Tuesday, 14 July 2015

Tanka #4

queen bee 's motto is
to not lift a finger as
she might break a nail
if a foolish fool does not
obey her pinkish pink wand.


~Poem 16

What if I break a nail?
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: Piccsy)

Tanka #3

freshly baked cookies
exit a rusted oven
while knitting mittens
tangled threaded opticals
chant tales like a time machine.

~Poem 15

Grandparents are a blessing
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: Google images)

Sunday, 12 July 2015

Tanka #2

on Saturn's fourth ring
she casts a paradigm shift
erasing errors
with one leg atop the left
as stardust slips through her fists.


~Poem 14

Perched on Saturn's rings
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: Google images)

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

Tanka #1

ageing with outrage
for warmth to be outdated
a three chambered heart
harshly dipped in cold lava
red is blood and love no more.


~Poem 13

Could red be only blood?
(Picture credits: Leslie Ann O'Dell)

Thursday, 2 July 2015

Average Joe

Unlike fables or fairy tales, quotes have a great impact on a reader's mind. They are quite apt too. The ones we choose to read are most definitely relatable, and the ones we ignore, make us the only exception to it.
"Dreams come true," is an example of such a quote. There are things waiting for you down the line, and believe me, it's worth the wait. Just like the canvas that rested before me, which needed more details, in its most minute details. I placed my arms parallel to the ground and stared at my palms. They were completely varnished with prismatic little molecules; not from their natural pigmentation, but from the jars of fabric paint that surrounded my cross-legged posture.
I chuckled and blinked with a perfect coordination at the result of my doodling brush. Only he could bring out the girly side in a Plain Jane girl like me! 'Dreams do come true,' I recited that same quote in my mind, but this time with emphasis. Most daydreamed of and drooled over dashing personalities. Here's where I stood out or rather in. They wanted different, they wanted unique. However, I wanted the same; the same as an Average Joe. Anyone; just anyone, would've felt at ease, with him around.
We all have secrets hiding in our souls, only the hiding spot differs. Yet another exception! I'm sure he didn't know how to hide his. His eyes shone everything. They twinkled and glistened. They whispered and yelled. They were brave and had fears. They were differently unique.
Even the palette beside me failed in producing the perfect colour for his little irises. Every second arc of them bore a new shade of brown. Hazelnut, then coffee, again hazelnut and then honey. And how can I forget those little pupils of his? They were something more than mesmerising. At one end they were grey, and the other end of the circle, they glimmered. In fact, they could be divided into two halves. I knew it right from the moment I dared to look into them. No, he wasn't intimidating, like a mysterious book character, but he was at ease, despite all his misery. This clear-cut distinction wasn't really visible though. Sometimes, they would overlap and that caused all the confusion in my mind. I couldn't tell whether he was jaded or in a notorious mood.
When he twitched his mouth, at something boring, only his right cheek would lift, and his various experiments with his beard still didn't cover his dimple. Oh, and his left cheek had a cleft! I wouldn't call it a deformity. I would rather call it Lord's creativity.
Those sideburns of his fell so perfectly and evenly over his ears. Each strand knew its way down to his ear flap. The ones that covered his scalp looked as if they longed to be ruffled and patted.
I tilted my head and blinked again at the masterpiece in front of me, and as I got lost in it again, my beret fell off. He came in and put it back on my head and took my newly refurbished hands in his. He gazed at them, and I could tell that he wished for skin like that. We all have future lines running across our palms. But it wasn't the same in his case. He had a health problem, which whitened his hands completely. They were on their way to recovery, and he wished to have those same future rays. I wish he realised that bearing those lines meant allowing others to interfere in your fate.
I  kissed his nose and put some blue paint on his cheek, trying my best to tease him. "Dolphin!" Yes, that's what he resembled.
Wouldn't it have been great if I could paint? Well, that wasn't my cup of tea. So, I just took my ball point pen and scribbled some more words, in order to describe him.


Writing within a write
(Picture credits: Ghidaq al-Nizar)