Escape

Photo by Blair Fraser on Unsplash

The picture was all over the news – plane with about 300+ people aboard crashed in the middle of nowhere, a few minutes before landing.
Anu looked at the images, a dazed look in her eyes.
Their last conversation kept flashing before her eyes – they had argued about the way to handle the current mess.
“I do not want to run, Anu. We can not run away forever, can we?”, he had almost begged her to stay with him.
And she had, she had been sitting outside the airport as the plane left and later crashed.
She was glad she did not meet this fate, this kind of escape from life.

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Inspired by Sunday Photo Fiction (image) and Six Sentence Story (word: escape)

Path to freedom

She remembered the first time she walked this path. In the middle of nowhere, she had randomly stopped at this field and taken a walk on the dusty road. She had truly felt free in that moment. She had escaped a bad relationship, an exhausting job, and struggles with ideas of self-value.

CCC#35

This path had beckoned to her mad desire to be break free from everything and everyone. She had returned to this place every year since the first time.

But today, She was not alone. She had no desire to walk the road to feel free. She had found the anchor to her desires and the wind to her flight in him. Soon she would walk the aisle with him.

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Inspired by Reena’s exploration challenge #95 (Eleutheromania – intense desire for freedom) and Crimson’s Creative Challenge #35 (Image prompt)

Outsider

Photo by Lisa Fotios @ Pexels.com
Photo by Lisa Fotios @ Pexels.com

They were lost in the conversation, whatever, or whoever, it was about.

He was curious to know, but he knew better than to ask.

He had learned this part of hanging out with the ladies from early on – He was good to be passed the secret recipes, but not other’s secrets. Not yet.

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Written for Twittering Tales #144 (Photo prompt / Write a story in 280 character or less)

I thought of you

1. You

I thought only of you.

I thought of you when mornings happened late.
I thought of you when nights refused to calm down.
I thought of you when the meals went untouched.
I thought of you when clothes remained a mess.
I thought of you when the balcony plant got flowers.
I thought of you when the snow became thing of the past.

I thought only of you.

I thought of you when no words came out of my pen.
I thought of you when favorite songs felt strange.
I thought of you when poetry became harder to tell
I thought of you when stories of new lands failed.
I thought of you when art gave no solace to my soul.
I thought of you when the skies offered no place to go.

2. I

I
did not feel
the same, more like a
new neighbor exchanging
hello, over tea and cookies;
Day by day I paled
trying to add you
(your thoughts and memories)
to the heart that was all yours;
overflowing with you
I floated and sank
between reality and my wants
to have you;
only YOU.

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Written for –

This poem is written as a response to write a poem of at least two multi-stanza cantos, using the styles found in She Had Some Horses by Joy Harjo

Where the path leads

I only follow the trees. I walk where the path leads me, away from the noises of the traffic, into the forest bordering the busy roads.  The little bridges become my resting stops – taking in the surrounding peace, the music of the water passing below me, the occasional kid on the bike ringing his bell to warn the walkers. I often walk with music plugged in my ears but not when I enter such trails. these trails demand the respect and attention that we humans have stopped paying to nature, not without consequences though.  So I walk; different days, different colors, different company but a single thought – I am blessed to be finally able to appreciate the beauty and the uses of being surrounded by nature. 

holding hands, together
not knowing where the path led
love made me see stars

 

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Inspired by Crimson’s Creative Challenge#34 and linked to Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Poetry challenge

 

The Muse

It did not surprise me anymore, this struggle between holding on and letting go. It has started recently, but I had felt myself giving it more thought with every stroke. It was his doing; I wanted to scream but did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could provoke me.

I stepped back to look at the painting.

Earlier, I was bolder in colors and the grandness of the scenes, while he taught me to add the details. The muse had become the teacher I was not ready to please. He still demanded it all.

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Prompted @ Carrot Ranch [ Flash fiction Challenge in exactly 99 words – Paint ]

A scene from daily life

Try painting a picture with words-
show, not tell how you feel.
The intimacy of daily life,
the transient thoughts that
never are recorded formally;

A foggy evening with absolute silence,
suspense in the air
a hot cup of chocolate in your hands –

how will that appeal to you?
How will you feel in this setting?

me? I am on top of the world-
and literally, I am.
In my high rise apartment building –
it is as lonely and beautiful.

Almost Idyll, perhaps.

 

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This poem was inspired by the Weekend Writing Prompt (word – Idyll | length limit – 84 words)
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Family

The reason I think of him is that my mother mentioned that it is his death anniversary today. Years of looking at the black and white photo in our home, with a dry flower garland around it most days, I never realized the date. The year, I remembered – from the moment I could connect that the year on the photo was also the year I was born in.

The reason I mentioned him today was another relative being in similar pain, I heard he was before he died – he had oral cancer. My mother tells me about the days he would moan in pain and there was nothing anyone could do. There were not enough pain killers 30 years back. Nor was there any cure for him.

I do not know him enough. Just that he was a really good father, a simple honest man who died in pain, but content to see his family around him. My grandfather never saw the majority of kids of my generation in the family but my grandmother was sure, he picked us all before we left heaven to arrive on the earth.

the fading memories
walking through unknown trails
circling family lines

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Haibun for Dverse Poets

<musings of a healing soul and a warrior of words>