Swept across: A Jane Reichhold Inspired Creation

sweeping the porch

bright prints of raindrops

followed by splashes

~

a silent bright noon

swept across the verandah-

moving shades of trees

*Written for Carpe Diem Special # 47. The first haiku is written by Jane Reichhold and the second one is my inspired creation.

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

innocent

innocent she was

in her resolute silence

 

innocent she was

in her underlying posture

 

innocent she was

in her gullible gestures

 

innocent she was 

in her worthwhile moments

 

innocent she was

when she thrived and dreamed

 

innocent she is

when she shed those pearls

 

innocent she is

in her emotionless words

 

innocent she is

in  her dead eyes

 

innocent she is

in her submissive forms

 

innocent she is

in her nude covers

 

a sculpture of innocence

she was, she is.

 

* Inspired by the photograph titled Innocent by amberafrica. It is extraordinary.

Aki Chikashi (Autumn Near) Haiku

silent noise around

a lonely stroll down the street

finding my way back

~

looking at the sky

warm sun caressing the cheeks

lips begin to hum

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 234. I know these haiku do not particularly match today’s theme. But it resonates with what nearing autumn means to me. The end of summer for me is the time when I can go for a stroll around in the city; being solitary even when I am am surrounded by a crowd. Autumn here is quite different; the trees do not shed leaves this time of the year. It is not so beautiful but it is beautiful, for it also marks the arrival of the major festivities. I now remember the autumn of the last year- it was peaceful, and it was a respite from the difficult time. I smiled, I talked to people- there was an unflinching voice within me reminding me of what I have been through and cautioning of what would happen in the future, but still I found some really good moments. Today at this stage I long for them, like when I was at that stage, I longed for a further gone away past. I have never been able to understand my longings for something which has gone or for something which resides in my fantasies. But it is so and I live with it everyday.

Old Age Haiku

story of a life

narrated by zig-zag lines

engraving the skin

~

remaining silent

words can never speak of it

life at its twilight

P.s.- Written in response of VisDare Challenge. I composed a story earlier, keeping in mind the image of the prompt but forgetting to consider the word.. so I ended up creating a tale with an entirely another theme and I tried but couldn’t include the significance of the word “engraved” into it. So, I have written these two haiku inspiring from the photograph. Again, the second haiku is devoid of the main word or any of its synonymous counterpart. I apologize for that.

Haunted

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.

Dripping: A 3 Sentence Story

The aged man was resting in the shade of the peepal tree on a hot and humid afternoon, when a sparrow maneuvered into the thick green branches, rustling the leaves in the otherwise silent atmosphere. The tired man didn’t notice the arrival of the newcomer. He just stroked his fingers over his cheeks where the bird’s dripping fell down over him, in his sleep.

* Written in response of the Trifextra Challenge.