Painted Mirror with a twist of ‘Where the Walls Meet’ & ‘Home Cooked Verse’. [ A Meal’s Prompt]
Sometimes parables come, to the relish of the abundance of food, of a fervid viand in a fastfood: It’ll pass in the form of a filthy kid, whose teeny-tiny fingers and wretched palms will be adherent to the refulgence and chasteness of crystal cleared window, and to his departure, because of your indifference indicated by the aversion of your gaze, the terms will be left as sticking dirt on the glass, until removed, polished with scourer’s abstertions, rub with white capped liquid, shipshape detergent and a streamy sponge in conjunction with wiping the perspiring hand on the sweaty brow.
Sometimes parables come in the midst of profound serene of slumber: To startle you one dawn, in the darkest hour of night before the first rays of light came, was a tacit mystical woman harkening to the impulse; awakening her minds eyes body rise, went to the dinette, asked herself, “How’s the verse cooked?” Little did she knew; behold at the memory of an trivet archaistic yesterday, she cooked it on the rig of spiciness from bittersweet aches, the sweetness caused by his makeshift love. From failures, she squeeze the bitterness and blend it with the acerbities of poison. Now, the flavor that springs from it In the intensity of rage, she boiled it.
Before she serve the latent cooked verse, she mollified it first with the cooked of delight, and when the spirit of table is set, she share the dish prepared!
Fidgety efficacy mused along the shore, There grooping the essence and waitin’, Jilting the fragrance of pomposity at the same time, Easing the outburst of mulligrubs emotions.
Jinn puzzled akin vowed promises, Gist tattered unto bazillion pieces, By the wringed heartbreaking emotions eyes envisaged, Almost eluded of sanity and void, Precipitate, facing to the savaged flame but did nothing.
Felt exhausted sitting for so long, Went unto the ocean of hardship, petite grains welled up, Carrying the jotter of life that core loved, Whether in solace or perturbation; it became its own sympathy.
With the quill, experiences were written hard, But on the occasion of the downfall and misfortune, It vanished from core’s reverie that it would break free, So the foolscap skiff was fabricated and let go of the tide.
The foolscap skiff floated unto the jubilant dancing surge. The focused was on the cadence flamboyant course, But when the tune obstinate jinn manumitted the knot, Flew in scrupled clouds, toppled anon.
The foolscap skiff akin to a man’s heart, It softens when drowned by candid compassion, Sometimes it’s adamantly firm and unshakable to win, Looking forward to the seventh heaven; just really enticing.
G — Government, politics, corruption. This is said to be the most problematic in our nation. Wrong choice! Wrong set! Service ends without doing anything, pure stare, pure sitting, even so it costs ten. Ten, twenty, thirty thousand and sometimes up to millions.
O — Oh! Many disagree, many don’t respond, promise to be buried in the chair, irritating emotions, just pure imagination, blaming the government, blaming the politician, blaming the person who voted. Blaming the person who voted!
V — Voted? It’s true. Because we’re blaming other people, you’re pure, He’s pure, they’re blaspheming. What about me? Me, I don’t admit, what I did wrong, they were just sarcasm and laughter, angers that you thought had done something, now I thought and
E — embarrassed, they aren’t the only economic problem. Now I count the number of infinite, question whose answer is corruption then finished. Let's look in the mirror we can’t judge, when did you throw trash in the right trash can?
R — Right. Social problems, how can we end, if only garbage can be found on the road, command that even the youth don’t obey, youth is the hope of the people, but where’s the ability, is the reason for their struggle right?
N — Now, you can see that the streets are full of cars. Those who are uplifted, speeding up, squeezing, shouting, you don’t understand, if they are in a contest! The amount of answers, sporting the horn and what has happened in nature? The forests are cemented, when did we plant trees and plants?
