Wildflower

Patches of lush green grasses adorned with wildflowers been growing steadily by the roadside that I normally take for walking my dog in the morning. Lawns in the neighborhood are immaculately manicured.  However during the stay-at-home, no one seems to be bothered by the steadily growing patch of grass.  Some places it is near knee high.  Everyday during my walk I am blessed with blooming wildflowers hidden between the grass.  A few adventurous ones have poked their heads above the ground.  They are just beautiful.  I happened to photograph one today morning.  Google lens identified it as Salsify / Tragopogon porrifolius, a plant cultivated for its ornamental flowers and edible root. It also grows wildly in many places.  Normally I would take a photo and share it with my social groups and that’s pretty much the end of the story. However after I took this photo today morning, the sheer beauty of the flower and perhaps the morning sunlight bathing the patch of wildflowers was constantly urging me to write something.  So here it is.  

Spare me your touch, the
Roving eyes,
Lust in your heart;
Banish the thought of
Picking me up,

Continue reading “Wildflower”

Standing up to injustice is the only solution

‘That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.’ —W.B. Yeats

The roads are littered with gold, they said
Hard work and belief in oneself if one possess
Enough to make a new life, they merrily proclaimed
Come one and come all, we will all progress

El Dorado it was not, didn’t matter to folks
A hard working lot, they not afraid to work
Melting pot of civilizations, they wrote the songs
Built roads to carry produce, beef and pork

New immigrants not like us, they say it’s wrong
Coming in hordes stealing our jobs and bread
Something is rotting in heaven, stench is strong
Skeletons brushed under the rug poking their head

Time to stand up, trouble brewing in the horizon
Standing up to injustice is the only solution


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Thirteen

 

 

Tears beneath the Glare:Three Line Tales, Week 79


photo by Arnaud Mesureur via Unsplash

Glare of the bright lights and hoorahs mask the pain and tears behind masochistic mask
Modern day gladiators march on to their untimely demise for the pot of gold
While emperors play the fiddle paying lip services to cavernous greed of the proletariat


ThreeLineTales: Week 79

Winning is not Everything: Week 23 of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with “W”

The past week had been quite hectic.  Arrangements for the travel and office work took all the time I had and could not spare much time for reading and writing.  It was supposed to be a vacation but ended up with long days stretching far into the nights. As a result, I had very little sleep and yesterday morning when I drove from the airport straight to office, I felt like a zombie. Those long nights were not by compulsion but by choice. There lies the difference between work and fun, I think.  After long three years, our family was vacationing together. Though a lot of time was spent on socializing, meeting old friends after several decades and making new acquaintances, at the end of the day when we closed the door to our hotel room or our rented AirBnB, we five were alone together till the start of the activities next day. And that was bliss. Alas, I had to come back early due to my work commitments while the family stayed back for a few more days.

By this time, dear readers, you may be scratching your heads what all these had to do with the title of my post.In today’s competitive world where people are taught from their early childhood  that winning is everything and being second best has no value, my title must be counter intuitive.  During the past few days, amidst all the activities of attending a socio-cultural get together of people of my home state from the old country and trying to squeeze in some sightseeing, I still had time to write a few poems. It was only possible because my mind was at peace. The stress level was at bare minimum even with lack of sleep. As I was flying back to my home town, in the quiet of a plane full of sleeping fellow travellers taking the early morning flight and between fits of dozing off and awakening, I had a dream.  I dreamt of King Midas and his golden touch. When he ultimately realized his dream of turning anything that he touched to gold, he also lost all his happiness. To be able to touch, hug, smell and eat like a normal person, without turning everything to gold, he ultimately begged for the curse to be taken away from him.  Only when he lost his happiness did he realize that all that glitters is not gold. Hope all of us realize this sooner or later in our life without going through the agony of seeing our beloveds turning to gold or stone or hardened by our relentless pursuit of winning at all cost, pushing everything else to the backburner.

This brings me the word of my poem starting with the letter “W” for week twenty three of my fifty two weeks  journey with “W” – winning. Need to win this battle of writing a poem starting with winning in next hour and fifteen minutes before Wednesday rolls over to Thursday. So bye for today till we meet next Wednesday.


This post is in response to Write Anything Wednesday-July-6-2016 sponsored by Writerish Ramblings

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