Light leaks from the leaves of the sugar apple trees after feasting on fresh fruits and touches the morning petrichor sungazing on the ground. The holiday lights snore unapologetically as the hustle and bustle of the busy city is added as a preservative in the jar of January juice being served on the first Sunday of the calendar year.
Twenty minutes have already passed in the hunting of the novel I left unread on Pg 243 last night. I am wandering helplessly in the woodland of my house with arrows shooting from my eyes, hitting on the kladeoscopic titles resting on the bookshelf and weapons oozing out of my hands, digging the scattered clothes and littered table. Giggles slice the silence in the air and crash on my ears. I peep out of the window in the garden to trace the source of its origin.
Winter wearing blue sunglasses is sunbathing while resting comfortably on the chaise longue. Laughing hysterically with joy, holding a hot mug of coffee in one hand while other clutched on the novel which was the treasure of my hunt. I cannot calm the fury down while screaming its name.
The falcon skies and withering daylight bolstered the undaunted anxiety clasping in between my fingertips, the one that is not a conflagration intended to confine the light flickering at the end of my mind but the one that comes like a desert storm at the tickling hours before they strike the commencement of a significant event.
I am adding five drops of lemon and two tablespoons of sugar in my tea when the yelling sound of my mom commands my attention and I rush to the lawn to witness a cold scolding for missing her call twice. I blame my absence to the earsplittling volumes of WWE Smackdown that beguiles the senses of my younger brother sufficiently to brush aside all the happenings of the real world surrounding him, he frowns at once and screams in ruffling excitement while staying glued to the television.
sweet cacophonies, pumping hearts and trojan clouds swindles out of confiscation at the glimpse of auburn sky infused with nerve tonic by a syringe that floats on the archipelago of sun-feasting horizon.
like the adorned anklets of a classical dancer with musical bells, my poems are embellished with nature's charm as my perpetual muse.
when my feeble trials to club metaphors and alliterations go in vain, the words themselves create a vaulted valley for me to chase under the evergreen trees and bougainvillea vines.
flowers are the clementine sips of chamomile tea brewed in the nature's cafeteria that rejuvenates the downtrodden curves of comforting peace.
the coffee flushed pages of my journal reeks the relics of a medieval castle, the cramming words scribbled in a downpouring hush looks like a bombarded battlefield wincing at the blood-breathing war, a hefty snowstorm flicks out of the ocean liquidated pen when I hold its neck untying the monstrous story buried down inside my chest, thumping indecisively at the autumn dripping sun. they think they can understand but they fail every time to sneak cautiously at it's calloused edges from the corners of my lying eyes.
a superstitious notion is as dangerous as a triggered phobia.
a gratitude refilled heart is as lively as a newly bloomed hibiscus.
a comforting positive self- talk is as surprising as an uninvited robbery.
to thrive empathy and to unleash the magic taming in your heart, include your name while addressing yourself, catch the fireflies exclusively meant for you.
what fires together wires together- don't let your negative way of thinking become an autonomous vehicle of your mind.
I am not really a collab person xd so this is my first attempt which somehow turned successful because I was supposed to lead the poem. All thanks to @anirockz7 for this collab.
The syllables of goodbye share a contagious relationship with nostalgia, the tip of tongue burns, the ache of heart returns, memories of the past savagely stifle the passing hours, I wonder whether our amorphous tale was crafted in cloud swept heavens or fiery hells.
So after long realization I realized that it was neither hell nor heaven but beyond infinity cause when I whispered goodbye I uttered in our love language so gods or demons can't take you away from me and I shall send you to 7th dimension where you'll be free from favours of karma and ultimately achieve salvation.
The sky is a revered hermitage of saintly sun and summer is a falling star at the dawn hour, the letters of my penciled notes are clambering over each other as I have advertently subjugated the comfort of one word while thrashing another close to it so as to avoid turning over the page.
Trembling on the floor of my tongue is the aftertaste of sour streaked statements twinging my nerves in guilt for overstepping the uninvited threshold of sentiments that shared a cursed mismatch with my noble intentions.
Darting between the alphabetical clothesline on the white polished surface of my notebook, my pen is vehemently leaking ink to secure a second reading for finalizing an acceptable apology note marked in name of the person who fell a victim to my slip of tongue.
The pathetic fallacy is a figure of speech in which the natural world is treated as though it had human emotions. For instance "weeping cloud" is an example of the pathetic fallacy. This is also a kind of personification, or describing non-human objects in human ways but in strictest sense, the pathetic fallacy can only be applied to nature – animals, trees, weather patterns, etc.
--Today, write a poem using pathetic fallacy in it.--
Crying in a balcony Need someone's shoulder to lend Watching every light sparking out I know that I'm not perfect but, I can myself I know that I'm having lots of friends But you can't understand me now, You told me you'd never leave but Sometimes i felt my heart is heavy It's pull me to the voice of your mouth And now I stopped drinking Cuz it reminds me about your sounds And now I'm stop sleeping Cuz when i sleep you are around I never think you'll leave but unfortunately Its what got in my pound. But i got you honest with baby I drew My confessions are which stated as worthless and now thinking I'm dizzy in my own thoughts which comes in the quantity of thousands in some minutes...
Tomorrow I may forget those rhymes of your poem I may not remember your sumptuous sonnets Let me paint you with the umbrageous syllables now below the billows of a welkin and inlay my soul with the cheerful stars and your maiden moon.
Tomorrow I may not knuckle your face with my fingers I may scroll your elegies before gulping them Let me drown now inside the ocean of your diadem with the wreaths of orchids, tulips and daffodils I, a wallflower, again ween to be your austere hem.
Tomorrow The death may kiss my delicate clavicle I may abut the stars without bidding a final goodbye Let me breathe now inside the soliloquies of the worm moon before the death could scald my red tongue Let me chug those curtains of memories for the last time darling.
~those broken crayons in my bag are screaming inside the emptiness of life.