a silent vigil

the ice has taken hold between the two passages,
carrying the crystal white burden of dreams
and the languages of intrinsic qualifications –

to choose the fog over mist, slush over dirt,
and to keep frozen into stone all deals upturned,
all wishes parted by a moment’s touch –

lost is the sudden acquaintance with sensation,
I am near the end, I am at the edge, always dazed,
glorified by the fear of tumbling down – just the bliss
of never seeing the light

for it’s hard to dream with open eyes, for it’s hard
to see through your lips where you reside –

who ever said that this mosaic of understanding is fulfilling?

that blithe sun has devoured all else.

you are the halo, the shadow, the skin to my desire, the symbol
to this paradigm of pain,
and I keep up my silent vigil,
I wait.

.
Linking it up with The Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads.

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let me be.

I walk in the shadows-

there’s a slight rustle of the leaves
overhead.

the sun touches my foot-steps
through the smog,

evanescent,

there’s a slight rustle of the leaves
behind me.

the cloud breaks open to reveal
the spillage of blue, her eyes

trace the contours of my existence.

numb thoughts are strewn on my path,
the world is asleep and I, awake.

so let the winds be, let me be.

.

Image source: LIGHTS AND SHADOWS — PALETTE KNIFE Oil Painting On Canvas By Leonid Afremov

Linking it up with Poets United Midweek Motif- Tranquility.

This is Poem # 4 for my 30 Days, 30 Poems Challenge.

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
emotions.

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

Affection Haiku

kiss of the sunlight

the rose bushes turn scarlet

nature’s affection

~

nature’s affection

birds lunging to horizon

gentle blowing wind

~

And inspired from Kristjaan’s love haiku,

shadows of the night

hands held under the black cloak

hiding affection

~

a love is lovely

let it fly high with free wings

accept affection

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courtesy of google images

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 238.

Taue (Rice Planting) Haiku

reflecting shadows

puddles of water on fields

workers in sedge hats

~

fields filled with water

men descends to place seedlings

gilded performers

~

women in kasa

traditional performance

the paddies planted

~

bow down in prayer

planting the mother earth’s womb

promising fine crops

~

young girls singing songs

hoping for a good harvest

time for festival

~

aura of dances

enhanced crop’s vitality

melodies in air

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 220

Our True Selves + Story of the Swamp Deer and Us

A different way of seeing yourself… Seeing yourself in a different light- it would definitely show you the inner-most feelings that you’re trying to hide even from yourself. You may not even identify the person you really are. And that is the path where we all fail in loving ourselves- the true ourselves.

I had heard a long time back,

In the days of childhood,

The story of a swamp deer,

Who adored his lovely antlers,

Sitting atop his head.

This was the personality of his,

He really really adored,

But couldn’t see his flexible legs,

Because they were ugly.

He had a false perception of himself,

Which just covered his beauty,

He could no more see his real power,

The power that his legs beheld.

Once going through the forest by the lake,

Admiring the shadow of his lovely antlers,

The swamp deer heard the loud call,

Of the vicious predator wolves.

The voice came from nearby,

And the deer knew this time is so wry,

He started to run away from the voice,

But till then the wolves had got his trail,

And now were now behind their prey.

The swamp deer started running away,

And soon it seemed he had lost the wolves,

All thanks to his long flexible legs,

That gave him the power of running so well.

The swamp deer took a deep breath of relief,

But still in order to save himself,

Made an incentive to hide in the long bushes.

As he entered the bushes, everything went loose,

For his beautiful antlers got stuck in the bushes.

He tried, struggled to get them free,

But there was nothing he could do.

All his struggles were in vain,

And all of a sudden again came the howl.

It seemed as if the prey has been found again,

The swamp deer tried to get himself free,

He struggled even more and more,

And now even cursed God for his beautiful antlers.

The rest of the story goes like as what you can imagine,

The legs at first saved the swamp deer,

But his beautiful antlers brought him death,

For he could not accept himself fully,

He couldn’t know his real power,

That resided in his legs.

Similar is the case of us all,

We get a perception, we love ourselves,

For the image we have of us in our minds,

But the powerful truth resides in our feelings,

Within us, hence, it is time for us to embrace “us”.