Where is the Moon

Credits: Getty Images

Mother promised the moon when I was three.
Father swore I'd be a queen at five.
Sister taunted I was an orphan on my seventh birthday.
Mary pledged she wouldn't reveal my crush in school.
Stella stole my assignment she borrowed for copying.
Rick whispered I was his first love during prom dance.
Elle said I was to be an artist as the show flopped.
Kirk vowed we'd be together forever on our wedding day.
The doctor assured my child would survive in the womb.
My son agreed to take me home from the asylum.
I'm still waiting for the moon...


The poem was written for a theme prompt 'deception'. 

Monster on the Bed

The image is taken from Google. 

"Psst!"
"Hello, buddy!"
I greeted my friend up there.

"Mommy!"
"Daddy!"
He screeched. It hurt my ears.

"Honey, don't be afraid."
"Play with me."
I hoped he would be brave enough to reply.

"There is a monster under my bed."
"DO something!"
His wails got louder. I winced.

"Listen to me, kiddo."
"I won't hurt you. Stop jumping on my head."
I still tried to make him understand.

"My room is haunted!"
"The monster will EAT me!"
He danced hard on the bed. I was getting squished.

"Argh! Damn you!"
"I don't eat my friends."
I roared in anger. How dare he!

"Mommy!"
"Take it away."
He hollered. Why throw that round thingy at me when you are scared?


"Ouch!"
"Stop it!"
I cried in pain as my head hurt. I think I am dyin...g.

Fancy Dump Bag

The image is taken from sammydress.com 

Dump! Toss! Heap!
Yeah! Go on, honey,
Throw in a few more tissues.
Duh! So blasted annoying!
What does she take me for?
A fancy trash carrier?

Huff! Who needs all tubes, jars, and sticks?
Lipsticks, liners, powders.
Pens, stapler, crumpled paper.
Coins, crushed dollars, candy.
Ketchup and Sugar packets!
Am I a waste bin, darling?

Does she even know my value?
The celebrities hug and kiss me
They cuddle me like an infant!
I would be cherished on the air-conditioned shelves.
And here, I am, with this hyper kid,
Suffering worse than a three dollar cloth bag!

Oh! Comes the Queen again
Ow! Nah, sweetheart, stop!
Hold on, for a minute, sweetie.
I'll have to teach you to care for your things.
What would you do if I vanish,
With all your precious junk?

Give it a try and see, girlie
I'll be gone in the blink of an eye. Whoosh!!

The Forgotten Bell

In the middle of an ancient land a temple, long
forgotten stood tall against the onslaught, year after
year. Why did no one care about it?
Who would? The bronze bell chimed in agony. Was
the king to be blamed? Were the people guilty? One day, I heard
the bell's strained words that shook my soul. No!
Never again! No invader, no crusader would ruin my land anymore.


Painting by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju
The poem is written in the Golden Shovel poetry form.
The words are taken from The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth. 

Window

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Light and dark, bright and gloomy- the words echo in my mind that is as empty as the house.

It's time to open the barred window. My suffocating soul needs the summer sun.

Let the breeze ruffle my shady curtains. Let the flowers remind me how to smile. 

Twinkling Star

The image is taken from google search

What is that I see? A twinkle!
Oh my! How beautiful a twinkle
it is! Can something so little
shine brighter than a star?

There it is again. The twinkle
now paired with another twinkle!
Like two lovers, close yet apart. Little
by little I creep forward to see the new star.

As I get closer to the twinkle
it shines brighter than my twinkle!
My tips shimmer in fury. Those little
eyes are competing with me, a star.

I glare at them, my twinkle
threatening to dim their twinkle.
Alas! Nothing happens. The little
eyes continue to dazzle like the star.

A sudden cloud hides my twinkle
I peek from behind, astonished to find the twinkle
dim and dull, lost in the dark night. A sad little
voice whispers far away, "The clouds stole my star."



This style is called The Golden Shovel. Interesting, right?
The words are taken from the famous nursery rhyme. I used only the first line in repetition.