Looping the dreams

Drawing by Francesca Miguieles

Bemused I look at my bloodied, skinned knees

Knees lacerated and raw from crawling all over

Over the jagged and cruel edges of reality

Reality which had been summarily discarded

Discarded foolishly in favour of  fanciful fantasy

Fantasy which turned into smithereens everything

Everything  now seems lost forever, but…

But now I am retrieving broken pieces of those dreams

Dreams thus fragmented, you may say, would do no good

Good times alas seem far-fetched and unreal

Unreal cadence of yesterday mars my today

Today the salt from my eyes may sting these dreams

Dreams that continue to lie shattered and prone

Prone and battered completely out of shape

Shape of my future splintered badly so

So I gently lay them away from the escarpment

Escarpment which beckons with suicidal notions

Notions that may make them fall off the precipice again

Again to be shattered and scattered all over

Over which I may cry no more but reconcile myself

Myself to the inevitability of stark truths

Truths that stare me in the face, yet

Yet, if even one dream manages to resurrect itself

Itself, of its own volition, it will be a reason to revel

Revel because dreams only work if we want them to.

Written for dVerse MTB. Today’s host, Grace, has asked us to write a loop poem today. Read more about it here.

Change for worse

At night the psychotic wind went berserk
the evasive brown grass waved crabbily
bits of paper twisted and turned curvy
like energetic juveniles
the urban jumble whispered grumpily till dawn

in the morning bathed in the alluring golden glow
the sentinel trees stand quietly watchful
monsoon’s remnant lies undisturbed
but these dregs do tell a bitter story
of displaced and moody seasons
waylaid by human greed
chagrined seasons restlessly look for home
having lost their compass  they have turned bitter with malice

no cooing flocks of doves
to offset the terrifying truth
the deserted path tells a tale
that has no listeners.

Written for dVerse poetics. Also inspired by Sadje’s wdys and Jane’s random word generator. Today’s host at dVerse, Lillian, says: Write a poem on any topic in any poetic form, that includes at least one of the flavors of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in the list. You can check the list here.

Acceptance ( a quadrille)

facing my fragile, filigreed fears
I stroke their susurrus
suppurating secrets
shivering at their vulnerable nakedness


bathed in my molten lava tears
they freeze at the static touch of my skin


mustering scraps of love I wrap them gently
finally anointing them with acceptance.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host, Mish, says: Write a 44 word poem sans title including the word “wrap” and post it on your blog or website.

My buttercup

From Pinterest

Your translucent skin astoundingly delicate
gingerly I run my fingers along the length of your tiny arms
how adorable you look curled up on your side
your toothless smile has me in raptures
my emotions palpably raw and overwhelming
I cradle tenderly your fuzz covered head
I listen awestruck to your rapid heartbeat
your petal soft cheeks I tentatively caress
your sweet breath gently tickles my neck
I dawdle over the silkiness of your dainty foot
marveling at the soot coloured lace like lashes
my eyes shimmer with joy,  my heart overflows.

Written for David’s W3 on Mich’s guidelines and Eugi’s weekly prompt.

Disclaimer: The oh-so-adorable babies are teenagers now and…

Hangover (revisited)

The half empty bottle of vitriol

that you left on my shelf

when you moved on

I take a sip from it everyday

the days, as a result, become palatable

but the nights need

something stronger

so I drink a cocktail of vitriol and torment

sometimes I add a dash of despair

and always garnish it with self-pity

but sadly it is still not potent enough

to knock me out completely

the hangover always leaves me

crying out your name in anguish.

Sharing it with dVerse OLN.

Stories; told, untold

Stories have no feet
yet travel
on wind or rain, through words and deeds
complete or incomplete
constantly in motion; like women
like trees; growing, branching
replicating over time
crossing man-made boundaries
finding familiar ground of love and greed
hate and destruction
uniting despite divisions

All stories are the same
and yet told differently
carrying seeds of the past
in the embryo lies the future
moving along jagged coastlines
meandering with rivers
soft as snowflake
like labyrinthine mysteries
unfolding symmetries
unknown to our minds.

Written for dVerse poetics. Today’s host, Lisa, says: Now that I have hopefully acquainted you with the concept and examples of fractals and connected them to poetry by subject and application, your challenge, if you choose to accept it, is:

1) Use any of the definitions, examples, images, or application of fractals to inspire you to write whatever strikes your fancy.

OR

2) Think about something/someone in your world that you have, up to this point, only given a superficial consideration of and decide to look a little closer at it/them. Use what you discover as fodder for a poem.

Stories are fractals. Read more about it here.

…and the music died

Poised on paper the pen ponders pensively
waits for words to flow uninhibitedly
but my constricted throat won’t let them pass

A sad tune plays plaintively in my head
the notes refuse to grace the white sheet that’s spread
poised on paper the pen ponders pensively

The heart feels emptied of all its contents
the mind is a cauldron of simmering intents
I wait for words to flow uninhibitedly

There’s rain that falls inside but eyes don’t stream
waiting for words is a sisyphean dream
‘cos my constricted throat won’t just let them pass.

Written for Sadje’s wdys.

Tenacity

From Pinterest

Curveballs, roadblocks also setbacks galore
doesn’t life like to keep me on my stubbed toes!
I stumble, I fumble, am often heartsore
but stubbornly refuse to wallow in woes
hands do reach out to support and reassure
everytime that I fall flat on my bruised nose.
a word, a smile, a hug often does the trick
I do take in my stride life’s nasty butt kicks
however hard hardships may connive and try
no amount of scudding drifts can make me cry
‘cos I may not have wings, but am meant to fly!

Written for dVerse MTB. Today’s host, Grace, says: For today’s Meeting the Bar/Poetry Form, we will craft a poem using 11 line stanza.

Eleventh Power is an invented stanzaic form introduced by Christina Jussaume who requests the subject be uplifting. The elements of the Eleventh Power are:

  • stanzaic, written in any number of 11 line stanzas.
  • syllabic, 11 syllables each, per line.
  • rhymed, rhyme scheme:   abababccddd or ababababccc.