A Pithy Smile

I'm missing yesterday's smile of you 

It was magical, made of moonshine 

I thought of visiting you again hours

later, as I wished to see it glint again

 

It was your final pithy smile for me

A talkative girl's silent departing gift

Like a touching speech by an orator

Prepared with soulless emptiness

 

I regret not taking you out in a steam  

Train, that whistles like hustles of rain

Through the snow caped valleys that

You wished to see during last winter

 

You were jaded, as I was so jealous of

your friends, who stole away the time

that I wished to keep aside for ourself

I wish I had words to melt your heart

 

I've read your journal about our breakup

You were sad and let the tears sooth the

pain, You were conscious about state of

my mind, but you chose to remain silent

 

A poem based on word prompts from #WriteMap #moonmystic #poetryprompt #BraveWrite #WIPWordSearch #WordSoupDaily#atreyasverse. Image from Unsplash Thanks to Michael Dam 

An Analyst's Block

I was so excited when I moved to Pune to be  

A market research analyst with the start-up, I associated with for two years

It was my dream job and I had to wait for years for an opportunity

I was struggling with a break-up and a sleep disorder

I was unaware that I was under depression

After a slow start, I enjoyed being involved in all aspects of that firm 

I loved researching markets and analyzing qualitatively

with the tools and techniques available

Finding new trends, technologies and updates 

Then the doctor advised me to quit the medicine and I got

a new medicine of lower dosage, My struggle started right there 

I started losing sleep and I couldn't focus on research

I had a short break during an important week as I struggled 

    I would sit for hours in front of the laptop to only write a few paragraphs 

I started getting headaches, and my world moved slowly 

It was embarrassing, as I couldn't engage in tight deadlines 

I started losing my temper and my frustration increased 

I was working on reports on my own and had targets 

I refused to get involved in an urgent report and company profiles

One day, I felt I couldn't do anything anymore and I asked my 

team leader to let me go home and work from home 

The company owner and team leader decided to allow that  

Provided I meet the monthly targets 

For days I sat blankly in front of a laptop trying to do company profiles 

No matter my efforts, it felt it was beyond me 

I had unfinished reports in front of me and I couldn't finish 

Without medicine, I struggled to sleep and I tried walking 

To tire me and induce sleep, and it took a while for it to work

But still, I couldn't write a thing on my report 

Slowly I was able to research and study other markets

But still, I couldn't do the company profiles and it gave me so much stress 

I had to quit my job and return home and had to engage in another field  

I was diagnosed with depression and I came under medication 

It helped me to come out of stress and be more focused on tasks

The lockdown made me sit at home and do research for a project 

I found research exciting again and spent hours every day 

Then I got a chance to associate with another market research firm

And it gave me the confidence to be a freelancer and found work through analysts 

Then almost two years later, I was doing company profiles in bulk 

And I was doing market research reports again with excitement

It was magical, as I was able to do something I felt was beyond me 

It was like a long writer's block for me that affected my career!

PS: I still wonder why I couldn't do one particular task. It was beyond me at that point. I found it easy later. I am going through another phase of it after an ambitious attempt to come out of medicines. The reduction in dosage left me struggling to do the simple task that I used to do with ease. It doesn't affect my creative writing though. Depression has taken away the joy I had with my work. I had to write this to motivate myself again and continue with my efforts. 

Languages of Life

I can't comprehend the language of love

anymore, I feel I am a new born illiterate 

After unlearning the love and it's mirage

I have frozen the memories in my mind  

I have closed the doors of my faint heart 

Maybe, I am getting older to like misery

Maybe, I am finding peace in the voids 

That I didn't try to fill with a new person

I found my old hobbies more exciting 

That I started doing things I gave up 

I learned the art of gratitude to appreciate

The small things that give me happiness 

I am gifting my precious time to silence 

I am hearing the voices from the nature 

I'm delving deep into the novel thoughts

I'm praying calmly to the god for guidance

I'm dreaming silently about a new destiny

I'm giving my pen ink to write new words

It has opened the floodgates of poetry 

In a way, I am relearning languages of life 

A poem based on wordprompts from #inkmine . Image from Unsplash 

Deception

Her moonlit glasses
Hid her bumble eyes
Wandering around to
See the man who fell
For her beguile words
and smile, Her hollow
love had razor's edge
To win disputes with
him, Everytime they
faced fights of egos
She thrived in poems
He wrote about her
He was drunk in his
Innocent love for her
She's just abiding time
Enjoying the glitters of
his company, Until his
purpose in her life ends
He was dreaming about
An impossible life with her
He didn't realise that she is
a mirage that he cannot own
She would fly away like a bird
When she come across another
man, Who is rich and more exciting 

