the undertaking that a poem is

who saw that slithering liaison in the bushes?
it creeps forth as the moonlit sky grows dubious
of the possibility of its own virtue,
slyly, the sun peeks from the edges of a sight’s view,

a cuckolding cockerel rises and crows, an arrival
of a distant beam breaking the sweat of a dark cloud,
and a nice plumage hovers in the air
brightened by the prospect of that tantalizing warmth,

the stomach heaves, the chest sinks, and the velvet
dimension vibrates with that noise yet again,
there’s movement, there’s a curtain swaying
desperate now to be flung apart, and show the scene

of this instant, this momentary lapse of that beastly
no-man, clawing across the white that pervades
on my page, small prints emerge, the purity fades
and from nothingness, a poem springs forth, clinging

to the nature’s call, go on, go on, ask again, see again,
die again, but for a word that memorizes the soul,
and there’s light, and there’s lethargy in the voice
of that fiend, perhaps it’s the end with a final dot.

.

Linking it up with Weekend Mini Challenge at With Real Toads and Poets United.

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

.

Down the road she went…

down the road she went

with a letter in her hand,

summoning the post master,

she told him of her predicament-

he who was gone to war

had not returned back,

what had appeared was a sheet

smeared with a blood like seal,

she who could not read a single word

plead before the kind gentleman

to tell her what it contained,

 ~

the bespectacled man read carefully

and told her, her son was well,

that was what the letter said

while he faced away from her,

he handed back to her the sheet

and confirmed that her son was fine,

he had reached his final abode,

away, safe from war and hunger,

 ~

she shrieks, cries, wails, screams,

clutching the collar of his shirt,

and befell on her knees,

praying for who was never to return,

he supported her up and

they looked at each other,

waiting for the other one to

break that ominous silence

but it remained all still

while the sun dipped into the sea,

leaving behind a trace of red tinge.