On the Drying of Ink

My pen, on the scroll glides,
Wandering verses which my mind compiles.
A green body, a pasture,
The tribes, the sounds: the thoughts’ capture.
Their speechless tongues, their noisy eyes-
An inspiration for those under free skies.
And I, sleepless, and alone,
She waits patiently for me, my destiny etched in stone,
The blood soaks in through my eyes,
And like a trickle, slithers through mines,
And gushes down south, into ranches,
Untouched, virgin, unhurt and the invisible olive branches.
I long for my delirium, my memory,
O Musings! May you be the inspiration of my story,
Their silent people: and dreams…
A scratch on the parchment,
And the dried ink gleams.

The lost city

The dawn
comes peeping in through the hills.

Eddies in saffron waters swirl,
And the sails lazily unfurl,
The aroma of flotsam
And jetsam;

Unlocking the river-mouth,
The deepest green
Stares down the furthest south.

The riverbanks glean
Dead fish scales,
The wind feels
The boat’s shell and sails.

Out in the darkness they sail away,
All night long they sing and play.
Till they hear the fisherman’s mouth,
They work towards the river-drouth.
Footprints upon the cold sand bed,
To their captain, the imprints led.
Quoth he: “The one who lights the fire,
Earns the love of his Sire”.
A chilly wind begins to blow,
Round red moon begins to glow.
Man-on-man they all start a plunder,
Until the earth, begins to spilt asunder,
Fear grips, with dark face and stiff stance.
Quoth he: “What means this countenance?”
Like birds they fly hither and thither,
Till the round red moon starts to wither.
The skies dropped stones of fire,
They’d earnt the wrath of The Sire.
So, shout drowning man, when you founder,
Catch you glimpses of your blunder.

The dawn
comes peeping in through the hills…

Set sail infused with a tincture of the heart,
That had breached your whole life ashore.
Another beloved is offering you heaven on earth;
In her glance: perfection in poetry- everything.

Distances

Part I: Haiku

 

It grew like green-grass

From a bud-tender and fresh,

Gold drops graced its leaves.

 

And over the days

Greener it grew- and nurtured

The soil underneath.

 

And organisms-

Earthworms, beetles and rodents.

And above the earth-

 

Cows, goats and humans,

Each trampling it without thought.

Yet it survived. And,

 

It also lived through,

The hot sun and scorching heat.

Downpours and flashfloods.

 

Simple though it was,

‘twas oft misunderstood: And

Accused unjustly.

 

Part II: Triplets

 

And thus I lay down humble threnes,

On events that led to the scenes,

Give them a quick read, by all means.

 

Of unnecessary closeness,

Causing nausea and haplessness,

And imagine the painful stress.

 

Which led to tears- and thus she cried,

Far away a bleeding heart sighed.

Green turned yellow and thus leaves dried.

 

Part III: Couplets

 

Methinks its time to wrap it up,

‘long with the roots I pull it up.

 

And what was once calm and serene,

Has now lost a lot if its sheen.

 

As the roots, to the torque surrender,

Hearts which were one are drawn ‘sunder.

 

And thus ends a beautiful deed,

Or wait! Is that a fallen seed?

The Fugitive

Across the Atlantic walked a brother,
And lived a life like any other-
With suffering, joys, anxiety,
Or just sipping away tea.
But defying all laws,
one sunny day was
killed on a lawn.
And was on
the fly-
I

Silver lining

When I consider the faults in me,
That have caused loneliness to surround me,
The vernal showers have begun inside me,
Acid rains they are, that bruise and burn me.

With moist eyes and a morose face,
My footsteps do the footpaths grace,
Towards the muddy six-foot space,
The soft bed is my resting place.

Familiar faces at me smile,
For I have walked many-a-mile,
Away from my companions’ guile,
The desire to fight seems futile.

And now I rest beside my love,
And we stare at the skies above.

The silence we share speaks it all,
The pearly gates are pretty tall,
The white-robed angel makes us stall,
With this we enter a free fall.

‘Twixt joys and sorrows in the time-line,
Either is the others’ mine.

Skies split up; earth goes asunder,
With arms around one another,
We’re thankful for just being together.

While on the plane, he wondered his parents’ reaction on seeing his blond wife. “Well, then”, thought he, “the baby ought to calm them down”.

The saffron-clad walked beside the pyre, blabbered chants, dragged the cringing lady-in-white and pushed her behind the spiraling smoke.

The flaky sun-baked ground bore no green to repay the green. Fertilizers found better use as victuals.

Her eyelids parted in discomfort. Windows didn’t deck the narrow, dank, frightening walls. Years later, a tumultuous skeleton was unearthed.

To A New World

[Another 69er. Another 69 word flash fiction]

Unbearable pain. Aching heart. Glass shattered. Watery pearls deck the frightened face. Tangible gives way to abstract.

Stands a ghost on his way. Her laugh mirthful to excess.

Stumbles over the sofa. Stretches, grabs her. SLAPPED!

Youthful memoirs flash: the laughs, the silences, the star-gazing, the kisses, the walks, the tender touches.

Mouth foams. Breathing’s a schlep.

Sees his Ma. You’re dead, quoth he. Smiles she, so are you.