Distance

                         Pic Courtesy : http://www.flickr.com/photos/joel_r/8538713642/lightbox/

You might wonder, why I keep writing you poems 

Day after day,

one after the other.

A belief, word by word,

a sentence would travel the miles,

Unraveling a message of love.............

https://troumagazine.com/2020/08/11/distance-by-j-george/

Letters to You

               Image Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com/photos/47039528@N08/5316903185/


I want to write a hundred plus one letters for you to carry with, as you fly, the other month after the sun rises taking away this lock down and replenishing hope in every country I want you to take these breathings of mine along with you, in case you miss my night cream fragrance of comfrey and niacinamide tickling your nostrils, in case you miss.......

https://issuu.com/humankindzine/docs/issue_one_-_vulnerbility-compressed_compressed_com/100

Video Call

                             PC : http://conflictingheart.tumblr.com/image/46078469794

But, here we are,

exchanging love and words in Morse codes

via smiles and blinks, owing to this poor network,

that swings itself to death, 

with every wind that passes my home,

flushing the bougainvilleas and their

leaves to the floor for me to sweep.

https://issuu.com/initialjournal/docs/the_initial_journal_august_2020 page 6

Heredity

                                  pc : https://www.artandcommerce.com/artists/photographers/Richard-Burbridge/Portraits

 

The way a cracker fires up to the sky, and then blooms into scattered pieces of joy;

Like sprinkling water, is exactly how my father’s hand moves in hopelessness.

He raises his hands upwards, a little higher slowly,

and then throws his fingers from its closed bud, to the air opening up,

“Ohh…Onnulla” (Oh! Nothing) ,...

https://borderlessjournal.com/2020/07/14/heredity/

Pencil Shavings

                           pc : http://thisisnthappiness.com/post/75074331762/zoom-hyper-realism-of-romulo-celdran

Every evening I find the shavings of your eye brow pencil

near the dressing mirror,

along with some talcum on the floor;

Like tiny pleated skirts of dancers on white snow, they stay.

The sharpenings of your pencil, for darkening your eyebrows.

Shreds of oiled skins from frequent touching shed down,

for some newer beginnings with sharper goals.

Each evening before you, your pencil is ready

with the blunt past chiseled and the rawness of the moment ready,

like mother, every day before you with a cup of coffee,

brimming with hope, I believe.

And your willingness to change papa, I see,

you shove the pencil into the darkest spot of the shelf,

after shading those lines to thick eyebrows – a perfect illusion.

http://www.literaryshanghai.com/jgeorge-pencil-shavings/

On Fire

I call Eli Eli repeatedly from morning till night, my phone’s auto-correct changes her name to Elijah and so, like Christ on crucifix, I call out her name, my last hope, calling my sister for having food, I hear my father’s feet missing the floor like magnetic repulsion, a rebellious act from the floor, a shout-out, no more tolerant, these flames burning our little glass house; the fire has been eating our bricks, one by one since long and we learnt to live around it tending to the burns, making us more of christians forgiving for a living, a vengeance in disguise, the fire initiated by alcohol and a spark from kitchen, sometimes it’s someone switching on the light to cover up the darkness forgetting that there has been a gas leak, ever since alive, I wonder who named it love, their marriage; Ah! No. No, I don’t expect a miracle, to magically change the wine to water and save our lives, maybe it will rain with thunder and hurricanes, sirens to rehabilitation centers; how we have locked ourselves in this four walls calling it a home, despite being nailed to this crucifix, it’s April the summer colors have tanned the bougainvilleas pinned to hanging pots decorating this broken home like roses on the Easter crucifix where Jesus forget to resurrect and slept on for years, maybe it will rain and the flames will stop eating us, before it consumes us whole, while alive like a pyre.

https://llumierereview.wordpress.com/issue01/

Crocheting

On crocheting a happy content life, I could teach you Dear Chere,

you start first with the slip knot, yarns and hooks no procrastination!

Ah!  the patience and time would roll in,

chain many, the happy memories row after row

for that strong base, we need.

Skip the major vapid ones, for that unique design,

double and treble crochet the moments of unplanned memory bringing joy

stitch through the vapid skip, mending the pain, stitch through

swapping colours and adding more yarn of love.

Keep going the callow in a canto,

to crochet a happy content life, bejewel all journeys of fright and might,

and finish by tucking in the left over pieces,

cutting off that extra strings of trouble, 

finish off by tying securely the strings of bond.

keep crocheting for that happy content life,  mon chere..

https://issuu.com/storiedstitches/docs/storied_stitches_vol_9_issuu