20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


digital misivs

 photo 20130423_122711.jpg

jacked on Marlboro’s and mocha java
she lives safely in her word cloud,
laying belly down with candy wrappers
littering the unkempt futon bed.

smartphone, notebook glowing
in that messy shades drawn room
and sometimes pink hair spilling
out a Neff cap covered eyes.

Skye, exists as ‘anonymous’
tattood and thin, small framed
her cool demeanor her paler skin
nothing touched her since he left.

and crossing paths in the gangway
with the new boy down the hall,
his immediate smile spoke volumes
he brushed against her as they talked.

but that spark its cruel reminder
of hurt she really can’t forget
her promise to call forgotten,
the spark was just suppressed.

Skye spent that night as every night
a private etherland of love
texting poems of lust her loneliness,
drift…digital misivs through the dark.


Weekly Photo Challenge: Solitary

Had this picture taken some thirty days ago, thought I could use it to represent solitary. I was assisting my supervisor standing in the front of the hall in the first lecture of the semester. Most of the course participants were still undergoing registration procedure, so only a handful turned up the first day. One of those present came along with his son (standing at the back of the class, where I was seated). Unattended, alone (without  any peer), idle but energetic, he hops from one row to another. He finally got work to do. He began folding the untaken tables. When he was done, he sat quietly apparently thinking out the next task (all by himself)



Love’s transgressions lie forgotten
Like discarded leaves of the passing autumn
A simple question keeps knocking the doors of mind
Incessant bird pecking away the sanctity of the tree

Its not the usual swarm of questions that arise from confusion
Mists rising over the surface of a forest lake in winter
One and only one question exists here in this moment
Lonely firefly blinking balefully in the dark solitary night

In all that goes around me ever so fleetingly
Big and confusing like the smothering waves of sea
With a foam of insignificant but ever present
Where do I stand, and why?


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