Someone offered a bouquet
Tender age,
tender heart
I was walking on the clouds
Surrounded by bubbles
soft and surreal, and magical
Exuberant was the life
I forgot that bubbles will burst.
Clouds may evaporate
The hand that offered flowers
May leave me in the lurch.
The experience was exhilarating.
I can die for it again and again
PROMPT #433
We have an image prompt this week.
Under the tremendous pressure of deadlines
I sit and watch time fly by
The calendar merely shows
How many days have passed
Watermarks keep reminding
You have crossed the deadline
I acquire yet another badge of failure
To be tormented by guilt.
To whom should I complain?
After all,
This pressure is something I chose myself.
Or perhaps I prefer living under pressure,
For
If I were to finish everything on time,
How would I bear the loneliness of the remaining time?
Documentation
Humans have been recording history since time immemorial—documenting every detail of days, dates, times, and eras. They write down what happened, when and how it occurred, and what the consequences were. What was the outcome of every human action, and for what purpose? Was it merely to preserve facts, or in the hope that in times of trouble, one would turn to history and learn a lesson from it?
Yet, it seems to me that humans read history for entertainment and then forget it. History is the last place they will look to seek a lesson. And as the famous saying goes, those who do not remember history are bound to repeat it.
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”, George Santayana.
For this week’s W3 challenge, you are invited to use a nursery rhyme as inspiration for an original poem. Your poem does not need to rhyme, and it may be written in any form you choose, but please try to keep it to no more than 24 lines.
Whimsical World Of...
Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon.
Seeing this scene, the little dog did croon:
"What a funny game this is!
Let's all play and sing, no one should miss!"
He sent the cow a flying kiss.
The cow smiled and jumped again,
The dog laughed hard and sang again,
The cat played her fiddle with bliss.
They all joined together for this:
" Oh, the animal and kids' kingdom
so pure, so bliss, so full of fun
Join it or, away you run"
Oh! It's so incredible!"
"Hey, diddle, diddle,
This is not a riddle,
What a night, what a scene,
What a blissful moon!"
When the world was swooning over this tune
The dish ran away with the spoon.
Hot Cross Buns
On his tricycle
The vendor comes shouting
'Hot-cross buns!Hot-cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot-cross buns!'
They smell divine and are fresh as dew
Sometimes I buy one and sometimes a few
My pet greets him with a soft woof-woof
Though sometimes he prefers to pretend to be aloof
Especially when the vendor didn't bring eggs
He shows irritation by jumping on his hind legs
Scared, Wandor runs to his van
My pet follows him with its tail wagging like a fan
This game gives them both a lot of fun
Vendor pleases him, with a hot cross bun
My pet waits daily for the vendor's call
'Hot-cross buns!Hot-cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot-cross buns!'
May your heart
Dwell in harmony with every soul.
May your heart
Be filled with friendship, compassion, and gratitude.
Only then will your face
shimmers with an inner glow—
just as the ocean shimmers with the light of the sun,
I don’t miss who I once was.
I like my present version of me better.
I love my confidence, silence and solitude.
I have come a long way, not to look back and regret.
You say you have changed a lot.
Obviously, everyone likes an obedient, loyal and honest person who will dance to their tunes.
I’m still a loving, loyal and honest person, but for me too.
Don’t you like me?
That’s your problem.
Enchanting Scabious
Ruffeld lavender petals
On slender green stems
Swaying in the summer breeze
Along a shady woodland path
escalators
If only these escalators had arrived a little sooner—
Back when I was a bit younger.
Climbing up and down stairs—at the office, at home, in shops, and in the market—my knees have worn out.
Had this convenience been available earlier,
how much easier this daily hustle and bustle would have been.
And…
I wouldn’t have had to wear a fake smile just to hide my pain.
For this week’s W3 challenge, writers are invited to capture a dramatic moment in just a handful of lines — a storm breaking, a glass shattering, a door slamming, a sudden realization, or any instant where something changes sharply or unexpectedly.
You may write in any poetic form, with the following restrictions:
A bunch of youth I am proud to know
Brave, they take the bull by the horns,
Strifes they meet with a grin,
Not scared to walk on the thorns.
No loose talk from them, nor did they brag
But once, I saw them lose their cool,
Cussed, jumped and yelled with fear,
At the sight of a bug- cockroach!
Am I overly inquisitive?
Instead of enjoying the ingenuity of the artist
who has conceived the idea of adorning the pairs of non-functional shoes with flowers?
I’m worried about three unadorned shoes, and even more about the third pair, which is missing from the scene.
Has it fallen from its pedestal?
Where has it gone?
Was it always single, or did its partner abandon it?
