rufescent dreams

the red star over there, somewhat distant,
beckons me to leave the cold hearth
and seek the supple-sphere
of my beginning —

the cellular destruction, the neat phlegm,
the eyes that are weakening in their resolve
to see the world through its painful sutures,
almost always hurt,

i have a shadow that only shows the face
behind the face, the trust that has been
doomed for so long, in my own adoption
of time and its wreckage, its subliminal
annihilation of every atomic particle
on life’s horizon,

i wonder if it is to be free that i cage
myself, for if not in captivity, how would
i ever seek, ever speak when cowardice
is at my very door step, ringing the bell?

the red is deeper in the night, like a deep gash
on my thigh, and my mouth is of dust & blood,
and my dreams are but weighed and sold for
trinkets of sorrows, just so that another breath
completes its cycle in the dying light.

.
© Anmol Arora

Linking it up with The Tuesday Platform at WRT, where I am hosting this week and I have shared a Kaifi Azmi ghazal for inspiration.

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Grim Day Haiku

grim day of no light

cold wind prickling tender skin

a single drop clings

 ~

a single drop clings

others emerge from within

the whole being shivers

 ~

the whole being shivers

long look at a far distance

no light this grim day

* For MindLoveMisery’s Photo Prompt.

Painting: A 100 Word Story

“Attention!”

Bright sunlight pierced his eyes as he stepped into the fine painting and heard a loud baritone, “Attention!”

He looked around to find out the place of origin of the deep voice. But there was nobody around nearby, except for a guard standing alert with a rifle facing upwards, held in his palms; his face impassive, devoid of any emotions and his dark eyes sparkling.

There were people at a distance but he was sure nobody could see him and the still life beside him.

“What are you looking at?” spoke someone from behind.

He returned back to the reality.

copyright –Managua Gunn

*Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

Hotaru (Firefly) Haiku

shimmering fireflies

into the eyes of  beloved

a passionate love

~

old stream of water

soldier returns home from war

black tears, fireflies gone

~

midnight moon shines bright

hotaru glows at distance

illumination

~

a mid-summer day

young boys trot towards river

waiting for the fire

~

waters set on fire

man gazing into his soul

a soundless twilight

~

splendor of fireflies

fairy tale coming to life

spectators gather

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 221

* Won’t be able to post for the next 8 days or so; going to miss the wonderful prompts.

she sat on the creek’s bank

she sat on the creek’s bank

waiting for

the time to come by

whence

she could open her hair braid,

put away those restraining ornaments

and

dissolve in the waters

and flow away

to meet her destiny,

to meet

her cay.

After writing this piece, I came up with an alternate version which is like this:-

she sat on the creek’s bank

waiting for

the time to come by

whence

she could reach out the distance,

immerse herself in the waters

and

dissolve away those fears

and fly away

to meet her destiny,

to find

her way.

Note:- For those of you who do not know, I have published my first poetry collection, which is completely free of cost. You can find the pdf version here-

The fragrance of the pouring rain

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