Those who noticed, saw her beautiful hands
fingers long and supple
As brush, waiting for paints
Most didn’t see beyond eyes
cloud of messy hair
or misty coy glasses
‘Loneliness will become your problem, girl‘
said her mirror every day and
the fluffy rag doll-
that grew up with her;
she would look at it, tug it
but not play anymore
She drowned herself in music, adrift
never hum or tap her feet
to beats of her favourite songs,
No one could ever know she was singing inside
whenever she let out a silly blush,
They read shyness
No one heard her raise voice, let alone speak
Yet she SCREAMED
Deep within the chastity of agony,
deflowered at an age before boys
could bring her roses
‘Loneliness is the least of my problems‘,
she said to the mirror and the doll
before donning her mask –
Yet very few
Would see through through her semblance…
- Joining Dversepoets Poetics after a long time where KB has us create persona. Join us to read some wonderful poetry.
- Black Baccara is a wonderful and highly fragrant rose, chosen for its unique colour.
- Illustration by Partha Mukherjee.
A fine chocolate cake awaits
With magic candles,
Those will lit themselves
Even if you blow them out,
Tiny hands, claps – with
A silvery tiara and waving of a wand
I brace the clasps of sorcery
From a young witch
Blessed and proud a father
I pick her wand
When she is asleep
& try to write L O V E in thin air,
As if all the bad blood
From this world,
Will be expunged in a whiff
Even if all my tricks fail
every year, doesn’t mean
I should n’t try.
Join me on my poetics prompt on Dversepoets – look forward to read from beautiful poetry from all of you. Doors open at 3 PM EST.
|I paint my nights grey, blotches of white
and solitaire lampposts,
I don’t put my babies to sleep
Mischief dwindled, but awake
I paint my nights homeless,
Seek refuge in drizzle.
||Acrylic sinks on canvas
Coarse pigments afloat,
I paint solitaire smiles and
Rock my children to sleep,
They don’t, not tonight
I paint them meal – they famish
||Zest the colors, I must be
The worst creator of all.
Join me on my OLN prompt today at Dversepoets Pub and read some wonderful poetry. Doors open at 3 PM EST.
The only upside of relentless hours of wait in the hospital is that I am getting to read a lot; but hey! no books, of course, since my mind is too sparse at this moment to consume anything of that scale; so I had leaned towards reading blogs from a popular network. It gave me short and readable pieces that I could get along and also give me a fairly good birds eye view on what India is thinking, or at least trying to express for that matter from the limited art of expressions they have hitherto learned, for there is a vast variety if writers who are in different phases of maturity model.
Though I came across some really good ones and interesting ones and entertaining ones, one stand out in particular and I leave it to the sensible readers to take a call in which scale they would measure this one. After the Mumbai gang rape incident, the forums observed an outburst of anger, frustration and protest in various forms to which I myself was no exception. Then I chanced to find this entry which generated some kind of statistics comparing the volume of crimes against different sexes and since it showed male victims outnumbered female victims, this ongoing hiatus on female safety and security was a farce as it was actually the stronger sex whose immunity was at stake here.
I told him politely, wake up dude. Seriously, some jerks out there. The term jackass wasn’t invented for nothing.
P.S writing from mobile, should be hell lot of spelling mistakes.