This poem is based on word prompts from #vss365 #crowcalls #vssmagic #ThePush #Wordsofglass #moonmystic and   #FridayPhrases

Image from www.dreamstime.com

An Exodus From Arcot

An exodus that never made any waves 

Under the siege of British colonial army 

Long before the formation of India union

A break away group left the native Arcot

Leaving behind their wealth,and heritage

To avoid life under the captive of enemy

Found refuge in the southern travancore 

Locals ostracized them as the outsiders 

Treating them as unequals in all sectors

They were served tea in coconut shells 

They became a new community with

New narrative and a new resolve to fight

The successors revolted against British 

They chose to seek education for kids 

At the cost of surrendering the identity 

When India became sovereign nation 

They stopped speaking their lingua Tamil

They stopped celebrating their customs 

They became malayalies like the natives

Celebrating the festivals of the Kerala 

They have slowly attained prosperity 

None of them tried to go back to Arcot 

They wonder if locals will welcome them 

More than a century after the exodus 

This poem is about a section of a community that had to relocate from Arcot near Chennai  to travancore/Kerala during British onslaught in 19th century. It changed their lives. They had to rebuild their lives with new realities and identity.  Missionaries gave them education. They chose education over social status. They became a new community with privileges attained for being backward in their new native.

The High School Dictator

This poem is written for a guest post on Jamie Adams's website  https://jamieadstories.blog/  

I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to Jamie Adams for this opportunity. This is my first guest post ever. Corporal punishments are now banned. This poem is about incidents that happened more than 24 years ago. 

I saw a dream 

I was back in my high school 

Again to learn some discipline 

There were total strangers 

But a man stood out 

He was the dreaded frog-eyed man 

The principal and headmaster 

He had difficult eyesight, 

But he had a good hearing capability

He had strict rules for the school 

The school was silent like a library mostly

Smacking with a stick was legal in 

his era, If you're late, you get 

smacked, We had  fearful days in 

school, Teachers looked for a reason

to expel us from the class, To be 

caught by him during his long walk   

 twice a day, Looking for preys to take to 

the office room, To give warning and smacking 

Students tried to do homework at all costs, 

We tried not to make any nuisance,

Even during class with no tutoring due to fear, 

It's more fearful if he asks to bring our parents, 

He would talk about the performance of 

ward at school, And our parents give him the right

to discipline their wards, He would mercilessly

fail students who he doesn't have faith, In  keeping

the hundred percentage record of the school, 

in the state level exams in the tenth standard, 

Those who survive the cull had extra classes,

And he used to monitor our progress closely, 

We had to get a signature from a parent, 

That we did all the tasks on the checklist daily, 

Without that teacher would make us stand, 

We would hide on the sides of the window,

As he has difficulty seeing around, 

One day he caught me standing during the 

lunch break, I was asked to perform 100 squats 

publicly, With my hands on my ears, The school's 

good reputation was built by him, More than fear,

The urge to get good marks drives students to study

hard, The pride in being part of the glory of the school

help us too, It's funny to think now, he taught us not to

waste food, He used to check our lunch boxes after eating,

He taught us to wear dhoti, By making it a uniform on Fridays,

He was in front to feast us on a special day, The one rupee coin

he gave on Vishu is still special, The school assemblies and his 

address, Remain a distant memory!

I saw my high school principal again in my dream last night. So I felt he is an appropriate topic to write on. I was scared of him and his punishments. He had an aura about him. Image from Adobe Stock. 

Llama

A guy in Dubai drank

Too much liquid of midnight

Celebrating his success in the desert

He wanted to raise a camel as his pet

He  searched for it in online pet stores

He liked the smile of one and bought it

He forgot about it until he got a call

From a delivery company, to receive

The animal he bought from Bolivia

He had no memory, that too from 

Bolivia, He checked his internet history,       

To find the day he shopped online,            

He saw the confirmatory email for                

the shopping, He was amused when             

he saw the llama, Not a camel, it had a            

head like a goat, It was a small animal              

full of fur, it had an infectious smile, 

He found out that it was from the Andes

mountains, He still liked its smile, But 

he wondered how to raise it in the desert! 

He set up a cooler enclave on his farm, 

And he placed an order for a couple more, 

For giving company to his llama!

