someone’s knocking

for carry on tuesday and for read write poem

“is there anybody there?”
said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit
door.

“let me in,
let me be a part of
your your world,
i wont promise i’d be here for long
but i’ll do my best to
stay for as long as you need me.”
he continued
all the while knocking
on the moonlit door.

“you’ll need the child in me
something you know
you shun away from you,
a long time ago.
you need some variation
off your busy, running,
pressured life,
so tell me please
you’ll let me in, let me
be inside.”
the Traveller said as he
knocks on the moonlit door.

“is there anybody there?”
said the Traveller
Knocking on the moonlit
door.

for read write poem

for read write poem with the opposite prompt. i wrote the same way as i did last year.

you gave yourself away
got lost within the world you built
tasting still the edge-
while holding on to your bruised heart;
of love gone out of hand
trying to pick up the pieces,
as you reminisce
the years of forever now out of sight;
those smiles, his scent, his laugh;
the broken promises.
remember how you justify
your existence,nothing but a blur
the life you lived for him
wishing, hoping for another chance
will you ever forget
without all the pain, disappointments;
the look in his eyes
telling you everything without a word
baring his soul for you to keep
goodbyes wasn’t necessary
the love,
nothing left, just respect
those eyes…
without any love…

curtain’s closed…

clothes piled up,
can pass as an artist’s mosaic
against the coldness
of the muted witness
silently watching
from the moment
you torn down the fence
i was half heartily put up
against you
to guard me…
up to time
granular sweats
filled us with sublime sensation
scorching me..
consuming me.

the glaze of the table
mirrored my anticipation
for this full moon not to end.
i turned my gaze towards you
and willfully smiled,
touching my lips
savoring
remembering the moist
mouth of yours
as i close my eyes
thinking how i kissed you
back with much fervor…

such an affair…

i slither my way back
to the empty side of the bed
felt you move,
your arms fitting perfectly
to my warm body,
but knowing any moment
this magic will be forgotten
i slowly, painfully
take your hand off
as if i am to excrete
dried leaf from
one lovely bouquet,
as if i carve one part
of the fruit off
to give way to a
lovely piece of art.

i left the stage,
finished the show
with soundless goodbye
and tormented heart.

selfish…

for readwritepoem, this is the original poem, from last year, selfish …to be honest, i don’t know if i made it better, since i just add few lines…
also for threewordwednesday words are cryptic, flash, malign

can’t you feel the tears
can’t you see the pain,
can’t you ever hear
the roaring of my heart
trying to get in
to where i used to reside.
can’t you understand
the flash and flicker
of agony in my blood-shot eyes?

don’t you recognize
the soul that’s been
uneasy yet never
get tired until
you take her
as your own?

have you forgotten
the smell of fear
that’s living
in each and every hole
of my skin.
how easy for you to
forget the cryptic sighs,
the forced smile,
the reaching hands
wanting, longing
for you to take…

how would you call this?
this malign thing?
selfishness? maybe..
since I’ve forgotten
how to call myself, myself
without you
as the other half of
my so-called me.

picture

this heaven i am holding
is slipping away
he’s slowly inching away
from my grasp
and i cannot do anything
but watch him.

“let me breath
on my own.”
“will it make you happier?
will you be strong enough
without the roof of my protection?”
“i’ll be fine.”
“you can’t stop me to be worried.”
“i understand. i love you too, mom.”

standing here,
watching my baby
reaching for the hands
of his lovely bride,
i silently cried.

he smiled.
gave me a wink.
as the ceremony ends
the image of my little boy fades
and the picture of one
loving man, with the presence of
his beautiful wife emerge.