Pure Love

 Pure Love

Sometimes in my heart a feeling of storm emerge

As I flip through the pages of fiction novel

Love takes  couples to a higher planes

Reach the crescendo of lust.

A simple handshake, soft brushes of touch, deep penetrative eyes describe endless love..

Does that love really exist?

Sometimes in my heart a feeling of storm emerge

When my eyes rest upon a movie scene where couple strive hard to make their marriage work

There is always a villain who is the cause of their rift 

Couple influenced, selfish, lacks pure trust

Does that love really exist.

I look around me, try to figure out what turns them on.

Everybody is looking for something 

there is always expectation, disappointment, stress.

Love changes it's meaning with the change of clock

Young seek lust, adult satisfied sex, for senior it's just attitude, care, concern

In sickness and in health.

Sometimes in my heart a feeling of storm emerge

If you live in your own island, away from external world, there exist only one love..

love for self.

Dreams

 Prompt 13. Uncanny/fear

@ampat @sunitasing

Dreams

They seem so real, instill fear

Uncanny most of the time

I awake with sudden jerk

Body so warm that I could cook a meal

With beads of water on my forehead.

I float in air

Across seven seas but search

For passport, forgot at home

The immigrate officer won't let me pass

 without valid visa

I cry, I implore, stuck in strange land

Admidst baren fields, 

Wild animals everywhere

But can't find the route back home

At 60, I am stuck in examination hall

Solving the papers cramped in teens

Forgot my lines 

Attempted to cheat

Caught red handed on my knees

Collecting the answers spread on sheets

Guilty, humiliated, slowly lifted my eyes blinded by my child's burning glare

One day I almost died, still hooked to beeping gadgets

The nurse tried to make a call

To inform my family of my demise

Soon my bed was surrounded by people

Around my bed, 

Some on shelves, 

Others on ceiling of the room

Man in black coat read my will

Everything was donated to a private trust.

Suddenly a silence, 

Everybody disappeared, 

There was no one around to cover my till.

Dreams

Seem so real

Uncanny most times

But instill fear 

I wake up always with sudden jerk.

The Colors On Her Plate

 The colors on her plate

Augments her appetite

Dark brown roasted chicken, 

red  seeded circles of tomatoes

Off white slices of baked potatoes, 

Yellowish green strips of devil chilly

Saffron infused rice of ĺnutty flavors

White soft idlis steamed in a foil

Not heapful of each

she is not a lady

with giant appetite

small morsel 

just that fit 

between three finger tips

she is alert

she is on diet

reads hundred books

on yoga, meditations, health

to stay  skeleton slim

like Sahara desert child

but she does love the taste of life

as colorful as peacock quill

The pink rosy happiness

Dark red passions of lust, 

purple shining bright smiles

green chit chat gossip of times

The grey tones of loneliness are buried under piles

Out of sight

In dark corners of her mind

They do resurface 

sometimes

When blue feelings strikes

But then 

that is rare

and when it does 

like a monkey she hops

grabbing pastries, cakes

sweets

voraciously eating

hungry all the time

even during dark hours 

at night

till she collapses on sofa 

like oversize stuffed heavy tribe

Mom Knew Nothing About Mothers Day

 mom never knew anything about mother's day

she didn't even know her birth date

what was there to celebrate?

but even if she knew

what would she do?

would she allow me to cook for her

or would she have done it herself.

restaurant hopping was unknown to her

all days were special to her

and also to me

i never hugged her

nor kissed

nor say I love you

but feelings were real

beyond words

it expressed itself

with respect and obedience

in never doubting her decisions

she was always around

to check on me

I knew I was

protected

safe

secure.

Now

there is just one picture

on my desk

but it speaks volumes with me.

happy mothers day

nobody can replace mothers love.

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Poems are Random Thoughrs

 Poems are the random thoughts

that seek

a tune

a rhythm

a form

a meter

sometimes they have

a style of their own.

They are just a string of opinions

knotted together

end to end

People decide whether we write good poems or not...

they are the ones

to judge

to react,

to comment,

to critique

Sometimes even slap or abuse.

I always write good poems..

They are my thoughts that reflect

my sensitivity

my emotions

my reaction

my assumptions

If others don't like it

then what do I do?

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construction Workers

 Workers

brave the hot scorching heat

to built a home

that house the elite.

Water dripping down their neck

Dark skin glisten under sun

Arms swing continuously

breaking each tile

Unmindful of the noise and dust

that enter my house across the street.

I quietly shut my window

to return to my soundless cool room of my gym

The workers continue to muscle up the heat.

color Palette

Day 20...color palette

#tsl prompt for #napowrimo

The colors on my plate

Augments my appetite

Dark brown roasted chicken, red circles of tomatoes

Off white slices of potatoes,

Yellowish green strips of chilly

Saffron infused rice

White idli in a foil

I go for vibrant taste of life

The pink rosy happiness

Dark red passions,

yellow shining bright smiles

The grey tones of loneliness are buried under piles

Out of sight

In dark corners of my mind

They do resurface

sometimes

When blue feelings strikes

But then

that is rare

the endless rainbow colors envelop me always

Its the loving company

Of every hue

of my friends

I go for vibrant shades of life

Everybody has a story to Tell

 Everybody has a story to tell

In this month of April

Droplets glide down the spine

Tingling every sensation

Mixed with words that weave a long tale

So although I sit by the window staring at blanket of sky twinkling with stars in row

I am transported to another world by poets

Awakened at Napowrimo.

I Rot

 Do you understand

Pain

Stress

Depression

Follows

Pain

Want

Life

Without

Pain

Do you understand?

You can enjoy

Parties

with

friends

Throw

Parties

Carelessly

Day

Night

Parties

You can enjoy

I rot in dark room

Alone

Nobody

Visits

Me

Alone

Deal

With

Pain

Alone

In dark room, I rot.

#skinnypoems

#poemform

Cook for Me

 I am not your wife

nor lover of your lifetime

why you come to me?

Enjoyment matters

Love for food bring me to you

You just cook for me

#seduko #poetryform #napowrimoapril2022

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