A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #2WordPrompt Image from Unsplash 

Larkspur Wish'

When the velvet dusk haunts moon,            

I will be waiting for you with            

Larkspur flowers

I want to put them on your pink hair,          

To make you gleam at night with              

shy smile 

I will end my woeful wanderings,

for listening to the soulful music that            

you play

And you will see me dancing wildly to the

music of you, and lose in potion of             

your love

The purpose of my life is to build a new life,

 with you in an estuary of                  

your dreams

 A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #BraveWrite #moonmystic #VIVpoem #vss365 #WIPWordSearch Image from Google 

Temple For You

I want to look for a mount

Like Olympus in the Asgard

Not the haven of the gods

But a kingdom of the demons

To build a big temple for you

In the valley with thick forest

And rocks for an ideal pilgrimage

Columns like in Greek temples

Arches like in the Persepolis

Structure like a mini colosseum

Atop, a pyramid like in Egypt

Minarets around like in Arabia

Flooring with the Italian marbles

Sanctum sanctorum carved in a

Single granite from the Karnataka

I’ll keep a sculptures of your demons

I’ll worship it with my poetic verses

Sprinkling heavenly scents of attar

And bunch of Jasmines that you like

I'll lit the temple with camphor lights

In the midnight I will pour blood on

Deities to quench its insatiable thirst

I’ll offer gifts from the occult priests

Fulfil their wishes with your demonic

Powers that you used to destroy me !

Your greed and arrogance will be the

 Offering for the ooccultist pilgrims

Who have cruel wishes to fulfil at the

Expense of miseries  of their rivals!

 

A poem based on #reevesroses word prompt . Image from MasterFile

An Old Fisherwoman

 A lanky old woman 

With a holy cross attached to her chain

Carried a big Aluminum pot

Full of fish on her head 

She travelled by buses to faraway 

Places from her shore to sell fish 

She walked kilometres every day 

Be it summer, winter or monsoon 

She had a set of houses to give fish 

Yet she would hide some for us 

If she gets special fish on occasions

She would keep the fish at our home and go

Without waiting for payment 

She would say, give it later 

She always gave fish at a fairer price

Her relative used to work with my father

She always had an attachment to our family

She brought us fish for more than a decade

We don't get the fish like she used to bring, now

She shared tales from her life and shore 

How the landscape changed with foreign money

And how the sea tides have changed their lives

She had no kids and her husband was no more

She lived with her sister's kid 

She sold fish until her health deteriorated

She never liked sitting idle at home 

She prayed for us in her church 

Her belief is still strong 

She made wishes for me 

When I had a struggling phase

She used to bring a cake 

and sweet red wine 

During every Christmas 

That's something we miss now

She is into her nineties now

Still talks to Mum once in a while 

A Kerala saree is  waiting to be gifted to her

She is like a relative without blood relation

Some relations are deeper than blood relations 

Women like her are inspiring, who battle life 

On their own, even in their old age 

We still talk about her when we buy special fish

Image from DreamsTime 

My Village From Memories

I grew up on a hill  

With a Church next to my home

There were no roads back then

A path could let only one person walk

Along the steepness of the hill

I dreamed of a road and buses plying 

one day 

The tapioca fields filled the barren land 

Coconut trees filled the other parts 

A narrow river was the lifeline 

of the paddy fields on the plains

There was an unfinished temple

On one shore of the river 

There was a low stone bridge connecting the hills

Often get flooded during the monsoon

People used to catch fish using primitive ways 

Sand miners dived from boats 

 to dig sand from the depths

Leaving many deep patches in the river 

The paddy fields had big frogs and snakes

that was after them

Farmers used bullocks to till the paddy fields

and the mud spliced like art 

Ponds dotted the landscape 

With source nearby 

Small streams took the water towards

the paddy fields 

On holidays we used to sit on the walls

To look at the vehicles and rare buses 

A small forest of rubber trees 

Dotted in some parts

The market was vibrant with local produce

fish and other essentials 

It hosts events at night sometimes 

All major shops and restaurants were

closer to the market 

People kept slices of coconut to dry on the road

The aroma of coconut oil draws 

When you get nearer to the cold pressers 

During summer paddy fields made way for 

beans and vegetables

Some others tried their luck with plantains 

The telephone was rare in those days 

Even telly was there in a few homes

And the neighbours flock to watch 

Until the voltage goes down in the eve

VCRs were hired to play movies 

On the day before weddings 

The stages and shades were set up with

Areca nut poles and coconut leaves 

People were sent to faraway places

To inform the death 

The whole village helped in the mourning 

Older people would relish their paan

Old loudspeakers were tied to the electric poles

and trees during the festivals 

A canal brought water from the Neyyar dam

for the farmers in the hills 

I spent a lot of time playing in that canal 

In front of my home 

And I remember a literacy program 

That helped the elderly people 

To learn to read and write 

And the people used to share the fruits

in their land with the neighbours

And there were drunkards who loved 

drinking nearby the river and the canal slab

 

