white flags waved on dark horizonsdeclare victory - PeaceNo war emblems of pain inscribed on heartstell a different taleAll lost W3 Prompt #195
War and Peace
Tales that tell, stories that sell
My footsteps have created a pattern I don’t recognize. The world around me has organised my random movements in a way they like. It feels like I kept talking incessantly, but no one was really listening. The background score they added to the video of my life doesn't make sense to me. machine languagesturn scarcity … Continue reading Tales that tell, stories that sell
Unaligned
colors hauntask for new patternsexpressionun-alignedto vision of the artist-but through his toolkit The painting is entitled “Mme Kupka among Verticals” and was painted in 1910-11 by Frantisek Kupka OLN at dVerse
Implosions
implosionsunheard, impactfulsuppressed ragebursting throughinvisible seams - a forcenot a silent scream Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge - Oxymoron
Felicitation
ancient stones ascend,slow whispers of patient earth,moon descends in grace,crowning their long, silent climb,silver blessing on the peaks. What Do You See #323
January
January sighs, cold, colourlessThis year arrives without a sparkI ache, unsure of myselfwhile others display hopestars fail to enthusejaded minds facetoo much truthlittlelight W3 Prompt #193
Experiential Bias
impeccably cleanI extend an eager handawaiting firm grips ~ Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it as yet? ~ L.M. Montgomery I watch active feetcalloused with experiencestain virginity Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge #46
The Compass is Me
Can the Sun rise in the West? To the extent of our knowledge, No. We place immense trust in Nature. Sometimes we also trust human beings we see as infallible and supportive. I felt a pillar fall that morning when I saw a change in someone’s stance. More so, because the reason for it was … Continue reading The Compass is Me
Letting Go
Once upon a time, I made sure that doors did not close behind me. The future was exciting, but uncertain, and I wanted my support systems to stay intact. Today, I don’t turn back to look at the footprints I’ve left behind. Some are blown away by the winds. Some leave an impression on wet … Continue reading Letting Go
Starkness
witnessa slice of soulcraving for a dark shroudto bury an unfulfilled wishit failsto see inadequacy oftattered human fabricstark nakednessmocks grace Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge #43 - Ekphrastic
