Saturday, February 28, 2015

Song of Yvette

The little girl accidentally wandered on the old rail-track. Now mostly an overgrown pathway. She had heard the road was forbidden. Talked about in hushed tones. Curiosity got better of her and she walked on. Alone. Ignoring the whimpering dog.
The trees, lush and green. The birdcalls loud. The footfalls crisp. The sun overhead, strong.
Derelict caravan. Angelic gypsy. Silk on her skin, flowers in her hair and song on her lips.
Wasn't she a myth? A folklore?
The little girl was found on rail-tracks. Enamoured by the phantasma. Talking to herself. And singing the song of Yvette.

Courtesy : Friday Fictioneers

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Opaline iridescence

Over a cup of coffee,
Decided our life.
As the orangish hues
Streaked the skies,
About the
Oncoming Odyssey.
Okayed our presence
In our lives
Under the
Obscuration of the moon.
Becoming oxygen.
Covertly and
Yet so overtly,
Of one another.
And overwhelming
Over the pious flames,
And amidst
A thousand omens,
We vowed.
Opting sanctimoniously
To obstinately,
Live together
Death does us apart.
Infantile gaming
Over the rocking cradle,
Occasionally racking our brains
Chemistry and physics.
Over a cup of coffee,
In an old-age home,
We remembered
The opaline iridescence.

Linking with Alphabe-thursday : Letter O
Linking with Velvet Verbosity : 100 words : Cup

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Footfalls of love

As the lullaby
Receded to a hum,
She turned out the lights,
Squeezed out of his blanket,
And closed the door gently,
But partly,
On his dreaming silhouette,
Softly treading back to
Her own room,
Kindled with ecstasy
Of their melting silhouettes.

Thursday, February 12, 2015


Robbed of my own self
I weave through
The labyrinth
The curtains
Mind pulls over heart.
The search within
Becoming a struggle,
The search without
I am but
Broken sentences.
The skin
And the bones
I am nothing
But hollow.
Empty spaces fill me up.
I am but a deception.
A house of cards,
Ready to crumble
At slightest breeze.
Some light remains perhaps,
Through the cracks
Now and then,
But mostly
I am obscure,
Dwelling in twilights,
Just another
In milieu.
A masquerade,
That being my existence,
I leave no imprints.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

A Love Problem

The unflurried surface
Or the scraped skin.
The unflustered spirit
Or the rippled and ruffled
Layers beneath.
The clay painted arrestingly,
Or the chaos cloaked
In tranquility.
The vivacious
Or vacuous flaws.
The who meaningless
The nameless ecstasy
Of love.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Some story

The Valentines was in the air. The zest of the air suffocated him. Took him back in time. And he could visualize his happy times with her. Her laughter, her words, her songs all echoed around him. He smiled on remembering the catch me if you can dare of hers. She was life, personified. But the Fate had other plans and their love interfered. So it played a little game and had Adiv deported to Mother Earth. Adara was kept busy at Sister Venus. That was in some B.C. It was 2015 A.D. now Every even tide he bowed to Sister Venus. Every even tide she sent out the stars to watch over Mother Earth. Eons were passing. Some day Cupid will convince fate. Till then the Valentine air suffocated him.

Courtesy: Picture it and write

Linking with Picture it and write

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

The cadence

The shivering silhouettes,
The silver sliver,
The shadows
To the rhythm
Wanton need,
The cadent crunch
Of desires,
The seeds of want
Wailing in background,
The vestiges
Of sun
In the hearth,
The embers
Consuming the love.