drifting

someone has sprinkled
crushed dried loaf on the bushes
whose crumbs the crows inspect
with much disdain incomparable
with those who are starving to death in a distant nation
these raven black birds
scrutinising with expressionless eyes
opened to the light its glassy acids,
squinting just as soon
search for moistness
to go with the crumbs

I am watching all this
my thoughts left to fend for themselves
just like messages left to set
adrift in ginger ale bottles
into the bottomless ocean

realisation hits me
it is not you who is away from me
it is me who chose this path
to be absent from you

The italized lines have been taken from poems by
Emily Dickinson
Maxine W. Kumin
Pablo Neruda
and again
Maxine W. Kumin,

changling-----Totally Optional Prompt/Patchwork Poetry

the distorted shell broke-
without the hardened, tough, exterior
yolk flowed out with no direction
changing into a yellowing flower
minus the sweet smell but a stink
my hand reached out to pick it
when the slimy wetness touched it
with repugnance, I drew back
A tiny bird flew out of my head
leaving me with the following thoughts
"untamed is the symmetry of our mind’s tigers"
these lonely days of blue
has resulted in a demented state
no wonder I had cut you with the bitter blades of what
I think, is deep hatred for your changling state

"the same state I had once proudly possessed in myself"

Patchwork Poetry done by taking lines from Paisley, lirone, lissa and writerwoman, in that order!

slithering snakes

strange hissing sounds
sure, had brought me here this night
sultry atmospheric feelings in my heart

as if tearing through barbed wire
my skin twitched
In every pore and every nerve.

withholding to the carved door
I strived for sanity even though
I was spinning- hard and fast-

snakes slithered at my feet
coming in hoards
from their opened underground caves

fearing the darkness, I fell on the doorstep
rolling into fetal position,
willing the reptiles away

"when daylight broke, I was entwined
by ropes of my own thoughts"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lines have been taken from Paisley, Mariacristina, Lirone, Writerwoman, and Lissa for Patchwork Poetry!

creatures of eerie night

In that eerie night, moonless and scary
lake reflected the dark sky, like a tapered glass
I could hear the scary sounds of rustling
moss, the kelp, the zebrafish, the very mice and flies, 
These tiny, humble, wordless things -- 
 how shall they tell us lies?
What had made me come here in the first place
walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
that too alone without a torch,
my heart was chilled, body so taut
sooner or later drown in the indigos of darkness, 
but now, for a while,the roughage
of fauna held my feet down,
my heartbeat could be heard a mile away
Invisible twines entangled me
can't you just imagine my predicament-
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs 
of deathly unknown creatures of the night giving
in to the panicky feeling I surrendered myself for the inevitable ending,
my head spinning, splitting apart.
Something fell heavy on my feet.
Jolted, I picked up my book.

"interestingly, I had become a character 
in that book I had been reading, in my bed"                   

This is offered for Totally optional prompts (Novel?) as well as patchwork poetry. Lines
have have taken from poetry by Catherine Faber, Federico Garcia Lorca, Mary Oliver and
Robert Frost,  in that order, and patched into it. Click on the links to read the whole poems.

mindplay---totally optional prompts/patchwork poetry

words, the play of words
have so much power, only if one lets those.
to give you credit, I handed it over on a platter
for you to feed on, seduced by what would be.
it is not a question that I need to ask you
whether or not I will make you immortal-
blame, who do I blame other than myself
for being so blind with open eyes.

I marched forward, not looking back
still running in a dead heat
which sapped my strength, pulling me down.
with my own hands, I noosed the double knot
of a tie around my bare neck, ending up only half dead
why is that pictures got blurred, where non existed?
meaning of mirage was never as clear as now-
shaking smoky fire out of my way, with new vision,

into a daybreak that's wondrously clear, I rise
absolving myself. redemption is not a mere word any longer.

This is offered for Totally optional prompts (smoke and mirrors) as well as patchwork poetry. Lines have have taken from poetry by Margaret Atwood, Keith Douglas, Carol Ann Duffy and Maya Angelou in that order, and patched into it.

jumping from the cliff to prove my love?

contemplating in the eerie silence of forest
where the occasional sound is that of the wilderness
all alone in my tent,
I am fighting for love
oh, don't worry I do not doubt yours for me.
in all that maze one of us has to be sane-
as you can't do it, I take the mantle.
my withdrawing to myself is not coldness. it is
compressing my love until I yearn to explode
to splinters, burning in passionate embrace.
explanations? you need platitudes? all I can say is-
it’s either fable or truth and that’s based on your perception.
don't you realise,
your movements have seduced me
to do what was incomprehensible before?
now that i did-
your mere words become a weapon
to hit at me. you with your insecurities
think that you do not deserve
my deep, intense emotions,
which in a way sustain me.
or else I am in a way of speaking-
mere breaths from dying.

"I will not bargain for love
either you accept it
or forget it altogether"

The italized lines are donated by jillypoet, lirone, scott, mariacristina, sara and paisley for patchwork poetry.

a remnant of violence staring out of nought

aren't you going to save those precious tears
falling on sidewalks in this rain
sparkling into thousands of pieces
before disintegrating into underground drains
muck in the sewage might trap those
soul of tears would split, stinking
cleansing away blood and gore
a remnant of violence staring out of nought
mythically disproportionate
to marauders plundering
numbness induced by shock
stroke the memories like a flame
dear editors, why would you even bother to look
over your mugs of black coffee tasting so sinful
you might as well let the saviour fall
plummeting between two towering rock mountains
splintering into thousand deaths
while you entertain the powers to be
indulging them for your selfish needs

The lines taken for patchwork poetry in the order from Mariacristina, paisley, sara and jillypoet.