Image from Unsplash 

An Old Pier

An old concrete pier at Valiyathura

Leans towards the sea 

It has survived the waves for decades

And even the tsunami

It has steps to reach the waters 

It used to welcome boats carrying 

Rice and other cargo 

From the bigger ships anchored

On the deep sea 

It used to be a hub of smuggling too

As it is near the notorious area 

That sell smuggled goods from abroad

The remnants of old rooms still remain

Now the pier is a tourist spot 

Where people come to see the sunset

Feel the breeze from the sea 

And enjoy the beauty of the beach 

There are holes in the platform 

The fishes are visible through them

Crabs cling on to the columns 

Other fishes swim around them 

Anglers here use strings to catch fish

They wait patiently on the edges 

Until the fishes get hooked 

Unseen varieties are caught 

They keep them on the platform

For the visitors to see 

And the visitors' bargain for fish 

The fishermen jump onto the sea 

from the pier like Olympic divers 

When their boats make it to deeper waters 

They swim towards their boats as if in a race

Fisherfolks sell fish at the entrance of the pier

Other dwellers walk through the pier 

To sell snacks and fancy items 

I remember visiting the pier 

As a kid with my father 

I love sitting on the deeper end 

And watch the sunset and the fishing boats

A recent renovation has given the pier 

A fresh lease of life 

Image from www.keralatourism.org

Late Comer

Running briskly

With perspiring senses

Wildly beating heart

Checking the watch every other moment

To see how much time lost already

To calculate possible reaching time

To raise the speed

And to prepare for an abrupt entrance

There is a big price to pay

For getting late

A risk

Unworthy

As you stand to lose out

The savory moments upfront

Amongst the settled audience

Engaged fluidly up to the occasion

Then the door cracks up

Breaking the silence of even the noise

Making heads to turn around for a glimpse

To see the distracting latecomer

With countless eyes sprinkling spotlights

Walking past the aisle

Becomes nervy like on a ramp

Nodding the sorry with the eyes

And the bowing head

Whispering the excuse

From the shell of a sorry figure

Without any idea about the scenario

That persisted there

A messy catch up work remains

To be done, to get on level terms

With all those present there

With short enquiries for briefings

Fighting against the time  

To make up for the lost time

Before gelling into the zone

With the ease in breathe 

Scary, if there is scolding

Embarrassing

Funny, if there is mocking

Light-hearted banter for folks

There is always an awkward moment

Awaiting the late comer

Image from Vectorstock 

Waves Of Depression

I am falling slowly into a dark burrow of                                                                                                      Gem clipped thoughts on this sacred day                                                                                                  When the temple will host devotional aura                                                                                        Mythology, and spiritual kindling tonight                                                                                                    I will not be awake to experience that

I exude confidence and feel magnetic
Towards positive vibes and ultimatums
When I am high on medicines artificially
As if I humbled the valleys of depression
I feel I can face the stresses in an office

I am stumped by the flak of medicines
When I altered my path towards healing
First setback is bitter like radish mouth
A betrayal that hurts the woven dreams
Threatening the very desire to be sane

Emptiness will acquire a grip on the night                                                                                          Voices in my mind will surrender silently
I'll feel helpless, hopeless, and soulless
But I wish for courage twining my mind
To weather the storm down and survive

A poem based on word prompts from #2WordPrompt #vsslocation #vss365 #vssdaily #Better2sday #loveletters #moonmystic #crowcalls #atreyasverse
#BraveWrite. Image from Google. 