M — Men, women, it’s strange. Why else do we ever put a warning, it’s forbidden to throw it here, it’s forbidden to urinate here, it’s forbidden to cross someone who has died here. Warnings that we often do not,
E — even with floods, even with signs, even with laws, remember that isn’t all from above, we still have a lot to discover, we don’t have to blame the government. Because we are the root they are the tree, let us be a bridge to our leaders.
N — Now, we need nourishment! Let us live as disciplined people! It’s a chronic disease that needs a cure, this is the solution for the long tomorrow.
T — There’s no discipline in the problems of society, do not keep up with the softness of the pillow, do not be a cement in what those in charge do. All heroes died bravely left behind.
From the moment she touched the paper & the pen she seemed to find a home.
Ever since she read the poems from the poets, her mind becomes open, and unconsciousness becomes closed.
They accepted her for who she was. They kissed her void, frailties & dearths. They gave her an exceptional liberty; liberty so that she could introduce herself to other people. They let her to be herself.
She write because there are many reasons; she write because there’s a reason. She write because of love. She write because of hope. She write because of freedom. She write because this is her war in the struggle for truth. She write because she want to be a light to people who are ashamed to accept their identity. She write because this is what she want.
She’ll not stop until you hear her long struggle in the judgmental world. She’ll not stop until you hear her. She don’t need mercy. All she need is acceptance and hug that she have long hoped for. All she need are those who’ll listen to her poems.
She write because she want to be free. She write because she want to liberate others. And now, she can write again. Yes! She writes again. Listen to her.
You’re surrounded by many possibilities and choices in how you want to live. You create your own life in accordance with your decisions; often your decisions affect your relationship with those around you. What you show; will also show you — may you always do the things that are good for you. #decisionmaking#wod#pod
@theinkdomain I wrote. @writersnetwork Thank you so much for the repost! It was unexpected and so, so heart touching ✨ ________________________________________________
SKY GAZING (reversed)
This is the heartbroken Sky
Hurts mellowed over time
Her thoughts are heavy
Her songs no longer rhyme
Because each word is pain
Each stanza a callous crime
For every life that leaves earth
At the cusp of life’s prime
Prayers by the dozen
Rise from halls down below
Empty temples, mosques, churches
Cry the same note of woe
At the foot of the mass grave
Under the wail of a lone crow
A thousand souls writhe
Clawing at life’s closed doors
Mute silhouettes in masks
Watch the funeral pyres burn
The Sky watches them too
As the dwindling flames churn
Cold teardrops of rain
A gale upon the ship’s stern
The Sky ushers the shipwreck
To welcome the decade’s turn
And what a wonderful decade
The Sky bitterly thinks
Starving empty bellies
Elsewhere decadence stinks
Countless men and women forced
In to standard blues and pinks
Another woman sells her body
While the ceiling light winks
Elsewhere on the globe
The Sky herself is on flame
Though she tries her best
Hatred is hard to tame
Missiles fly over borders
For some, it’s just another game
But on each side of the boundary
The colour of blood is the same
The Sky is being poisoned
The noxious gases blur her sight
Her ice caps have melted
Where they once gleamed white
Down below they dance
Drunk and coked-up all night
But still, the Sky will bloom tomorrow
Her pure blue hopes so bright
My poetries were quenching to gulp those heartbreaks . I made thousand of excuses from my deaden sufferings and expounded my virtues hanging on your verses . My senses sniffed some mouldering pleasure in the residues of my moans .
I felt like that sunrise never will grow near my shallow meadows as those old volumes were no longer old to me, as you were no more a stranger to me , as your persona was no more hidden behind that mole of your chin which used to sing some beautiful lies , I still remember unfortunately !
My lilies are smouldering now , they lingered on those ties you made with the tenderness and delicacy. I lied hundred times to those ribbons you gifted me once for consoling them and they kept on embracing my fragrance .
I tried to hide all my pain and tasted liquor scooped in the pearl of agonies as the ice cubes were no longer deprived of my blues, as my cheeks were no longer wanted to be reddened , as my butterflies were no longer begging you for your presence which I used to cherish insanely , I still couldn't forgot unfortunately!