can't deny.

I heard my daddy tell mommy,

Just the other day,

We're running out of money soon,

We need to find a new way.

I suppose I could give them my piggy bank,

Although it doesn't have much. 

I was saving up for my favourite bicycle. 

I'm not using it as such.

But mommy says I needn't do that, 

She gave me a tight hug and kiss.

Now daddy's gone away some more,

Him do I terribly miss.

He does send home a lot of toys,

Toys I now share with Jim.

There's even some for Lottie.

Although mum is always grim.

Jim says its because daddys away,

That mum is always so sad.

He's quite the sensible boy I think, 

For he doesn't have a dad.

So I try to be a good boy,

A better boy for my mum.

I don't play pranks on Lottie either,

As we wait for dad to home come.

***

What comes to mind for the March WEP challenge - Through the eyes of a child? Rewriting a passage from a child's POV? A montage of images through the eyes of a child? A poignant or exhilarating poem? A non-fiction piece told from a child's POV? The possibilities are limitless!

To read more click Write.Edit.Publish

Girl against the world

Do you have fire they asked?

Do you breathe that air?

The one that's needed today.

To make you a successful heir.

Are there types I asked?

Stumped by the lot.

Yes, they said glumly, 

Tell us what have you got?

Do you have the passion, 

To take what it needs?

A drive for success,

A hunger like greed?

I am but a child,

I said, small and shy.

You'll crumble in a day,

They said, should you even try.

For no person is spared,

In this race we call life.

You've got to face it all,

The elation,  the strife.

What happened after,

Wouldn't you like to know?

I'm still a learner in life. 

I'm taking things slow.

***

Image: Painting by Bella Pilar

On fading

**

Musky, woody, manly.

A dash of citrus and lime.

Lingering in the air around her.

His fragrance fades with time.

**

Image:Taken from here

Admission of hell

**

The pages of life

Crumpled a bit

Burning bright

Curling

Slowly Unfurling

Revelations are at large

A mystery unravelled 

Shocking all

Desperate

Your Illfate

Battered diaries I have

With folded corners

Leather bound

Rusky

Nostalgic Musky

My Demons playing inside

Hide and seek

Silly game

Caught

In the Slaught

He dies unnatural death

An eternity doomed

Fearsome ways

Farewell

Into hell

**

Image google