Me-You-Our Fantasy

surrender your soul, to me

because, I want to devour you,

take you within me, to

embrace your identity,

encompassing it in mine,

every bit of you becomes me,

and I become you,

and we dance together,

underneath the moon lit sky,

.

sharing glimpses of hatred,

we have palpated, for each other,

and thence, it happens,

the communion , as the grey clouds

gather, consuming the light,

and you step up the stones,

to the hallway of life,

as I smirk through your lips,

and burn every sight

.

.

.

.

.

come on, open your eyes,

(my eye lids stark open),

it was a dream,

all those sights you had seen,

there is no existence of you,

you were just a fantasy,

a character of a delusion,

it was always me, it is I,

and it will remain so, to be…

.

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Piece of Dream

sometimes I forget that I am a being,

I feel as if I am a piece of a dream,

and soon I would come round to find,

that it was all, a play of my mind,

.

and I’d have all those days to live,

that I have just glimpsed in my trance,

and I’d have a chance to change

the stories, I weaved and lived,

.

by finding that door, the exit

from this fantasy world, where

I have breathed these breaths,

and find and lost my broken self

.

may be it indeed is a planet

coming alive, from my imagination,

and I shall go on, and on till

when, I find the very end of it

 .

and it is when I find myself,

in the womb, of the blessed earth,

would I believe that, I really was alive,

dream was my life, I was not the dream

.

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Dream: A Short Story

(For Trifecta)

“I want to go to the city, where there are so many avenues available. I will get to be in the middle of things and I could prove my talent,” she said, her eyes lost in a world far away from their small town.

“What do you aim to do there?” As a supportive father, he wanted to listen to her before putting forth his own opinion about it.

“Oh… well, I will do what all others do.”

“And what is it they do?”

“I will… I will get an agent, who could help me visit the parties and the functions where I could meet up with the directors and other film personalities. It is all about making yourself available at the right spot at the right time. It is probable that I will get the opportunity that I so want.” She smiled, which was an evidence of that childish wonder and a dream, which was a result of townsfolk praising her for her beauty and acting skills.

Her father did not reply for a while and a silence pervaded in the room.

“Well, what do you think, dad?”

“Is it that simple? You know, it seems to me that you are trying to chase a rainbow.”

Her smile faded. “A rainbow…? Dad, I want it. I want the fame, success. I want the life of a film star.”

“Aren’t you content with all what you have? You might lose it all, blinded by the glittering city.”

“I love my life here, dad but I want to achieve my dream and I need your support.” That was all she said. She had already bought a ticket for the city bound train, which was to leave early in the morning.

Next day, she was surprised to find her father with his suitcase, waiting at the station.

“I believe in you. I am with you,” he stated. She embraced the best man of her life, as the train whistled its arrival with the rising sun.

Cowboy Dream

I saw a cowboy in my dream last night,

robust, well postured with a snarl on his face

who hid his identity behind his hat for the most part,

but looked at me again and again sideways,

appraising me, calculating his notions about me,

and then he started to walk, step by step,

the voice of the crumbling mountain,

just before me he stood and punched me in the gut,

oh ah ah ah…. aha… ah… another punch and yet another,

until I lay lying on the ground clutching my tender stomach,

and the next sound I heard was that of a gun shot,

and I froze, as if the bullet would come piercing,

through my skin and muscles and tendons and attack the bone,

and may be create a gaping binocular hole,

finding its way back to the desert sun,

but I never felt anything, not pain, not numbness,

I made myself get up and saw blood spilled at a distance,

before my very eyes, I saw a stream of crimson flowing blood,

and the cowboy with his gun vertical breathing smoke,

he stifled a laugh as I touched his shoulder,

he was nothing but a hologram,

I flinched away from the distorted image,

and made my eyes gaze back worriedly at the fluid,

to find there was nothing at all there,

and just then, heard a voice up above me,

everything transformed, blue sky turned to lilac,

and the sun was no longer there but I saw three suns,

I shot up above with my revolver without any thought,

(where did I get the revolver? why did I shoot, what had happened?),

dream broke up like a dam and there was a tide of desert sand,

I pulled my shirt up to cover my eyes,

and crouched there to keep stable,

I never woke up for I knew it was something happening really,

but then it was way too fantastical,

soon the storm did pass and I looked up,

at the act that was performed before me,

that I was a significant part of,

hiding my identity behind my hat,

I stood robust, well postured,

a snarl was persistent on my face,

what I saw was a boy in tatters,

standing a few feet ahead looking at me strangely,

something urged me to walk towards him,

I did, appraising him, calculating my notions about him,

my hand rose up on its own accord as I stood before him,

and then a punch, another one, ah… uh… oho…,

punched him in the gut again and yet again,

he fell down in pain and I shot a bullet blindly,

clouds had distorted my vision,

another shift, another transformation,

I had become the cowboy

and nothing happened next,

there was light and I tumbled through it,

out of the world that seemed so real to me,

and I found myself rubbing my eyes,

saying only a single thing-

‘I am the cowboy:

 I was always the cowboy

of the ranch of my life,

of my sight, my mind’

.

* I barely know anything about cowboys. I have never been interested in the movies or books based on them. The little I know is because of the snippets of information I got from here and there. I have created an image of cowboy, molding the idea into something I could easily relate with or write about and most of all, create through my imagination. I guess it could be used as a cowboy poem around the bonfire (I am kidding). I am submitting the link for dVerse Poetics. dVerse Poets Pub is a wonderful community of poets from all around the world who come forth to share their creations for the various prompts related to poetic forms and styles posted throughout the week.

Music Inspired Haiku: Dervish Dream

mystified conscious

sacred music enchanting

the divine love found

~

rotating bare feet

in the light of the oil lamps

world matters no more

~

calling the maula

the steps taken in a trance

fearing love sustains

~

limbs tremble in awe

a meeting of soul with love

gilded door of bliss

~

constant feet moving

hands raised revering Allah

the whole being blazes

.

*For Carpe Diem # 261 Dervish Dream. Inspired writing from Dervish Dream by Karunesh.

Haunted

The rusty door creaked open.

“The house seems to be abandoned since forever.”

“It is spooky.”

“I like spooky things,” he held her hands grinning like a fool, which she adored and entered their abode for the summers.

“There will be so much work to do.”

“I have called for the workers. They will come tomorrow and make the place livable for us.”

They had reached the center of the lobby and took a look around at the ancient tapestry and crimson walls in the mid-afternoon light; the floor was bare but for a carpet bathed in dust and a grandfather-chair in a corner.

“This house is not haunted, is it?” she meekly asked.

“Oh yes it is.”

She gasped at the mad look in his eyes and that cruel smile, she had never seen before. She trembled from within as some red fluid appeared on his lips and he snarled.

She ran for the old rusty door but it was somehow locked. She hastily looked back but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh god… oh god…”

A loud banging sound resounded from somewhere. Tears appeared in her eyes, “Please save me… oh please!”
“What has happened to him?”

She crouched down still at that very position and felt a dull ache at her chest.

Some one was coming for her; she could hear the footsteps, soft but not silent on the carpet. They sounded distant. She was in a dream world; sweaty, her entire body numb but for the sharp pain at her chest and her ribs.

“Are you okay, darling?”
“I was just joking with some help from…”

She felt a soft touch on her face and she looked up at him, into his eyes, now completely normal, gazing at her with fear or was it love, she did not know. She closed her own eyes shut, never to open them ever again.

 *Written for the Trifecta Challenge.

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.