Communication is tiring
Dissecting myself to be understood
On things that matters no one
I much prefer to be silent
To be left alone
In the quiet
The sound of my own breathing
While the nature orchestrating
Its sensational masterpiece
Is it sad to be almost perfect?
Perfection loses its charm when there is no room for growth.
Is it a failure for being almost famous?
Fame corrupts the longevity of any sustainable success.
Is it shameful to be weak?
Weaknesses force us to come face to face with our Creator.
Social media ugly
A mirror-mirror-on-the-wall truth
From within her heart
Deceived by what she sees
On the social media feed
Six Sentence Story word prompt – Blanket https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/87522/posts/3666307828
The day the Premier passed the bill which granted him with unprecedented power, the people who fought for their freedom felt downtrodden and devastated. The political climate cast a blanket of dark cloud over the state. Everyday ordinary people fell ill of foreseeing tyranny days.
There was a group of people went up to the highest place of the city and wept bitterly to their God. The mountain shook, and soon after, a hail storm broke out. They fled to seek refuge under some banana plantation.
When all was passed, they heard of the news that their Premier was struck dead by a ginormous hailstone while giving a celebratory speech at a press conference outside the parliament house.
Lies her father told
Fested within her
They formed a filter
Bluring her vision
They grew skin tags
Choking her breathing
They wrapped calluses
Around her heart
She saw the world
She was suffocated
From lack of truth
Her heart was hardened
Inner vows took root
He father told lies
To her innocent little girl
Now she is imprisoned
Under his everlasting curse
She is plotting to destroy him
Before he does
My poem Yellow earned an honourable mention in Gabriela’s poetry contest. Original post Here
Beneath the golden wattle
We meet again to read poetry
The spring wind pays us a visit
I pick yellow out of your tawny locks
and brush them off your lips with a kiss
Your freckles bloom like pansies
This poem is inspired by Gabriela Marie Milton’s poem titled ‘Yellow’
in her latest published “Woman: Splendor and Sorrow”.
You may purchase from here:
I remember the day of your wedding. Pear blossoms paved the way from your bedroom to the village gate. The red of your wedding gown was the only symbol of happiness in a time when the entire village barely survived the famine.
The groom didn’t come with any pig nor buffalo as dowry. You were married out to reduce a mouth need feeding.
The rusty tractor took the newlyweds away disappearing deeper into the mountains and left a trail of mud from the spring rain wrestling with the firecrackers. The elders said your marriage started of a rough path already.
I shut the door from condolences and keep the night between us Intimate air is what I long to share with you at your last stop to paradise You are all washed and cleaned I slip on your favourite kimono the one embroidered with superb starlings and stain my lips in cherry red It is so peaceful and quiet I hear every crackle of the fire and the candle cries all my tears to give you light My last love note to you is written in Shuji on royal blue Ryoshi and is sealed with a cherry kiss My love I send you ahead of me on your way to our sweet home This transient place this moment we share tonight will be surrendered to God in the morning My name will be erased from your heart and yours will be hung with the blue silk tie around my neck
Writer’s notes: This piece of writing is inspired by a ghost story I read in a Japanese literature, source unknown.
I want to give in to wine But wine is only the vessel that takes me to you All the good times we had long faded onto the ground like snowflakes But wine when its full body swells in my mouth you came alive in me again