Short story slam week 54: Rainbow Fish

            Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister

One day a colored fish flushed its wings

And asked me if I could enjoy freedom

Beneath the blue sky and in open vast air,

Just I made accounts of scraps of death tolls

On this earth and dust could be glorying

Those carcasses and I said amid gloaming

Sun-rays, I want to live with a little boy,

Who always thin, caught in cough and cold,

But fickle parents lived in another sphere,

And my old age and ailments cannot change

This account for living for betterment

And this little boy just carried letters of

Colored dreams and of peaceful heights

Of that world, that he never had in

Earth’s yearning, unless time can change

The written and rubble episodes of whispers

Of blood-soaked crescents, and at this time

I am searching a savior for the boy.

Days are not resemblance of decaying. 

THE SUBARNAREKHA

Water, it is sometimes reflective, sometimes it is destructive,

None of its nature does care for living, it moves with freedom,

While flowing in a river, or in water pipes, for human use, and

Life is still here, domiciled, or imagined staying of solvency.

In my last tour, you just carry sun-rays in your reflective swirls,

Boulder-road is built, silent wave thread, pedestrians moving

Alongside vehicles, river bed works as platform for road,

Water not making whirlpool, water makes whole decision for

Human being, it does not tilt basins, or break shore, peaceful,

In my today’s tour, you have built a chasing universe, stresses

Within water drive, along past-present asymmetry, and

It is always not to be seen, it is yours pattern, not in

Accordance with fanciful, radial pattern, and there is

A chiral revelation of water molecules, central growth,

It repeats in every rainy season, and it becomes more

Excited when water released from dams, to protect them,

Water, it is your transportation, I do not mix it with legend,

And the river does not leave from here; it does not make fossils,

Wave after wave, it transverses life, carrying certain

Capability to move us for living and doing something exciting

TRANSITION OF THE EARTH

While moving in a train, it comes to my view,

The front of hills, the front of greens,

The front of clouds, the sky is ready to take

Everyone in its review, the day is bright, playing

Hide and seek with sunlight, shadowy and sunny,

Visible with clarity, greeting cheers, forming

Day time dance, almost singing, birds flying,

Essence of freedom is full of sense and tense.

The day is full of caesura, lines of a verse

Window of the train becomes passage of the earth,

As if it is classic awakening, pretty wellness, arising

From the dark, we are responding with singing,

Cadence with time and travel, wondering scene,

Sprouting of joy and introduction of rain, forming

Fortune of pupil’s vigor, we are experiencing it.

This nature’s royal attire reinvented, priceless. 

WONDERFUL CLOUD

These clouds come out from the water of the earth,

They have thoroughfare, as programmed in air-path,

Tossed like tottered walks, yet firm with whitewash,

Making jewel of hovering water, quenching our thirst.

The blue has got the heart to hold them at far,

There they do move in freedom of mind we do search,

Here we upon the earth see their moment of purge

Forming water bubbles, to pour in ponds, tulip and 

Rivers and bodies of the earth, we see through window,

Falling of rain, daisies of life, that we soak in mind,

In dream of life, new life, dwell with founding terms,

Those we build in our source of diamond murmurs. 

Thursday Short Story Slam Week 29: DRAMAS AND FREEDOM

                                       Tropical Toxic Art Illustrated By Asaf and Tomer Hanuka

                                     Thursday Short Story Slam Week 29: Dramas and Freedom

On marching towards

Hundreds of ways of conflicts,

To the gates of war and death,

To the hate factor with songs,

Flowers are deemed humorous,

For a little longer, thinking of freedom,

Hope is there for different protests,

The image is bright, it is a drama. 

SPRING TIME, 2012

It the time of spring,

Of feeling love and sing,

Besides rice, bread, fish,

The daily wave of continuity,

And with this time

We all move in the sea

As if we are sojourners

In the life and love rides,

And here we enter the eternity,

That brings us life of happiness,

On the heart’s freedom

We like to move into meets,

With flowering beauty

In teens’ skirt and knees,

With hands sweet difference,

That fills sense and heart,

The life comes in

In the Bay of Bengal,

For traveling away from home,

A sweet place to live 

In life and in hearts’ meet,

In sun rises and in sun sets,

With veins in longing love,

With chirping of birds,

With tides of sea,

With blooms of flowers,

And we are rich

In love of divinity

And we thus hold happiness,

And peace in love, lovely moonlight.