"Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “(un)pack.” Use “pack” or its opposite in your post." Unleash the passion, Unpack the dreams, Unlock the desires, Unplug those cloistered feelings, Uninstall the tedious, Unsubstantiate the trivia, Unchoreograph the the wrong moves, Usher in the joy, Unbraid the knots, Unclutter your life, Uninhibit your inner… Continue reading The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Feb. 8/2020
Buried under sands, That were dreary and wind blown A jewelled hand springs. Distant blue its own, Deluged by the sandy surf, It still stayed afloat. .
The power of pink, A cynosure so brazen, Yet love radiates. A very Happy Women's Day to all of you. A salute to the Pink Brigade.
My heart, They peer into And see the hues that bleed, And incandescent hope undimmed, I shine.
This is in response to the prompt by Patricia @ https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/10919228/posts/2137239039 "Dancing to the tunes of destiny, She pirouetted to fame, The decibels rose and fell, Still she danced to rythm of life, Impervious to the cacophony around ."
When that cauldron overflows, Surging, The vent bursts open, Spewing out the simmering lava, Burning with its latent heat, Stoked over years. It just flows, Overwhelming, Consuming, Reckless of what comes on its way. It wants to break free, The volcanic dam unshackled. It just flows, Meandering down unknown slopes. It does not know, What… Continue reading It just flows
Hoping against hope, Fighting her life's stormy tides, She anchored future.
Something dear, Something close, It leaves you, It vanishes suddenly. And you, Left bereft, Trying to fathom, What you lost, Will it ever resurrect? The void remains, As you reminisce, Tears roll, But to no suffice.
As I stand at the cusp, I pause and think. What had gone by, Its kaleidoscope whirred in mind's eye. Those buried dreams,those inane desires, Those silly joys, Long gone and dead, Now get a whiff of life, Make tarried movements, As they rouse from their hoary slumber. I reminisce our camaraderie, How we wove… Continue reading If tomorrow will come
Torment, A perverse joy, A vitriolic jibe, A trail of boundless agony, I smile.