you dream away
to a distant land,
shimmering
with a glow
unearthly,
never seen before,
.
you go prancing around-
letting your feet drown
in the desert sand,
raising your hands
letting them clutch air
and feel its feel
in the end,
.
sit under a silver tree
crimson fruits hanging,
curb yourself
from sinking your teeth into
the luscious…
Poetry
is
the language
of
the soul,
the heart,
its quill;
the thoughts,
its ink;
the mind,
its parchment.
kintaro doll up
held in palms of a young boy
mochi in the mouth
.
riding on the bear
stringing the carp in the air
the dragon breathes fire
* Submission for Carpe Diem # 213 Prompt. It is particularly based on the celebration of Boys' day In Japan. Since I have no knowledge of the festival, I read through the information available along with the declaration of the challenge and the one available on wikipedia and on the basis of that, I have created these two haiku.
Hello bloggers,
I got a wonderful opportunity to work with the lovely Merbear and you know what, we ended up creating this poem together. Please read and share your views.
leaving for her journey
She was binding her hair in a bun
Readying herself for the journey ahead
Which may take her to distances unknown
Bring in her the sense of being alive…
Hello,
I'm glad to inform you all that I'm publishing my first e-book right now.
It is titled The fragrance of the pouring rain and other poems by HA and here is the link:-
The fragrance of the pouring rain
I would be delighted if you all download it and then read it as well. Spread the word around; every one is welcome to download the e-book which is in pdf format.
a single ray of light in the dark room,
static at a particular straight line,
never moving, always staying there,
just fading when approaches the twilight,
and disappearing with onset of night,
making an appearance yet once again,
as sunlight comes through a new day,
faint at first, but reclaiming its shine-
the single light ray in the dark room,
where there exists nothing else but
a penetrating darkness all around,
isolated away from life and living,
where the only play is that of the light,
which comes by everyday, day after day-
the single ray of light in the dark.
the time will run out
the silence will end
the clouds would burst open
the rain would lash down
blood would flow
scars would show
the heart would be torn open
the mind would go haywire
the time will run out
disaster, hazard
the sky would fall apart
and the land would burst in flames
disaster, hazard
only pain, suffering
would linger in the end.
Finding a way out
through the maze
stumbling through this arena
with thorns covering the path
at every turn
I drift towards the center
and get lost.
I am strained with a burden
of confusion, of the truth-
Not accepting the truth,
remaining confused.
Specks of dirt
appear to have frozen
on the table top
which once was a hub of activity
where I would recline everyday
to get through things
to have a life
with a daily routine
These specks of dirt
now have frozen over it
they will get engraved soon
becoming a part of it for
it no longer has me
recline over it,
getting through things
life is changed,
table top has changed
and I have, as well.
The blue expanse up above
so wide, beneath which
all our lives astray
no path, just a foggy trance
confusion, delusion, askance
this life does nothing but betray
teach us all the lies, this bitch
of feelings, of emotions, of love
there is nothing but that blue thing
under which we all suffer and sing.
P.s.- Another one written just like…
Looking at the rising sun
through tears-
the veil of the eyes
it rises up
the tears fall down
Through the foggy eyes
I see the sun rising
spreading its shine
through the foggy eyes
I see the falling tears
glistening in that sunshine
giving some spark to my face
making me look like
a wet mirror
of my emotions
of my being.
Violet juice dripping down
seeping through the lips
gritted through the canines
down it flows to the chest
gives the pleasure at its best
the sipping of intoxicating wines
a quite shudder at the hips
the head be dazzled with a crown
the beautiful lusty juice
through the body, running loose.
P.s.- Its my own poetic form- three stanzas, rhyming scheme being ABCD/DCBA/EE.A scarlet painting on the sky
dotted with the white wisps of cloud
like the blood that taints the shroud
of the corpse with a smile so wry
one could hear the sound of the cry
emanating somewhere from the crowd
dotted with the white wisps of cloud
a scarlet painting on the sky
the corpse's skin would wither by…
