Monday, July 16, 2018

Rain Dance


It’s time to sing our favorite song,
The rains are here again.

Step out dear sister, race the wind
 The rains are here again.

Listen to the clouds calling your name
The rains are here again.

Laugh at the look of splashed puddles
The rains are here again.

Let the drops sparkle in your ebony curls

The rains are here again.

Twirl and dance in tune to the splatter
The rains are here again.

Wave to the inky sky in delight
The rains are here again.

Oh, my sister! Let us celebrate
The rains are here again.



Painting by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju

Please bear with the words. Writing during a writer's block wasn't easy. 

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Meltdown

The image is taken from Google. 

The popsicle dripped down her hand. She licked it, wrinkling her nose at the added salt to the sweetness of the grape. With the sun roasting her alive, she finally realized how the turkey feels in the oven. 


A summer tale using 38 words. 

Monday, July 2, 2018

Water Under the Bridge

The image is taken from Google search. 

The rippling waves shied from my touch
like water under the bridge.

A gentle breeze blew the dead leaf from my fingers
like water under the bridge.

The glorious sunset left me in the dark
like water under the bridge.

The reason to wait no longer existed
like water under the bridge.

Yet, my heart refused to let go
like water under the bridge.

Twilight lost its stars in the clouds
like water under the bridge.

While I remained unmoving, my tears flowed
like water under the bridge.

The words of the past swirled around me
like water under the bridge.

The haunting agony not letting me move on
like water under the bridge.

Some stories never leave us alone
like water under the bridge.



This poem is written in Chant style. The poem has no rhyme scheme or meter.
"Water under the bridge" phrase has a different meaning, though I tried to use it in the literal sense, in the 'phrase' sense and also gave it a twist implying that the issue may still affect the person despite saying otherwise. 

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Myra's Wand

The image is taken from Google. 


“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The wiry man with overgrown inky hair asked her.

“Yes, my lord.” Myra murmured peeking at the members of the High Order.

“You may proceed.” The man stepped to a side.

“I plead forgiveness, my lords. My little magic never hurt a being. If you do feel that I crossed the line, I request for another chance to make amends.” Her voice had the right note of apprehension in it.

The four members looked at each other and nodded. The wiry man, a representative, spoke. “Please step into the circle, young wizard.”

Myra obeyed wondering what it was. Her emerald green eyes shone with curiosity. But she remained silent. Her mother would be furious. Despite her repeated lectures, Myra did get the attention of the High Order. It was not a good thing.

Light from the crystal above shone on her. The room looked like a giant crystal ball with rainbow colors twinkling from all sides. Myra wondered if she could take a picture using her mobile. 

“Wizard Myra, please hand over your wand.” The man stretched his hand.

“But…” She looked puzzled. The stern expression on their faces left her no choice. She quietly took out a chopstick from her handbag and placed it in his hand.

“Thank you. Now, the Order speaks.” The man gestured.

An old man with apple-colored cheeks and round belly spoke. “Wizard Myra, the magical power always comes with responsibility. You have used the magic to do your homework, put a frog in your classmate’s dress, tripped an innocent boy, and stole a brooch from a jewelry store.”

Myra looked sheepish. Maybe she went a little overboard in using her powers.

“Even if we ignore those as a teenager’s silly indulgence, we cannot overlook the incident that led to a lost opportunity for a young man.” He continued.

“I never troubled any man, my lord.” Myra blurted.

Another member spoke. She looked at least five hundred years old. “You do not know the consequences of your actions, Wizard Myra. You only thought you were advancing the time so that you wouldn’t have to bear with your chemistry lecture. But, you interfered with the universal clock.”

Myra looked appalled. She twirled her wand thrice and pushed the time by ten minutes.

The apple cheeks man spoke again. “Many people got confused, missed buses, almost had accidents because the traffic signals jammed. And most importantly, a young man lost his only chance to get his dream job because his interview time got lost in your magic.”

“I had no idea, my lords,” Myra mumbled.

“We see that. You have not bothered to listen to your mother’s instructions. Not once did she misuse her powers.” The lady said.

“I apologize, my lords. I will never do such a thing again.” Myra vowed.

“Yes, Wizard Myra. We will see to it that you will not. The Order forbids you to use your powers.” They ruled.

Aghast, Myra blinked her tears. What would she do without her magic? “Please, my lords.”

They shook their heads. “If you prove to be worthy of your powers, you will receive them when you turn eighteen. The Order has spoken.”

Myra stared helplessly as the wiry man broke her wand. She was nothing without her wand. It was only four months ago on her sixteenth birthday that she became a wizard. Her mother tried her best to train Myra. She should have listened instead of taking the powers for granted.

With her head bowed, Myra let her tears fall. The place turned dark for an instant. In the next second, Myra found herself in her room.

She sat on the bed staring at her reflection in the mirror. The musical tune of her mobile phone startled her.

“You are late. Come soon.” Her friend scolded.

Myra looked at her watch and rushed out. She was late for the party. Running out of the house, Myra pulled the stick that held her hair together in a messy knot. The wavy locks flowed down her shoulders. She twirled it thrice. Nothing happened.

“You cannot fool the High Order. Your punishment remains extended for another three years. The real wand in your hand is of no use to you.” A voice spoke from above.


Cursing, she rushed to the nearest stop. She missed the bus by half a minute. With no taxi nearby, Myra walked back home. The wand a mere chopstick in her hands.  

Monday, June 11, 2018

The Nymph

The image is taken from Google and edited. 


It was middle of the night
when a flutter of wings
through the open window
gently shook him from his dreams.

He blinked in surprise
as the nymph blew him a kiss
and faded into the dark night,
luring him to step out of the house.

A flash caught his eye;
was it the nymph or a shooting star?
Mesmerized by the glittery wings,
he followed her into the woods.

She darted from one tree to another,
her tinkling laugh teasing his senses.
Tripping over roots and dead trees,
he lunged to grab her, to own her.

Deep in the thick forest, she enticed and vanished in a blink.
Bewildered, he heaved and huffed,
as fear tingled on his skin.

Soft voices floated around him,
easing his racing pulse.
The nymph danced with her friends,
their sparkle lighting up the delicate blooms.

His feet grew roots into the earth;
his limbs sprouted tender leaves;
tears flowed from his eyes,
as the breeze purified his heart and soul.

His vow to save the trees
echoed in the silence,
after the nymphs left him alone
reflect upon the damage humans do the Nature.

Wednesday, June 6, 2018

The Boon



"Open your eyes. Name your wish." The majestic figure smiled.
"Cool. Give me lots of sapience." He scratched the beard.
"It is acquired by implementing intelligence to gain experience," God explained.
"I used my intelligence to chant your prayer for 90 years. Now, give it to me." He demanded.






Monday, June 4, 2018

Where lies Future?

The image is taken from Google and edited. 

Where lies future? Curious,
I stare into the daylight
as the sun smiles glorious,
faint hope blooms to my delight.

I reach for the galaxy,
stretching to touch the starlight.
Clouds snowed on my fantasy,
turning me numb with frostbite.

It must be my delusion;
Life, I know is a tutor.
Yet remains the confusion.
So I ask, where lies future?



Trying out a new poetry style called the Ae Freislighe. (It's an Irish style of poetry.)