A Summer Day, A Righteous Right

loudspeakers laughing as the electricity is cut off

and the door to be thrust away from its hinges

to allow a wisp of the wind to course through, and

warm the already sticking skin, bewildered with

tears coursing down (I am drowning, in puddles of

sweat and noise and dust, this confusing love)

.

beep– beep– beep: I mimic the vehicles, I

can be a ventriloquist, or better a mime

copying actions in a frenzy of seconds to

sew myself away from boredom that which would

eventually turn the story upside down, how fun

to read words not meant for you, it is juicy

like the gossip among the clouds who are

on a strike against relief, against mercy

.

I am a hunchback, a monkey(a ta(i)l(e) is missing)

perusing the benefits of food and drink,

to shoo away the flies of action, ants of

angular articulations,

.

let me rise… up, up, up,

let me be with the space, that ceiling

which we gawk at from the land, so to loot

some respite from this heat burning within me

and out, shriveling the aspects of this day

I have yet to explore… all these days

I have yet to explore…

.

Image source

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Otiosity Haiku

never changing things

sun will always rise from east

the futile desires

~

its otiosity-

two plastic cups for one tea

resources wasted

~

writing on paper

the futile marks of ink smeared

type on computer

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 235.

Chudail: Creature of the Dark Hours

bright and entrancing

black seductive eyes,

nefarious as night

long flowing hair,

bloodless visage of

the corpse,

smeared red

the swollen lips,

with the torso

of a hyena,

she rises at dusk

walking across

the abandoned lands

on her retral feet,

snarling her

long-pitched intonation,

the young maiden

travels through

the night in her

drab grey apparel

looking out

for the lost souls

to prey upon

and subject them

to her succulent mouth;

the chudail

of the dark hours.

Poetry prompt:- Creature creation 

The Choice is Mine

the moment the impalpable fruit comes up on the horizon

the nightly spots of light attract me, asking me to fade away with them that time

the choice is mine whether-

I want to be a seed of the sweet rising fruit or

the shine of the fading spots of night light.