King, Dove, Friend And Peace – Haiku #33

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Scene I

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A Dove flying in some mysterious but beautiful place ( First Person – Dove )

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O’ mother, thank you,

soothing plains, blissful green woods,

wonderful is world.

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pristine, agile winds,

lift mine spirits to heavens,

wings hardly matter (for spirit).

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angelic white, mine

plumage, how many hearts changed,

chose peace over battle?

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Scene II

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A cruel king came for hunting Stag ( First Person – King )

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( Addresses the Stag )

mine aim wavers not,

arrow tip bellows thy end,

royal dish, thine flesh!

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( Suddenly he sees the dove above )

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elegant beauty,

she’s mine, on royal platter,

arrow aims high now,

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( Addresses the Dove now )

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O’ dove, thee is mine,

die proud as regal king’s food,

death be upon thee!

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( He leaves the Stag and loosens the arrow at the dove and she is hit )

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Ha Ha! King I am,

no being eludes arrows,

Dove slayer king, me.

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Scene III – Act I

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A man sees the dove being hit by the arrow and runs to the fallen bird ( First Person – Man )

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O’ mine friend, tell who

hath brought this upon thee –

my sword rages in anger.

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O’ mine friend, beauty,

leave this world not, breathe please, love,

god needn’t have you.

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don’t shut eyes;

O’ blind god, why her;

love, love, friend!

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The Dove speaks to the man  and at the same time,the cruel king reaches a point where he can hear her speak, he stops and listens ( First Person – Dove )

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O’ kind friend of mine,

thy love for nature pleases

it is time i rest.

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promise, little one,

that thy sword tastes no blood, to

avenge mine that spilled,

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shed blood never, Friend,

keep peace, alive or dead; world

needs peace, give it and……………………………

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( Dove breathes no more )

( King  comes out of the bushes, the friend of Dove speaks )

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My King,  great hunter,

none can match your skills, no one

in your whole kingdom!

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My King, what justice,

do you serve, your cruelty

is the crown you wear!

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Hadst she not asked peace,

(i) shan’t think twice, i’l behead thee,

my foot on thy crown!

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( The king speaks )

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O’ grieving friend of  Dove,

i lay down my crown and sword,

i repent mine wrongs

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O’ trustful friend of Dove,

ascend mine throne, give peace then

kingdom needs her, peace.

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O’ true friend of Dove,

forgive ,  i will show myself

to no eyes again.

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( The king goes into the wilderness in repentance and to keep the kingdom running, Dove’s friend ascends the throne.

He speaks : )

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every battle now,

that we shall be part, be for

peace, not blood or pride .

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every battalion,

shall bear white flag, symbol peace,

remembering dove.

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Tweet me at @sankarajayanth

I don’t know why, when i saw the prompt the first thing to come to mind was “alive or dead, peace.”.
maybe due the ever eluding peace, for which runs a daily quest for me and that my tired mind and soul longs for a piece of it.
And peace = dove, as many things i relate to nature. And i thought of presenting it this way.

And later when i was half way through, i remembered a childhood story : hunter kills a pigeon but the pigeon’s wife gives shelter to hunter,
to satisfy and do justice to the dharma of comforting the guests, she jumps into flames to become the food for the guest.
My story, i think, was almost the same. So, i thank that childhood story and whoever wrote it.

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Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku.

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘alive’.

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She Sells Shells – Haiku #24

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dreams big and hopes high,

she sells sea shells on seashore,

buy one, help her smile

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a haiku inspired by the famous tongue twister “she sells sea shells on the sea shore”

can’t get it right once, not once 😀 :O

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Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku. 

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘seashore’.

Life And Wheels Moved On – Haiku #45

This post is submitted at Haiku Heights. The prompt is ‘mask’.

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you see me not love (dear);
help comes; heals wounds; i wear mask
named humility.

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far away you went;
still wondering who it was;
life and wheels moved on.

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distance grew much now;
same humility hinders;
from seeking your love.

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love is not to ask;
but to give away; like blood,
from mother to child.

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hope filled eyes; i wait;
will your ever see through the mask;
forces act against.

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( The below is the text from which i framed the haiku. I couldn’t put in everything in Haiku. So, read on if you like to. It’s long though, don’t say i din’t warn you. )

while he dared, i cared.

