Before she opens her eyes
She inclines her ears to the song of birds
Then
She wriggles her toes
She gives out a laugh
And
She notices her breathing
By now
She is ecstatic
Day 7 and alive
She has beaten the Devil
Writing Spot
The Living Poetry prompt – Backyard
I spent many lone nights
swaddled in a rainbow hammock
by the crackling firepit
in my manicured backyard
under the clear stary sky
in cold deep winters
Many poems were born
from frozen fingers tapping
on a frosted screen
when the embers started to go out
in the wee hours of the night
With a final sense of satisfaction
I straightened my beanie
wrapped myself in the wool blanket
resettled in my ugg boots
hurried into the house
where everybody I loved
were all in a deep sleep
Book Characters
The walk between prologue
and epilogue
lasts a span of time
only you can decide
We live
We cry
We die
The emotions tower in you
only last a rain showers
No matter how you see us
your opinion only lasts
the length of a pen
in the writer’s hand
The remanence of us
like ghosts live in
the echo of your resounding life
in drips, drops and shreds
Every now and then
You raise a glass
toast to our unceasing spirits
residing in the depth
of your heart
Beauty
She is getting comfortable
to show the folds
at the corner of her eyes
because they were accumulated
from an adventurous life lived
many laughter
and beauty that
only reveals from time.
Emergency
Let’s meet at the Blue Jay
Down the memory lane
Of high school days
Treat me a sorbet trio
Magenta, lime and lemon
Cool the after taste of
Of our bubble gum kiss
In those days
Evenings always came too early
There was no contact after six
Only your smile filled my journal pages
Do you remember
I bet you don’t
On a bed all tubed up
Obliviate to my existence
One of the scrubs
Attending to jumpstart
Your failing heartbeat
🌒 Blood Moon
The ocean is super horny
Let’s ride each other crazy
In the heat of lunar eclipse
Victim
She told him lies about consequences.
His lips were sewn up by shame.
The world became more suffocating
than her body odour.
He was convinced that he needed to be a rat to survive the filth.
Soul Food
Comedians
This poem is inspired by Little Charmer and RoBIN
We look understated
in life’s comedy show
out flow the liquid words
in dry style
If it’s dark
we make it funny
outlive death
for another day
Gobble down
the dark and dry
Moisten our lips
and give a few more screwballs
to win no one’s approval
Good New Days
Nights not wasted
Transmitting heartbeats
Between lovers
Separated by the need
To make a living
In different cities
Unable to share
A cosy bed
Expressing passion
Skin to skin
Thankfully
The old days
Of snail mail
Have long sunsided
The new days technology
Keeping them bound
Flicker of Thoughts 