Let's Meet At Hill Top

Let us meet at Ponmudi hill top

We can embrace clouds at dawn 

And wander through the meadows 

Whispering the secrets from hearts 

We can observe the hillocks around 

And select the prettiest to set a home 

Let us light the candles at night

On the big rock resting on a stone 

When the breeze is gentle and cold

We can spot all the celestial bodies 

Maneuvering  along the astral plane 

And rewrite the stars with our fantasy

Let us wait for the late night rain 

That will hide the shy moon subtly 

And dance with our sodden bodies 

Brave the cold droplets of desires 

Until we find our way back to cottage

To quench the thirst of our wild souls 

A poem based on word prompts from #vsslocation #loveletters #vsspoem #wordsoupdaily #turningthephrase #vssdaily. Image from Trip Advisor 

I'll Bring You A Song

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we meet again,  On a misty morning in the valley, Where you love to sing with the birds

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we feel again, On a summer day in the beach, Where we met first surfing in the waves wobbling

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we hit again, On a spring eve at the pub, Where we danced in motions like high on cocaine

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we mate again, On a autumn night in the motel, Where we spent our date in a drunken state

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we play again, On a winter afternoon in the hill, Where we made snow man and woman

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when you say goodbye, On a rainy night in the highway, Where you  love to drive with the wind 

A poem based on word prompt from #loveletters 

I Want A New Love

I want to nurture a new love;

Tender like a childhood dream.

Encrypted with beauty of souls;

Devoid of earthly expectations.

I want to traverse the seasons,

in her solemn company forever.

Wandering through the miracles,

the earth offers us to experience.

I'll promise to build the world she

dreams to see and live until death.

I'll throw the coin on the fountain,               

to bring good luck for our journey.

Letting go of begrudging heartbreak, 

to provide an innocent feeling of hope.

A poem based on #reevesroses #loveletters #vsscollab #BraveWrite word prompts 

Image by Unsplash 

The Meat Ban

The government banned all meats 

Claiming that it hurts religious 

sentiments 

The band, 'New Age Hippies' sang 

'Nothing left to sacrifice', Let's 

Revolt 

They campaigned in social media 

With the keywords, 'Freedom to

Eat'

Their cult companions gathered in 

Front of parliament to protest

Loudly 

We want our meat and our right back

You're just the Harries' we voted 

Remember 

They started pelting the cheeses at 

Lawmakers who defended the 

Ban

While some of them grilled the meat 

In defiance, despite the threat of

Arrest 

A poem based on word prompts from #HumpDayWrite #turningthephrase #2WordPrompt #Better2sDay

 Image from unsplash 

Caerleon

A poem about one of my favourite place in #Wales. 

A Long Walk Home

A long walk home 

13 stories tall long suffering

With a broken heart drowning in silence

The bitter words from her

Tasting like a poisonous goodbye

Killed their nice journey together atonce 

The slow poignant steps

Ruing being steadfast in his love 

Agonised like a furious mount Vesuvius 

A desolate dark room 

Filling more pain in his mind 

Betrayed like an ally embracing enemy 

A box full of memories

Portraying years worth romance 

Looked like thorns in the garden of hope 

A hand full of blood tears 

Raining from the dejected clouds 

Mended all thoughts towards moving on

 

A poem based on #fastprompt and  #Turningthephrase image from weedutap.com

A Journey to Siliguri

He was mocked as foible

by the villagers, but he was polite.

He doesn't exist on the citizens' list

He was a migrant from the nation

on the other side of the Ichamati River.

He lived in a shack on the river shore,

His life revolved around the mangroves

in the river delta, He borrows a small boat

every day, to sail through the mangroves,

In search of valuables brought by the river currents,                                           

He mostly returns with only fish. One day he got a                                         

book clung on to the roots of mangrove, it was wet,                                         

He dried it on the roof, He was curious to know the                                     

content, but he was illiterate, He has never been to                                               

a school before, Local school children taught him to

read Bengali. It took some more years to read the book.                              

It was about a journey to the Siliguri, He was mesmerized                             

by the depiction of that town, a few months later he started                           

his journey to Siliguri to relive the book!

A poem based on word prompts from #vssmagic #vssnature #vss365
#wipwordsearch

Dark Shadows of Lost Love

I am watching the dark shadows 

Of the ones who left me 

Without a goodbye 

From the balcony of my somber mind 

I want to throw the crumpled papers 

In which I wrote love letters

At the shadows 

And burn them with fire from my heart

I want to desecrate the shadows with 

The ashes from the papers 

Painting my agony 

Smoke may reach them in nightmares

Depriving them the joy of peaceful sleep

Like I am suffering everyday

For one night for 

Reminding them the pain of losing love 

 

A poetry based on #DarkLines word prompt .