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express,
but none sees it, just because there was an absence of my expression,

so, if boldness weighs more than love, care, faith and hope,
then yes, i was a loser right from the first moment,
the moment when i chose to hold back,
knowing too well what it takes and what it gives me.

one day hardly goes by,
with this question not torturing my mind,
“don’t you see this yet?”,
yet and again, i hold back from asking this loud.

why, ask me “why?”,
i might just yet stay mum, for the answer i have for you will stump you.
so, instead i choose to see you hurt because of my silence, than because of my answer,
i choose to see you hurt less while i still have the option.

but as no question should go unanswered,
i would give you these words,

“let your heart be honest with your eyes and with itself”

now go,
the journey is yours to travel,
the answers are your to unravel.

the journey would still end at where i am,
the answers still leave a part of the question untouched,
“why did you stay silent when you had so much love?”,

that, my love, shall be answered after you complete the journey,
the reason for making you search for the answer yourself is to prepare you,
for the eventual leash of my held back love.

a little apprehension lingers deep down though,
time is a thin thread, that i am playing by,
i fear i might not radiate and transfer enough reason into you so that you don’t give up on the journey that i put you to,
i fear, time might crop doubts in your head,
and if you submit to them, you would be convinced that i was a fool,
and you would distance yourself from me.

but doesn’t truth always win, as told by the meandering bards,
that’s one gamble i took.

now we go to where this started,
what it took to take this gamble, that might leave me with nothing if it went wrong.

my love,

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express.

Oh wait,
didn’t i tell you that i would go along with you through the journey, masked in a cloak of invisibility?
oh sure i din’t, because the quest for truth is one you should not skip,
though i knew it would impress you if i told i was coming along,
and it would raise my stature up a notch at your heart,
but i choose to hide my presence and lose a chance to have you love me.
but this journey is not about me, this is about you,
and that along with my enormous care is reason enough for me to wear the cloak of invisibility, in humility,
and walk along.

Oh darn!
while he dared, i cared.

that’s all i need you to see.
that’s all i need you to learn.

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What Are They Called, Good Old Times? (Poetry)

what are they called, good old times? or what!

what is this feeling of yearn for those times to be back called, love? or death!

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why have the tides been so harsh, forcing us to wave goodbyes, what is it called, world’s hate? or our fate!

why has the autumn been so kind, not taking us with the fallen leaves; leaving us with hurting hope, what is this called, a ill curse? or a patience-testing boon!

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why has the wind taken side of the foul mouths, when the air around us is purged with pure feelings for one another; what is this called, unfair? or who-cares-about-the-true-ones!

and why does this world act as if it owns my heart and mind, asking for attention to routines all the time, trying to kill my memories of you; what is this called, healing? or murdering!

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what are they called, good old times? or what!

what is this feeling of yearn for those times to be back called, love? or death!

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the other POV is considering “WE” as “the present you” and “the childhood you(innocent)”. read again.

 

Devastating False Positives

A zero is better than a false positive.

when I am devastated and nothing is going my way, and will seemingly not(as you will come to read); one small moment that hints at ‘a turn of events’ in favor of me will raise my hope so high, unaware of the eventuality of the nature of fate, that, when I come to know that it was just a false positive, and that the truth is that nothing is still going my way, I would be but double devastated.

A zero is better than a false positive. Less devastated is better than devastated-devastated.

click for high resolution image

With Tears, But Without Fear

wielding words in a kindle fire,

kept alive by hope, as wings took it only higher.

hammered on the anvil of trust, respect and desire,

feathery weapon of love grew mightier, yet stayed tender.

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invisible sparks of pain pounced upon everything around,

caught and embraced by the timeworn carpet,

under which were waning memories, of time now and beyond,

fate made me but a puppet.

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so huge the fire,

it threatened to ash away all that is dear,

my own death denied me coming anywhere near,

the wielded words, the feathery weapon of love, the anvil of trust and desire;

they all let me embrace destiny, with tears but without fear.

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Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

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Time’s Whip On Our Backs!

O’ swaying leaves,
thy easing breeze,
will there be any innocence left in the air?

O’ singing swallow,
thy soothing melody,
will there be any peace left, on land?

O’ undulating ganga,
thy liberating waters,
will there be any being left, unexploited underwater?

O’ majestic nature,
thy motherly arms,
will there be a stone left, that was not thrown to hurt others?

O’ me,
thy concerned eyes,
will there be any soul left in them, when all hope and trust is broken?

