Unheimlich feelings of Stygian hue mes -merized my somno -lent eyes when he ab -ruptly wakes up at night. At 3 o'clock he wakes up and fails to re -member me. There be -gins my count -down to ini -tiate dis -tinct techniques to retain the pieces of past till the succeeding amne -siac carriage replace the preceding. "Second stage, moderate Alzeimer's" the doctor said three weeks ago. I didn't fail to make the schedule or didn't lose pa -tience. It's just the fourth year of his fateful travel. Hmm, he does fail to remember that tune, to solve the sum that creates problem, to soothe his drifting side, to unequivo -cally express his desidertum, or to get on his own nerve in search of the glasses that are resided on his head.Nonethe -less I try to retain his memory of me. The memory of our first connubial proximity till now that has been washed... -deep within the entorhinal cortex that has been washed leaving the soaked cells drown in flooded grey matter. Washed just the moment, the day befell when I walk -ed near him with his favourite aegean chambray to unbutton his shirt - "Mom plz, now I'm a grown up. I can wear myself". Undamaged I strive to put on the glaucous threads, the 60s specs(though having normal vision acuity), low tight bun, elderly flip-flop - to retain his memory of me being his mother. Suppressing my carnal feeling to be his wife, innocent I can't understand that the suppressed feelings can take the shape of irascible I. Unlocking the chains, now I retain in his memory as his new love - finding myself as the new I.
Unheimlich - weird Stygian - very dark Somnolent - sleepy Succeeding amnesiac carriage replace the preceding - (metaphor) the forthcoming memory that can anytime erase the present memory (that normally happens in amnesia) Drifting side - (metaphor) anger ; the side of man that hasn't tamed/anchored. Desideratum : requirement Connubial proximity - the day of marriage Entorhinal cortex - area of the brain that retains memory Grey matter - contains most of the brain's neuron cell bodies Befell - happen Aegean - shade of blue Chambray - fabric Glaucous - dull greyish-green Threads - fibre Specs - spectacles Flip-flop - light sandal
Synopsis : One-day a man wakes up at night and refuses to recognize the woman sleeping beside him. This is not the first time for that woman i.e his wife as her husband has already forgotten her and regards her as his mother. And yet she gets frightened as if her husband refuses to recognize her even as his mother. She takes care of him. Her husband forgets each and every thing that happened in the last ten years. He even doesn't remember whether he's married or not. In search of an identity his wife decorate herself as the 60s woman(his mother). But due to this fake identity and pretence she gradually becomes a little short-tempered. At last she realized that posturing isn't the solution and thus she meets with her husband as a stranger with her own identity and initiates a new phase in their life.
P.S. : Nowadays a newborn disease so-called 'break-up' has suddenly dispersed. Of course it's not very clever thing to remain with a wrong man or woman throughout one's life. But it's also not an applaudable thing to break-up with the loved one just for some trivial disagreement. Not only the lovers, due to some misunderstandings friends also cease to talk with each other. Even criminals get a second chance. And life's all about a second chance. Many people like the above story suffers from natural catastrophe and forced to begin their life anew, so why can't we give a second chance?Instead of this break-up what if we forget the past and begin the relation anew (a new phase in life)? Just like a memorable day after the amnesiac night.
P.C. : Google Lame attempt to create a human face whose memory has been erased from his mind (while some memories are left behind in the blank mind). Over a tree much like the bg. I've used too many hyphens just for the sake of the concrete poetry. Pardon for the mess and length. (｡•́︿•̀｡)
@sarbari_thinks lachrymose friendship day dearie ...and yet I can't break-up with you my bestest quarrel-monger (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)
Love never dies a natural death Standing before the mirror When I look back into my past Illusory mind's infatuation It seems as if Hypnos has blessed me As if I have plunged in Lethe I subdued my misbehaviour Grazing through this darkness Every love story has its problem Let my tumour of love be grown till I get affected with cancer The cause of my euphoria
// Autumnal Zephyr // he puts me in the ceramic planter // securing my root in the layers // of grit, compost and fine gravels // I love the open air. // Riparian vegetation beside the brook, // clime of the avenue, // to let myself amal- gamate with the hue, // amidst the lines of boulevard, // or the chaotic promenade, // in the tranquil woodland, // amongst the roar of the Leopard, // are my chosen environ- ment // yet he keeps me in the exposed casement // yearly or frequently he prunes my roots // to stunt my growth even so he doesn't uproot. // He would not have to shorten // if I had not outgrown // from my alloted planter // an awarded place - deep and angular. // He runs a heavy gauge wire // from the utter exor- dium // through my complete physique // to hold me in the rhythm -ic possie. // Then he finishes his detail // by decorating me with moss and gravel // Who am I? // Have you guessed me? // The ornate B O N S A I or the dwarfed L A D Y?
