Ghosts

Hi guys! I’m posting this in response to the Trifextra Writing Challenge at http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/12/trifextra-week-forty-five.html! It’s community judged, so if you like it please spare a few minutes to put in a vote for me (Sorrows In A Serenade)! Really appreciate it, thanks! 😀

Ghosts of boxy apartment

walls wail watching

soul after soul fall; fail

spectacularly –

clean, crisp sheets tugged

up by cold, clammy fingers of hell,

smothering and blinding.

Light succumbs, darkness wins.

Ghosts wail.

more at sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com!

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Hollow

Finally back after a long uncomfortable absence! Hope you missed me! 🙂

hollow eyes –
window to
hollow soul.
rainbows of youth
faded, dull grey hues
plague cloudy skies.

Bridges

I walk along the rivers
Which sources lie between
The pale white clouds in the sky
Which ends anywhere
Its tail a snaking wisp of smoke

Song of the Star

Dear children,

I am the star –
No, not the enchanting, twinkling stars
In the dark night sky

Those, are for dreamers.

I am the star –
Glittering, alluring
The lamp to your future.

I am the brightest.

The Photocopy Machine

Green glow consumes the person.

Churning, whirring,
White papers with black dots, white papers with black dots, white papers with black dots
Again.
The same blots on the same purity.

other voices

Sometimes I
admire the
moon for it
cannot match
the sun’s glory
so it finds
it’s own patch
of sky to
brighten.

Winter’s Nocturnes – A Sestina

He sits down.

Melodies unfurl with a twitch, a light trill,
And the man leans back, savouring every note
Cloaked in black, and stained with tears,
Winter’s gifts a forgotten sight. Under the stars,
He bows his head, straightens his back, and the haunting
Begins. He slams on the piano keys, sorrow a dark cloud.

He remembers lying down, watching the clouds,
He remembers the chirping birds’ magnificent trill,
He remembers her – her bright green eyes haunting
His own. Her hand, knotted
With his. He remembers lying down, watching the stars
As each twinkled, then faded, merely a tiny tear.

A Broken Umbrella

We’ll dance a waltz in the rain.
Let
the twirling raindrops breeze past us
And the lovely patters sing.

We’ll grow our roses in the rain.
Let
the soothing winds fondle our creation
And blooming petals rise.

Fishermen’s Song

Gnarling fury,
Menacing wrath!

From Poseidon’s clutches
Deliver thy torn sail!

A Meal.

Shaking hands prepared this meal,
Shaking hands finish this meal.

Mother and Daughter
Eat in hushed silence
Mother and Daughter
A suspense, turbulent.

Fish.

Eyes turn to stare
At the new fish on the street

Dirty brown, ragged, dusty, filthy.
A pure-bred,
A perfect addition to their collection
In the tank.

Joining the ranks of four others,
A school, lined up in neat row.
Body after body after body after body after body
Resting on their tails – fish have no legs.

Alley – A Sestina

apologies for not updating for very long! Lots of projects and schoolwork, but the busiest period hasn’t even arrived yet! Really very sorry for my lack of discipline >< anyway hope you like this! A sestina, on how we all too often lose our way through the treacherous territory of gold and diamonds. Hope you like it, and appreciate the comments!

In the alley, I meet the Spirit
The maiden of the Fair
Night, shrouded in mist.
Claiming lives
From clutches of play
To join her in the fog

Of sunsets and swings – a sestina

first attempt at sestina! 🙂

The subtle glimmers of first light
Begin their charming
Magic on the green grass where swings Lie
The ancient encasement dropped
And burdened swings slowly bow
Then rise

Yet the swing with its rose
It couldnt outmatch the light
Slashing through the trees’ bow
No soul could it charm
For even as rain drops
The lifeless swings lay.

Wish –

I wish I could sing you the songs of the seasons.
The flaming warm summer, the lively spring.
The coppery transformation of autumn, the silver cool of winter.

I wish I could tell you stories of life and death
The birth of a winged dream,
The sorrows in a serenade.

I wish I can lie beside you.

You murderer!

You are a murderer.
Your hands,
Your body, are
Stained with blood
And its rusty copper metallic scent.
Exotic, you say.

Look in your closet,
The evidence is there.
A skeleton.
Declaring your malicious cruelty

You proclaim your elegance,
You say you’re “high-class”
How apt, to live miles away while others do your
Dirty work
To satiate your craving wants.

Autumn

Falling.

Falling.

Into the pit of despair
Into the trough of despondence

The boy fell.

Not a sheer drop nor steep descent
But a slow,
Painful slide.

Not a scream nor a cry
But a chorus of mocking laughter
Accompanying his stifled sobs.

a fun task

Start.
Stop.
Doors open.
Man walks in.

Start.
Stop.
Doors open.
Another
Man walks in.

Them and Her

They twittered.

They chattered.

They flattered.

They jabbered.

While she sobbed.

They lavished him with praise

They lowered their heads with grace

Release

Let it loose.

Flee from bondage like a dove.
Soar like an eagle.

It rattles the bars of the cage
A metal trap
It scrapes the sides, it flits from
Top to bottom to left to right
Searching
For an escape.
A gap.
A glint of precious light

Farewell.

It’s time.

The clocks strike 10 and a half.
It’s our last meeting. Together.

It’s quiet.

Winds blow a sad tune
An eerie song. It rains and
Sky weeps in sorrow.

I hear the chattering of the dust spirits.
Animatedly, discussing their latest
Victims

What it means to write

I can’t calculate the value of Pi or find the height of a ferris wheel
I can’t list the causes of global warming or dissect the parts of a frog
I can’t write an article on the global economic crisis
I can’t analyze the effects of population growth.

But
I can make magic.
Spin pictures out of words, bring colour into dull black.
I can touch and inspire.
Ignite your hidden emotions, give a voice to a silent scream.
I can change the world
Make the fantasies we work towards, unite millions in a cause.

Past

You know the rainbow is fading when you
Tear away from the embrace of the cute mouse
And you find an excuse to kill the sorcerer
And you coop up at home cowering of the sun

You know the mountains await when your
Little country path becomes winding
And your forty winks become zero
And your toys are suffocating in the closet.

Rice: revised

note to all: please read the original poem! Would love if you could give me some feedback on how the original poem was, and whether or not the revision made it better! Thanks! You guys are awesome! 🙂

A dry shower rains as
Two close their eyes in a passionate seal
The shower explodes into fireworks of colours
Love, and hope, and joy

The celebration roars
Delight a drug, delirious

Who cared to admire
Those pearls of labour?
Who cared to pity
That wasted beauty?

Rice

A shower of confetti; of luck
Of joyous smiles and happy times
Pattering lightly

Who cared to admire
Those pearls of labour?
Who cared to pity
That wasted beauty?

Bubble

Lens,
Warping the world into myriad dimensions.
Effervescent,

A mirage.

Caging ourselves

Our doing
Sheltered, surrounded
With the familiar coolness
Distanced from the weird wonderful world.