Her Memorable Picture

I saw her picture from 

Grand Mosque in Abudhabi 

In a black Abaya and Hijab

She is not a Muslim,

But she looked like one,

I never saw her that pretty before 

I've been seeing her from her teenage

I couldn't take my eyes off her smile 

She was glowing like gold in black sand

Her eyes sparkled like lights from mist

There was unusual grace and elegance 

I don't have words to narrate her beauty

I just wished to marry her with that smile

A poem based on #writemap word prompt

Image from Unsplash 

Key To Her Heart

 

It wasn't the right key, 

No, the lock has been changed: 

I am no more welcome!

Her heart has a new owner, 

who waited like a wily fox, 

to pounce upon our turmoil. 

The key I had was handed over, 

from another man,

who had a different ideology;

that she couldn't afford to carry,

for an entire life. 

She gave me the key with a caveat: 

that  she is a bird, 

I shall hold her in my hand,

but not catch her like in a cage.

I had told her:

I would love to see her fly high, 

chasing her dreams, 

I will catch her if she falls. 

I realised that she is indeed a bird:

who keep flying and meeting new birds,

spending time and banter at will, 

keeping her options open, if she's impressed.

She's less bothered about the partner;

She only cares about her happiness.

She can't bear any critique:

she need only praises, 

and someone who supports her,

even the wrong moves.  

I have breached that caveat:

She didn't wait for long for another adventure!

A poem based on #FromOneLine wordprompt. Image from Unsplash. 

A Prophecy

An astrologer adorning red 

with conch shells arranged on a wooden plate 

Idols and images of gods and goddesses behind

 The aroma of the floral offerings and scents in the air

The presence of spirits is felt when the large shell is moved

She closed her eyes and prayed with divine verses 

With a concerned face, she asked if I am ready 

To hear a prophecy that will change my life 

I prayed to the gods and goddesses to be kind

She, with an intimidating voice, told me that 

There will be a death in my house in a month 

No godly or evil force can stop that from happening

I was in shock, and my friend too felt the shock 

My father was sick and stuck in another city 

And I was about to visit to bring him home

It was a prophecy about my father's death

He survived a silent heart attack and  was 

Kept in intensive care unit for days upon arrival   

Even doctors said its hard to tell until two days 

He made recovery and made it home safely 

But he had to survive some more days in the hospital 

Again, I hoped that the worst days are behind and 

We held a puja at home for his wellbeing 

But only to see him gasping for breath

Within days, on a fateful Friday night 

I saw him leaving this world in my hands 

on the way to the hospital, exactly a month

After the prophecy! I spent those four weeks with him

With a belief that he will survive! But prophecy turned true!

Your Memory

Your memory is the pyre of my love 

It burns like fire of vivid images 

Of all moments spent with you 

It suffocates me with smoke

Of broken promises 

Its heatwave melt my frozen heart 

With an agony of lost dreams and years

Reviving a pain that refuses to abandon 

Me, Denying the closure my mind seeks 

A poetry based on #loveletters word prompt. Image from Unsplash.

 

A Bit Of Afternoon Rain

 

A bit of afternoon rain 

In a summer of funereal thoughts 

Drenching the soul with a new rosiness

Quenching the thirst of grains of trance 

When tomorrow comes 

The sprouts will emerge from darkness

Raising the flags of aspirations upwards 

Burying the demons of awe downwards 

The message from heart 

Is no more coos, it is louder than floods 

Extruding in the canvas of vivid colours

Exalting the bliss of liberty from worries

A poem based on word prompts from #FromOneLine #vssnature #poem #moonmystic #reevesroses #poetry #BraveWrite #1LineWed #vss365

#PoemADay Image from Pixabay

Eternal Lover

A chart of his maiden cruise journey

A  visit to countries in his bucket list

With a fem-droid designed for him

A beauty from the shores of Japan

She is going to fill his loneliness

She is going to spill his emptiness

She’s going to be his crime partner

She is programmed as per his wishes

She will express all human emotions

She will react to his emotional swings

He has coded his fantasies in her chip

All that he wished for someone else

He texted a message jubilantly

No, I am unfinished without you,not

I got a better version of you forever

An eternal lover who won’t change

With time !

A poem based on word prompts from

#BraveWrite #loveletters #crowstales

Image from AIST

Beach Dance

 

A poem based on word prompts from #NRRTG #BraveWrite #moonmystic #loveletters #HumpDayWrite #crowcalls

I Gave Her

 

A poem based on word prompts from #vsspoem #loveletters

Image from Unsplash