A cold rain starting
And no hat —
So?
~
drenching me throughout
a cold rain spattering down
clothes cling to body
~
tilted umbrella
drops soaking the plastic face
thunder up above
* The first haiku is written by Basho. And the other two are my own inspired creations.
She was bruised.
“You have come so late. Where have you been?”
She silently drifted towards her room without answering and latched the door. And there she fell at that very position on her knees and the tears welled up in her eyes. Her mouth gaped open and a muffled voice of shock escaped her mouth. She bit on the curtain so as to prevent her wail be heard by anyone.
She was retching. She ran towards the washroom while bile rose up in the back of her mouth and she puked her miseries out.
She couldn’t believe what had happened with her.
“It is my fault.” She wiped away what was left of her mascara and lipstick and rubbed her papery white skin. The tears had dried out. She clawed at her face.
“It is my fault.” She faced the mirror.
“I am bruised and it is my fault.”
* Written in response of VisDare 27.
The rusty door creaked open.
“The house seems to be abandoned since forever.”
“It is spooky.”
“I like spooky things,” he held her hands grinning like a fool, which she adored and entered their abode for the summers.
“There will be so much work to do.”
“I have called for the workers. They will come tomorrow and make the place livable for us.”
They had reached the center of the lobby and took a look around at the ancient tapestry and crimson walls in the mid-afternoon light; the floor was bare but for a carpet bathed in dust and a grandfather-chair in a corner.
“This house is not haunted, is it?” she meekly asked.
“Oh yes it is.”
She gasped at the mad look in his eyes and that cruel smile, she had never seen before. She trembled from within as some red fluid appeared on his lips and he snarled.
She ran for the old rusty door but it was somehow locked. She hastily looked back but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh god… oh god…”
A loud banging sound resounded from somewhere. Tears appeared in her eyes, “Please save me… oh please!”
“What has happened to him?”
She crouched down still at that very position and felt a dull ache at her chest.
Some one was coming for her; she could hear the footsteps, soft but not silent on the carpet. They sounded distant. She was in a dream world; sweaty, her entire body numb but for the sharp pain at her chest and her ribs.
“Are you okay, darling?”
“I was just joking with some help from…”
She felt a soft touch on her face and she looked up at him, into his eyes, now completely normal, gazing at her with fear or was it love, she did not know. She closed her own eyes shut, never to open them ever again.
*Written for the Trifecta Challenge.
scattered in sand
embers of a saltwood fire
face to face with stars
~
bright red still smoldering hot
touch not, but savor the warmth
* The challenge was to compose the Tan Renga: I have written the second stanza in order to do so. The first stanza is by the poet Jane Reichhold.
* Written in response of Carpe Diem’s Tan Renga Challenge.
blooming peonies
flower of riches, honor
odoriferous
.
the secret sender
sweet passion, admiration
budding peony
.
the king of flowers
hiding the mischievous nymphs
from the lust of gods
.
sent through the window
of heart, a bunch of botans
for the beloved
.
blushed pink and purple
the face of the young maiden
peony colors
* Written in response to Carpe Diem # 215 Peony/Botan
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