O’ time,
thy gamble with chance,
will there be a life left, that has not taken your whip on its back?

Humans And Other Animals – Haiku #46

Written for Three Worded Wednesday
prompts : Dampen, Keep, Tremble
i chose to write in Haiku .

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once clouds grew angry;
roared and fired thunders of rage;
shrill trembles shook earth.

oceans nearby sang,
a similar song; harsh rains,
dampened rich harvests.

all treated equal;
humans, other animals;
nature keeps records.

hints look harsh;
put trust in nature;
our mother.

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Mother’s Day, Just Another Day

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Click the image for high resolution, my blog template doesn’t allow larger images than this on the post.

Click the image for high resolution, my blog template doesn’t allow larger images than this on the post.

The Scarlet Bond

crimson bushes conjure spells;
hold me tender is their call;

spell bound;
reckless hands get the scarlet wrath;
tender hands get the scarlet fragrance;

i would say;
you could be a little more cautious (in life);
is the message you try to teach.

where from did you learn this art;
of filling heart;
with black and white;
in equal parts;

you spill black, when i finally am settling in the too bright white;
you paint white, when i eventually start seeing solace in the dark black;
why these unbearable swings of torment;
why not paint me scarlet once and for all;
so that,
i fly away with white wings,
into the black void,
breaking bond with the scarlet forever.

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This poem is written for One Single Impression. The prompt for the week is ‘crimson’.

Grace, Then Void – Haiku #44

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eyes meet swift;
turning away brisk;
grace, then void.

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grace, then void;
millionth of tick;
heart beats skip.

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hear beats skip;
words wrestle inside;
“goodbye, love”.

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Submitted at Haiku My Heart.

Heart Traps Light – Haiku #43

Shadowy Heart

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heart traps light;
contours no measure;
shadowy wings.

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This is a post for Shadow Shot Sunday 2

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Glamour Carries Gloom (Poetry, Photography)

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glamour carries gloom,
world sees only what is abloom,
plenty endured, millions fell
even before color pigmented.

rest while you can, they say,
how can i, while my heart is battered hard and sulks in dismay,
i wander to share their pain,
of all those buds and leaves.

Gone Before The First Blush

Broken and Brown

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while even then, no one cares,
broken and brown, no wind dares
to sway them away from under their mother,
there lie their graceful graves.

tears trickle down my face, boon or bane,
while new buds grow plum, memories of the fallen wane,
in my melancholy hides a tale,
of a depressed heart that hides its name.

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the backdrop sets to both nature and also human relations. Of course, they are hardly different!
click the images for larger view.

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This poem is written for One Single Impression. The prompt for the week is ‘depression’.

Gulp, Spit or Die – Haiku #42

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( This post is more about what i wrote after the poem, not the poem itself. So, read it if you have time and patience.Thank you. )

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the anaconda,

gulps large buffalo, one go;

with full conviction.

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little piece of truth,

hard to take in; chokes life out;

gulp or spit or die.

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truth comes, evil hours;

don’t compromise it; fear is

death; truth is breath; choose.

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Truth, of any form and of any magnitude is like food. We take it into our mouth, when it is on its way to the stomach, through the trachea, it is not the time to think if it tastes good or not. You either have to gulp it down fully or throw it up outside. Letting it live there in the middle will only makes us choke. to near death, most of the time.

You spit it out – no harm done, you will starve but live.
You gulp it down – well, good you will live. bitter or sour.

But taking the truth only half is instant death. Of your mind’s peace and of your heart’s easy beats. Your mind, just after being introduced to truth, becomes the battlefield for a battle between “what wants to get in” and “what you want to let in”. In that not-so-friendly battle, many compromise on truth.

And moreover, until you bite the truth, your soul is still starving. Live a 1000 years, unless you take in the truth, you would end up as someone who starved his own soul. for what, a 1000 years? And let me tell you, if there is one food that would make some one weak, it is truth. This naked fear of knowing before hand that truth is a bitter apple is what drives people to push it into the dark, under the bed.

Ask what does truth mean?
It is the wilderness that lies beyond the boundary around our world of “what we want”. It is called “what it is”.

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This post is an entry for the weekly prompt at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘Hour’.

Patient Symphonies – Haiku #41

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Patient Symphonies

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roses in diary,

i hid; dried fragrance flies out;

tears, wet melody.

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tears, wet melody;

time reveals you my story,

patient symphonies.

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This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘melody’.