trying to find a meaning

anger taking me over
I stomp my feet in the mud
where my sandals come off
getting stuck in the muck
barely conscious, I walk barefoot
with an ashen face and
trip on the faulty road
which saves me from getting hit
by an unknown vehicle travelling
at a high speed from the wrong side

unlinear yet in a line,
unmarked dreams ascend
then stop for no apparent reason
suddenly waking up, I sit down
scared to my wits, yet unharmed
for a while I stare at the wall
comprehending nothing

in someway, somewhere in that dream
you can designate a semblance of order



Picture credits: Rick Mobbs

This came out of a dream I had today while taking an afternoon siesta. . Maybe it was a nightmare, I don't know. It was all disjointed. I wrote what I remembered giving it some sort of order. I don't know what to make of it. I mean the interpretation part, not the poetry one. Can anyone? This is another rough draft. I will work on it later.

watered down------Sunday Scribblings/Friday 5

sitting on that fence
she watched the water from the stream
flowing down the vale.
slight wind touched her with a kiss
interrupting her train of thoughts.
with a simper, she stood up
self consciously walking back home-
her flowered skirt bellowing around,
her flip-flops making a silent sound.

when the cottage showed up
her contenance changed-
no matter how, no matter what
she just did not get it.
warming the water, pouring soap suds-
she got into it with a vengeance

"loadful of dishes waited for her in the sink"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are too many thing I just don't get...I did not want to rant on my blog for today. I have been doing that a lot lately. I know this is something most women would identify with. No matter what, we cannot avoid household chores! I simply don't get it! Incorporated too the Friday 5 words: kiss, train, fence, vale, simper

animal instinct

there was nothing she could do
other than wait
she was hungry and tired
job was a job
she was the best one for it
it only entailed watching over
she kept the rabble away
all alone in the still of night
she couldn't take it any longer
and slumped on the floor
flopping almost
when the key turned
she was alert in an instant
however slacking soon after
she recognised it was him
no need to worry
heard him open up a fizzy drink
when she sauntered towards him
with soulful eyes, freckled face
asking for food and warmth
a knife pierced through her neck
(before she could react)
killed by her own master
her fur bloody, she lay dead.
her animal instincts gone awry

he had barely tolerated her existence-
hating her devotion for his sylph-like wife
and after she, her mistress left him,
he had no further need of her-
irrespective of suasion

itchy, scratchy, welted

small fissures on the skin was nothing new for her
red dots appeared randomly when she had stress
without rhyme or reason
her travel plans had come up
along with it the eruptions which skewed everything
this time those itchy parts felt foreign to her touch
from elbow to wrist

what? how many centimetres of skin affected?
you can't expect her to do it in the arithmetic way-
not when she is busy scratching those welts

*Update: This isn't about me. It is a fictional piece written for [Fiction] Friday and Friday 5. I got smooth skin!

singing cherries---Friday 5/Friday Fiction

with his fingers in that blue porcelain cherry bowl
he picked a few, popped those into his mouth.
without discarding pips, he started singing
those notes going off key.

Unaware of those strange stares he kept on,
lost in a world of his own.
No more cherries left now, he suddenly stopped,
finding himself in a beach-side restaurant.

all were quiet save him; he wished for the ground
to crack up and swallow him whole
without a single word he got up.
walking as hurriedly as the sand would allow him.

waiter bore the brunt of it
as he had forgotten to pay for those cherries.

Friday 5: brunt, crack, key, cherry, discard

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for February, 1 2008: Your character was lost in her own thoughts. When she snaps back to reality, she realizes she was singing out loud. Unfortunately, she wasn't somewhere private. How embarrassing... Take it from there.

swaying dandelions---[Fiction] Friday/Friday 5

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for January 25, 2008:
Describe a first brush with danger.

Friday 5
cohere, dandelion, immerse, create, glass

Danger had been omnipresent, serpentine in her vicinity
Why hadn’t she recognised signs
Symbols enveloped by deadly intent
Coated with syrupy honey
Too late should be banned, declared passé
She shivered with after effects
Wiping her dry eyes, she resumed her work
Fingers typed furiously so much so that keyboard jarred
Still Immersed in those vitriolic words,
she was unaware of what she was creating
Jumbled prose refused to cohere.
Nonetheless, she continued with mad tapping
Dandelions placed in glass vase wilted by her sombre mood
Her much coveted blue-framed spectacles slipped, shattering to splinters
She picked pieces with her bare hands
Lacerate was inevitable, so was flow of blood
Stinging antiseptic soothed her cut with sweetest of pain
With a detachment befitting a queen, her thoughts were

‘Why is it that mental anguish diminishes physical distress’

pyramids of dreams--Friday Fiction/Fiction 5

Friday 5 words are:
interlude
grotesque
chemistry
neglect
shoelace

[Fiction] Friday theme for: January, 18 2008
Daydreaming


that elegant singer had created chemistry between herself and her listeners
after that standing ovation, silence was so thick that it could be cut with a knife
he was enjoying the interlude
he bent down to re-tie the shoelace, which had come undone
if only it was that easy to get his life back on track
because of his sheer neglect, everything around him was in shambles
he was not even particularly fond of classical forms of art
loud music with no substance was more his style
soothing notes, according to him, were for weaklings
shadows on the walls appeared so normal
were his thoughts grotesque
pyramids over pyramids of it
if his work was all done
why was he not taken seriously
when the opera started again, he daydreamed some more

“snake was being chased by a snake charmer”

see you? I don't think so---Friday 5/Friday Fiction

[Fiction] Friday Challenge:

Write a scene that ends with your character saying:
'I never want to see you again.'

Friday 5 words: floss, intense, prey, cease, swallow for January 11, 2008.

holding this way, that way he flosses.
intense pain suddenly cease-
as a tooth has fallen prey
to vigorous brushing.
For a while now, he had been unable
to swallow half chewed food.
he looks at that defenseless tooth.
gleefully throws it into waste bin
shouting at top of his voice,

“I never want to see you again”

flopped!---Fiction Friday/Friday 5

realist was gone for a while,
replaced by a stranger, wildly
fanatical tapping at growing
moss at her feet, reminiscing
forgotten events- drowsily so .

tired to core, crumples with thud
on hard ground- distorted image
as if engraved on vellum. drastic
measures frantically needed to get
her back on track of normal life.

“every so often, all one needs is rest-
along with books of fiction on bedside”

squiggles-----3WW/Friday 5

My first post for 2008. Another unpoem. My muse needs to be shaken, I suppose.

Button
Luck
Pretend

walking around that parapet,
i chew on my pencil pretending
to look like a scrivener.
fixing my eyes on a distal point-
superficially plucking on my gilt button,
thinking luck is on my side-
i trace outlines on those loose sheets-
squiggles, which do not make sense.

“who said it was easy to decipher mind?”

aches and pains---[Fiction] Friday/Friday 5

pardon my disinterest

to converse. toothache

is no joke. sanitary ware

was a bloody mess after I

brushed with medicated

paste. in my mouth

rolled tongue feels akin to

fuselage of an aircraft.

this year, winter solstice

is overshadowed by pain.

Dance of Life----Sunday Scribblings/FF/F5

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for December 14, 2007:
What is the skeleton in your character’s closet? Friday 5 words: hinge, bite, conch, gatekeeper, Charybdis. Finally: Sunday Scribblings wants us to dance to its tune this week. I made all three dance to mine!

The mere mention of dance has people swaying. All of us know dancing, even if some claim they cannot. With the beat of music, our body starts sashaying. Dancing makes blood throb. Adrenalin starts flowing and it gives us a high like any drug.

In some religions, worship started with dancing in front of the deities. Ancient dance forms started from temple dancing, to the sound of conch. Right from their childhood, girls were initiated into it. Sculptures of females as gatekeepers depicted in the dancing poses. The doors carved elaborately right to the hinges.

WE all have heard of dancing dervishes who dance in a trance like state. That takes them into that state where they feel spiritually one with THE MAKER.

Dance for me has many connotations; least of all, the bodily movements. Any movement, which thrilled me, be it sports, or as simple as laughing makes me dance in spirit. Heart and mind can dance in coordination without it being outwardly manifested. A few times, I have had shoe bites while dancing stupidly in improper footwear.

When I was younger, rapid dance movements made my head feel like Charybdis spewing water over me in a whirlpool, which gave me a nauseating feeling. You can describe that feeling as everything other than the mere skeleton moving with nothing to hold you. Not until you fall to ground. Believe me, I have and not only while dancing.

A question: Is life a dance? All aspects of it?

transient-----Fiction Friday/Friday 5

Your evil villain wants to rule the world. Write about her (or his) reasons.

Friday 5 has the following words. I combine both.

mustard
piano
elastic
moat
notorious

absorbed in music wafting from piano
played by her reclusive notorious neighbour,

she spatters mustard seeds in oil, adds cut
vegetables, stirring to the tunes of Beethoven.

thin line between practical life merges with
transient one. moat separating minds has to

taken down, leaving it unfastened for winds
of change. her past is a closed chapter, gone

forever to be forgotten like any bad dream.
wanting to rule the world, she had changed

her direction after landing up in a tranquil
place. vast wasteland soothed frayed edges.

pulling out loosened elastic out of pyjamas,
she puts another, stitching it meticulously.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I put this linky thing, so that you leave direct links to your blogs. As blogger is not helping, self help is important!

abstracted---Fiction Friday/Friday 5

What throws your characters off their game?

his brush evenly moved on canvas-
each stroke a masterpiece in itself;
he gave in to his creative instincts-
propelled by inner forces unknown.

sounds of piano was vintage for now,
his fingers refusing to run over keys.
her cries of death never left him-
his life gone, music was cacophony.

in broader scheme of endeavours-
duple functioning of talents so intent,
latently displaying twisted mind-
his assessment had all but ceased.

poignancy harboured inspiration
abstractly painting out his agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Friday 5 words are:

duple
scheme
vintage
harbour
cease

Combined both Fiction Friday and Friday 5 to write this down. Somehow it has not come out as I wished. Suppose, abstract poetry does not come easy for me.I will get around it some time later. Or maybe not.