an object of wonder

her hair frazzled in wisps of clouds,
she whirls through the nightly sky,
her moon of a bosom glinting, an
illumination of the passing lives.

she whirls through the nightly sky
ever dreamy, in her every dream
of the enchanted orbs of her eyes.

her moon of a bosom glinting, an
evanescent sight of the heavens
I see, in the rifts of her movement, an

illumination of the passing lives.
she is but a miser’s thrift, an object
wandering (I wonder at) through the sky.


Written in consideration of dVerse MTB and Get Listed for October at With Real Toads.

Image source


humor me

humor me
by tying me up good
when we pass the sirens’ lair,
awaken me by your clairvoyance
as night ends.

a morning
begins with smile on
her illumined face as she
drinks the sunshine to become a star
going away.

laughing moon
glares at me again
to warn of the deep silence
that has broken down glass mirrors of

she has left
a note of goodbye
which invites the noise inside
where my bones lay fragmented into
naive splinters.

gloom sees me
and I see people
leading lives of dead humor,
they see me too when she uncloses
her dark eyes.


Written in consideration of dVerse where Mr. Tony Maude has prompted everyone to write modified cinquains, by adding one more syllable to every line.

Image source

This Hunt

nearing night, a shadow falls
into the uncomplicated arms of
twilight, the sun still sets,

there is a dark smile of an angel
that descends into a flood
submerging all the air, into

you extinguish the flame, by
a flick of your wrist, I sit
in the womb of a couch,
feeling for a tentative touch
to relinquish all desire.

a breath transcends when you
look at me like a fierce lion,
waiting for the right second to
pounce, and smear your paws
with my blood, and into the moon
eclipsed by a shadow of this hunt.

A shadow of transfixed and
curved delight.


At With Real Toads, Grace introduces us to the verse of the Mexican poet, David Huerta. Inspired from his writing and using one of his lines(translated by Mark Schafer), I wrote a few words. This is at best a first draft.
Linking it up with Poetry Pantry at PU as well.

Art by Karen F. Rose

Music Inspired Haiku: Moon in the Lake

tinkling of the bells

the blessed night mesmerizes

a glimpse of full moon


drink violet waters

a thirst for tranquility

lake from the heavens


tender to my being

plucking the moon from the sky

hide it in heart’s lake


*For Carpe Diem # 262 Moon in the Water; inspired by Karunesh’s Moon in the Water.

moon beam

The moon peered down at me through the haze, while I stool silent, lost in the reverent atmosphere. The sound of the waves was enriching and it filled my soul with a longing. And it seemed the tears would make an appearance but it wasn’t so. Their time hadn’t yet come because my longing wasn’t yet acknowledged by my soul. It was just a fleeting balloon away from the reach of my touch. But then the haze parted and the moon beam descended on me and I could see my flesh in the dark and I knew I was a breathing creature, not merely a conscious flying away in the oblivion. I recognized my longing and then those tears, I loathed and loved at the same time, spilled out but there were just a few of them. May be it was just meant to be so.

a piercing moon beam

all the past wounds torn open

realizing tears flow