Thursday, January 28, 2016

In my dreams

Dreams are something I have started believing in lately. Each night there is a new dream, some believable, some unbelievable, some scary and some inspiring as well. It's like a reel which starts involuntarily, induced somewhere from the unconscious state of mind. I shared my dreams with a few friends and it was quite interesting to know their dreams, in return. A good friend of mine who believes that ''Dreams are gates to territories that are not explored'' suggested me to start a journal in order to keep a record. I did so and it's satisfying to fill page after page. The most interesting one which I had seen recently had a message. A quote!  ''Books are not divergent because they flirt with each other''  
Make sense?

It's been a long time since I composed a poem. Here's a try of shaping a dream into a poetry.

She closed her eyes 
to open the lock tonight
of another dream door
which awaits her to cite
an unseen story, foretold 

She steps into a bookstore
with a little pocket money
and a bundle of hope 
''The Secret'' at a cheap price 
She moves around in rejoice 
Of having a ''wanted'' book

The realm of dream breaks...

As she wakes up; euphoric 
slowly, realizing the gist 
It tempts her to unfold
the landscapes covered in mist
She goes through online stores
and other bookstores in vicinity 

It seems destiny has a way 
with its believers...
A friend of her gifts her, the book
As if she read her mind and;
heard her wish.
Dreams do come true
They have You.

Written for A Week for Writing - In your dreams

Saturday, January 09, 2016

Dry grass

Eager birds chirrup biding a goodbye
As setting of the sun embarks
At the horizon meets the sky and the earth
It all seem so serene and stark

Walls painted in rattan beize
decorated with frames and oil paintings
A blue palazzo pant and a red top lies on her bed
with a watch, hand bag and big earrings

She sits there, just before a window
Relentlessly, looking outside
And suddenly the rooster clock buzz, frenzy
  She realize it has been days since she cried

Tears trickle down her cheeks 
For she know, another day is about to pass
and the fate will guzzle her with woes
life sans love and friendship is a dry grass