humor me

humor me
by tying me up good
when we pass the sirens’ lair,
awaken me by your clairvoyance
as night ends.

a morning
begins with smile on
her illumined face as she
drinks the sunshine to become a star
going away.

laughing moon
glares at me again
to warn of the deep silence
that has broken down glass mirrors of
deception.

she has left
a note of goodbye
which invites the noise inside
where my bones lay fragmented into
naive splinters.

gloom sees me
and I see people
leading lives of dead humor,
they see me too when she uncloses
her dark eyes.

.

Written in consideration of dVerse where Mr. Tony Maude has prompted everyone to write modified cinquains, by adding one more syllable to every line.

Image source

Letter To A Poet: A Medley of Cinquains

nudging

me in my dreams,

rapier of your words,

penetrating deep, would not let

me sleep,

.

the sounds

of your verses,

playing a symphony

in cavern of my ears, won’t let

me sleep,

.

cadence

and treasured rhymes

make me smile at odd times,

entrancing my soul, would not let

me sleep,

.

your voice

that I could hear

in the deep crevices

welled up in my heart, would not let

me sleep,

.

 thy love

you are pouring

in the fragrant garland

that enfolds your poem, won’t let

me sleep,

.

you are

an artist who

spots a new vivid world

in normal surroundings, please let

me sleep,

.

aura

of creations,

that which resides in you

breaches my every shield, won’t let

me sleep,

.

open

my weak eyelids

in search of you so as

to read you within, giving up

my sleep,

.

letter

to my kindred

who nurses a poem

like a small child who does not let

them sleep,

.

no need

of rest when we

can stay awake whole night

etching ourselves in words, letting

off sleep

.

* First of all, this is a medley of Cinquains which I have used to create an Epistolary Poem. It was quite a fun task.

** I am submitting the link for dVerse Poetics where we have been called to write a letter through a poem.

happy

happy-

a tiny word,

two syllables, still vast,

says everything, saying nothing

at all.

* Poetic form:- Cinquain(2-4-6-8-2)

* For dVerse Open Link Night. It is a crude creation but I have no other words to splash around right now.