planter : decorative container securing : fixing firmly grit : small loose particles of stone or sand riparian : situated on the banks of a river vegetation : flora boulevard : wide street lined with trees promenade : avenue casement : window prune : trim exordium : beginning physique : figure rhythmic : occurring regularly possie : position detail : task bonsai : tray planting dwarfed : stunted in growth or development
Doesn't the Bonsai resemble a woman? Since a woman just like the bonsai (also like normal human beings) loves outdoors but is forced to stay home. She is chained by the social norms. She is not allowed to spread her intellect and knowledge. Their growth is pruned. Moreover it is also a kind of rule that a woman must look perfect and beautiful, thus she should always beautify herself. Tried to create a bonsai-shaped concrete poetry but failed : (
Inspiration : Bravely Fought The Queen by Mahesh Dattani.
Hi! Hope you are well and doing good. I came across your writings it felt really good reading your work. I would like to connect with you and discuss your work more in detail. Looking forward to connect with you. Waiting for your reply.
Reply : Oh really! I'm obliged to you. But can you kindly explain me as a representative of a publishing platform why did you suffer to inform me? I don't want to hurt you please don't mind. Does opportunity knock?
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Reply : Oh sure why not. In fact you urgently need it. So urgent that you can't even read the post before you like or repost. So urgent still you get time to copy and paste this text with some adjectival changes in everyone's post. How diligent you are. Working hard even in your phase of urgency. Please don't embarrass me by thanking me even before I help your.
I find happiness in falling down as I can gauge my strength in standing up. I heartily accept my failure to exceedingly relish my success. I undeniably acknowledge my blunder to recreate myself an unambiguous perfection. I always thank the deceiver who frame the firmness within me. I seek joy from the relief after laceration like the ray of light in the house of correction.
I just set my mind to write piece when refuses to perch beside . A unique piece indeed; with idiosyncratic plot, eccentric theme and evet outré morphology; perchance an unascertained syntax where feels free to socialize with each and every consonant. That doesn't mean it's simple. may look simple but can't replace '. What? ' sense? How does that sound to you? Perplexing. Evet it is. It's perplexing to pluck from the maze of an M.L.A or an M.P. An artful maze ruling for ages. That even the calibre to stupefy. Didn't it fail? Augh, the maze
کبھی رات کی سیاہی کو آغوش میں لیے سراہا کبھی ذوق ہجر کو لبوں پہ لیے سجایا بڈا سخت ہے گزر اس شب ویراں میں عالم اذیت کی سختیوں سے آج موت کو گلے ہے لگایا Kabhi raat ki siyahi ko aagosh mai liye saraha Kabhi zoq e hijr ko labbu pai liye sajaya Bada sakht hai guzar is shab e weeran mai Aalam e aziyat ki sakhtiyu se aaj moat ko galle hai lagaya To @pikabooo #ceesreposts
Happy birthday to one of the first people I met on this app. One of the most enganing and cheerful people I met on mirakee. When I didn't know much about this app, she came to my rescue and showed me the nooks and corners of it. She used to tag me everywhere in lovely writeups and poems and made mirakee a lot of fun for me. She helped me find a liking towards writing and books. The first book I ever bought was a suggestion of hers although I failed to complete it (._.) But I hope I do that someday :P
She has been a really good friend, always helping with the doubts about mirakee and writing. Always encouraged me to attempt new mirakee prompts and after every submission, she'd be the first one to read it. She'd always offer her feedback and make my post a lil bit better. Truly a blessing to be accompanied by.
I hope you stay cheerful and sanguine forever. I hope you overcome every problem you are dealing with. I wish you stay forever at peace❤ Many many happy returns of the day, @sangfroid_soul
I wander through bustling streets, constantly wondering if the echoing winds, will ever whisper about the secret path I often stumble upon in my dreams, where the sky is smudged in hues of the rainbow, where the rocky stream flows in a pace "slow", where I often find the key to all truths of life, where I can fly high without any fear of falling from the seven coloured sky with no luck from the whispering winds, I often return to my safe heaven, but the voice within always says to never stop following the echoing winds.