Did someone steal it, or
has it simply gone astray?
The space is really stinging my eyes.
Why do we search for what we lack, ignoring what we have?
Friendly chat
About who had gathered more fat
Begins with light notes
Simple, fun and humour
soon turns to a heated argument.
Voices rise,
Soaring to the heights of the sky.
Dark clouds gather;
A storm is brewing—
With lightning and thunder,
And torrential rain.
Friendship turns to bitterness.
They stop speaking to one another.
But for how long can friends stay away?
This week, let us wrap our heads around the word
Is that you? Is it a person, image, concept, value, dream or something else? Let the wistfulness peep out unapologetically.
The Elusive Self
“Is that me?” she asks her reflection in the mirror.
An elusive person, difficult to understand, even for her.
She thinks it’s time for serious Retrospective Introspection.
Though not skilled at hiding or withholding my true personality, since childhood, I avoided emotional intimacy, fearing I would get cheated like …
Perhaps it was written right on my face: “Come, make a fool of me; criticise me, or mock me.”
With a lack of self-confidence and past negative experiences (like being manipulated even by close friends, or so I believed), as soon as I gained some understanding, I sought a way to save myself—a path that was, perhaps, the wrong one.
But how could anyone possibly understand me, or advise me, when I wouldn’t even let anyone get close?
I maintained a serious countenance because I was terrified of making an embarrassing mistake. Whenever others tried to engage in playful activities, I remained poker-faced.
I tried to protect myself from judgment or exploitation by avoiding social contact, trying to avoid drawing attention, and displaying a stiff, guarded demeanour.
I always avoided speaking in public or raising my hand in group settings. I often stayed clear of parties or environments where unpredictable, lighthearted interactions were likely to occur. If forced, I would leave early or hide in other rooms.
I was always guarded and didn’t reveal much about myself, making it difficult for others to get to know me, and this resulted in having very few like-minded friends.
Thankfully, my actions and true motives are not hard to figure out or comprehend, because simplicity and honesty have never evaded me.
It’s not that I didn’t try to come out of this mindset, because living like this was painful; the process was slow, tedious, and required very strong willpower.
And this is not a one-day task. You have to keep making continuous efforts to achieve success.
( I struggled to find words, so I wrote these two pieces earlier. Now, I don’t want to delete them, so I will publish them.)
A life of excessive security, care, and comfort
renders you dependent on ease—
compelling you to rely on others forever.
A finely carved, smooth, round base—
cannot stand freely without support.
You need a base with rough edges—
a sturdy foundation—otherwise,
You will fall just as
Humpty Dumpty fell.
And success will be elusive, friends.
Some were elusive for me
those whom I desired.
I was elusive for some.
who desired me
Time slipped away in the race to win one another.
Life was passing by in the pursuit of shadows.
Then, when I finally abandoned all hope of attaining anything,
I received that which was beyond all expectation.
Perhaps this is destiny.
For, in the end, everyone receives exactly what was written for them.
Justice, Channeling,Spiritual,Astrology,Truth- Seeker.
Soft Words, wild heart
Light shall shine out of darkness!
The Written, Visual & Audio Art of M. Snyder
start to art.
Write the vision; make in plain
Poetry from my pen
Motivate, uplift and inspire
Nolcha the Poet
My view, tho' somewhat askew...
A gorillas existential crisis
all the rules of free form
Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever
hai performance poetry and short fiction
Sweat, toil, and crofting — poetry with muck on its boots.
This blog is for my insights on life, the Bible, hiking adventures with my grandson and whatever is important to me
Gifts from the Musey Lady and Me. "Laissez-moi vous raconter ma vraie histoire."
Justice, Channeling,Spiritual,Astrology,Truth- Seeker.
Soft Words, wild heart
Light shall shine out of darkness!
The Written, Visual & Audio Art of M. Snyder
start to art.
Write the vision; make in plain
Poetry from my pen
Motivate, uplift and inspire
Nolcha the Poet
My view, tho' somewhat askew...
A gorillas existential crisis
all the rules of free form
Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever
hai performance poetry and short fiction
Sweat, toil, and crofting — poetry with muck on its boots.
This blog is for my insights on life, the Bible, hiking adventures with my grandson and whatever is important to me
Gifts from the Musey Lady and Me. "Laissez-moi vous raconter ma vraie histoire."
Justice, Channeling,Spiritual,Astrology,Truth- Seeker.
Soft Words, wild heart
Light shall shine out of darkness!
The Written, Visual & Audio Art of M. Snyder
start to art.
Write the vision; make in plain
Poetry from my pen
Motivate, uplift and inspire
Nolcha the Poet
Sharing Thoughts 
