Last Glimpse

tracing torn path of life,

I tickle tired fingers of words,

engrave pictures on my dead skin,

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a glow then comes upon the sky,

spread over by dusk,

tending to me with a smile,

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still some clouds lift to

give the last glimpse, of the sun,

so I can hear the voice of her flame

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The poem comes into being by the rearrangement and slight editing of some of my tweets today. The “sixwords” and micro poetry tweets used are:

tracing the torn path of life #sixwords

hear the voice of candle’s flame #sixwords

only a glimpse of her smile #sixwords

tickling tired fingers of my words #sixwords

the sky had glowed all of a sudden,

even though the dusk was growing,

some clouds had lifted to

give the last glimpse of the sun #micropoetry

Be a part of my disjointed journey through twitter. You can find me at HowAnxious.

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Image source

I am going to link it up with dVerse OLN and Friday Flash 55.

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Twitter Haiku Collection

Here I am posting some of the haiku I have shared on twitter (@HowAnxious). I have arranged them in a way that you get to see a continuous slide of images:-

a bright sunflower

play of clouds and sun begins

touching the petals

 ~

sun burning orange

a dance with fiery dragon

evening flames of clouds

~

the sunbeam hours fold

blue-black-blue hues splashed across

fire coming to rest

~

thunderbolt of Zeus

a hapless beggar praying

monsoon shower starts

~

lightning strikes at night

silence abound everywhere

the devil’s treasure

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Bleeding Sun Haiku

evening noise abound

blue clouds streaked with crimson dots

path of bleeding sun

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*Thanks for all your support and kindness. I have taken my previous post off the blog. But thank you all those who shared kind words; I know I can count on you people to understand me.

Longing for Monsoon

The earth parched thirsty, desert sand blazing hot, waiting for those first clouds to make an appearance and pour down the nectar of life; every worm, every insect, animal, bird, aching for those drops to wash their body off, taking away the layers of mud and grime, they have coated themselves in, hiding away from the ball of fire, resting up above amid the blue expanse, still devoid of the white and grey monsoon shades, they long for. 

earth’s mouth open up

waiting long for single drop

gazing up above

*The haibun is written in response of Ligo Haibun Challenge.

Wide open sky: A Tanka

wide open sky

daunted by the master sun, 

bright yellow; 

forgotten are the old rains, 

the clouds do no longer cry…