her flippant dance

the farsighted ocean calls me,
I shift my glance to take a whiff, of
new visions on the landscape
soaked with blood, of dreariness.

I am an effigy made of sand, touched
by the fingers of her sweet melodies.

her lips open up into the cavern
of the sky, dotted with planetary
orbits of my heart.

I can not see the ocean, it is away
in the gloom of the void, but I watch
her flippant dance as she clutches
her dress buttoned up for modesty
unlocking charms of my dead eye.

Image source

Inspired from Bjorn Rudberg’s poem, Nipping at the hard place. I loved the play of metaphors in his verse. It is a very artistic write.
Though, I couldn’t keep up with Bjorn’s natural flow, I still tried my hand at Catachresis, the literary device Bjorn used in his poem. I had to check what it meant and I read in detail about it here(shame on me for not knowing about it :D). And as soon as I read about it, I went on to write this piece.

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a dead man in life

“43,099,200 minutes- the freedom that comes with the realization that death is inevitable”, by Dan Mansutti

i saw a grave of a mother and daughter buried side by side

and the dead woman asked me for a dance, I had to oblige,

she saw the living through my eyes, and touched my life line

.

she had her mouth widened into an unabating smile,

a beaming mien that sculpts her into a haunting device,

she susurrates words of the olden times, her garb contrived

from plant vines, her pearl necklace shriveling, her bones cackling

.

she has lived after death, to nurture the venom of her spite,

her dead dreams are where the worlds collide, the living dies

and the dead is alive, she hands me a note engraved on earth,

she buries me in her grave, and I evanish from her sight

.

into the realm of the living, but still dead when I am alive,

or alive only in death, her voice subsides, I decimate my life line

Anm

.

Image source

Inspired from dVerse Poetics.

I stumble and slip by words, we DaNcE

I’ve got to buy a black tie, a shoe or two,

my off-white shirt hung on steeped lines of mind

and my factitious face is to be blurred so I could

be a stranger amid the strangers of words

and sneak my anonymity into the festivity

 

will you dance with me tonight?

I would hold you, lead you but we would as much fall,

I stumble through rhymes, I slip through rhythm,

a mellow hand can walk me across the room

to the out where the moon shines and stars make a queue

 

will you… will you hold my hand tonight?

I will burp after a huge serving of delight

brought forth by the luminescent phantoms,

let me twirl around like a swan, let me

shake my waist of rusted verse, let me dance

 

will you abjure structure for me tonight?

come, let us walk to the antediluvian tide of time

where I slither through your hands like wet soil,

that should be the end, the vessel of life

I leave to you, take a sip and make a move

 

a poem infused in my vein, a drug-induced sleep

I never wake up, or if I do, I am still naked

devoid of diction, I smother my earnest arms

while feathers of summer float down the sky in shards

and I blow like a balloon along the breeze that lasts

 

For dVerse, where the celebrations are plenteous and the dance is going on.

Image source: 10 Hairy Legs’ Scott Schneider in Julie Bour’s “The Blind Men and the Elephant”. Scenic Design: Benjamin Heller. Photo: Steven Trumon Gray.

Anm

Stairway to Heaven: A 100 Word Story

“And she is buying a stairway to heaven…,” he was lost in the song, croaking his drowsy voice along with the track, which he thought, precisely matched with that of the singer.

“Shut up bud. Sing to yourself. I am here trying to study and your cacophony is bugging me.”

He gave him a dirty look and continued his cackling.

“Seriously, I gifted you the CD so that you could listen to it and be dazzled by the brilliance of the track, not ruin it up.”

“It is Led Zeppelin. What do you reckon? I dance over it. Let me sing.”

Copyright – David Stewart

*Written in response of Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

*And here is the song for those who love it and for those who have never heard it-

*And my e-book (poetry collection) is available free of cost, download it from this link.

Nagoshi Haiku

paper lanterns hung

lighting hearts with a sweet hope

a reverent night

~

parades and fireworks

dance along with soothing breeze

farewell summer days

~

the layers of sins

shed at the end of summers

awakening soul

~

year half gone, half left

smile, celebrate nagoshi

chew guava candies

*Written in response of Carpe Diem # 231.