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”

Not a letter of Love

They took out their pens
And wrote on her body
Not a letter of love
But of lust
Her fragrance subdued
By flowing stinks of liquor
Her cries of pain muffled
By their lecherous jeers
Brains on their loins
They devastated a budding life
And when their inebriated selves
Left in search for their next conquest
Her shame her only companion
In a world where man will be man
And the powerful will rise
In righteous indignation to defend
Good names of the perpetrators
Victim she is not, asked for it
Others will say with a smirk
As if a rose bud
Resplendent in all of nature’s glory
Has the power to prevent one
From plucking her out of the tree
The letter of lust is for her to keep
In perpetual indignity

O thou pure of heart

No sin was committed
In the garden of Eden
What was pure
And natural
Was forever cursed
Banished from the garden
Carrying the blame of lust
O thou pure of heart
How thee lusted
In thy heart
For the forbidden fruit
And blamed the serpent
Letting God go scott free
One who created all
Must have created
Love and passion
And lust
The day
Darkness of our hearts
Clouded the sunshine
Of our minds
World became a
Dreary place to live
In our fear blemished life
We all have pains
that we carry unseen
Passing time
Fading memories
Lessen heartaches not
Blessed are those
With life a clean slate
Unburdened by the curse
They carry their secrets to
Their graves

Visit from the Autocorrect Ghost

Idea for this post came while commenting on a post from Ritu (butismileanyway). I read her post in bed and sent my comment.  As I was getting out from bed, I panicked.  Did the ghost of autocorrect took over my comment.  What a disaster that would be.

Rest assured I was texting
Not sexting
Enjoying the lush read Continue reading “Visit from the Autocorrect Ghost”

Door closed for the last time

‘The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,’ —W.B. Yeats

The door closed for the last time
The old occupant had left
No light will be shining today
The hushed voices, furtive exchanges
Business transacted in darkness
Comings and goings at odd hours
Night owls were they
All will cease momentarily
Resistance was futile
Free will broken and subdued
Tears ran dry long ago
Scant cover of modesty
Snatched and thrown away
Colorful dresses just an allure
Before being routinely disrobed
First time the door slammed shut
Rainbow had vanished
Somewhere over the roof
Sky hidden by darkness
No rainbows shined today
Under cover of the whitesheet
Closed eyes could not see
Tears  running down from the sky
Perhaps appropriately
Last journey under a
Canopy of dark clouds
A life lived hiding
Behind closed doors
Dim lights unable to lift
Perpetual veil of darkness
Left that all behind
On a starless night
None left to weep
Behind closed doors, mourners
Busy selling their wares
They have to survive
Till their call comes
Somewhere a new occupant
Being prepared
To satisfy animal lust
The door will open soon
For innocence to be lost forever


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

Cursed forever to a life wronged

‘Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna’s children died.’  – W.B. Yeats

Thou shalt bear the fruit of love
Thous shalt bear the fruit of passion
Thou shalt bear the fruit of lust
Thou shalt bear the fruit of the demon
Thou shalt bear the fruit of rape
Thou shalt bear the fruit of incest
Gave her the boon of motherhood
And the strength to bear the pain
Took away her freedom, freedom of choice
One that cursed her forever to a life wronged
Must be the One created by man


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

 

 

Lady of the Night: Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #161 Painted & Lady

Vibrant butterfly
Nature’s dainty painting shines
She will be lady

*****
Lady in waiting
Men’s loathsome  lust kill her dreams
Painted the town red

*****
Darkness now reigns her life
Painted face hides scars of lust
Lady of the night


Ronovan’s weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge : Painted & Lady