MyselfMyself
I stood there like a lifeless lighthouse
Ashore the vast and furious ocean
Beckoned by the turquoise potion
Which I chose to not drink and drowse
I looked back to find myself
Once a beacon of hope and mirth
To the lost wanderers of the earth
Now I feel dragged down by a dark elf
I stood there amid the starless sky
With no company but bitter thoughts
Where I kept untangling the knots
Of my unburied past with a deep sigh
I look forward to find myself
A rekindled flame, never to waver
Never to die out, burning forever
An illuminated soul and rejuvenated self.
#poem #review #Florence
I stood there like a lifeless lighthouse
Ashore the vast and furious ocean
Beckoned by the turquoise potion
Which I chose to not drink and drowse
I looked back to find myself
Once a beacon of hope and mirth
To the lost wanderers of the earth
Now I feel dragged down by a dark elf
I stood there amid the starless sky
With no company but bitter thoughts
Where I kept untangling the knots
Of my unburied past with a deep sigh
I look forward to find myself
A rekindled flame, never to waver
Never to die out, burning forever
An illuminated soul and rejuvenated self.
#poem #review #Florence
#shortstory#shortstory #review#review #Florence#Florence
A Little SquirrelA Little Squirrel
It was one of those days when you could find me on the balcony sitting cross-legged on a chair, occasionally tapping my head with a pen and, of course, with an empty mind and an empty page. You could see me gazing into the distance, trying to invoke my muse. Staring at the plain sky didn’t help. I looked around; not a soul in sight, not even the fluttering of a butterfly could be heard. I was hopelessly lost. Not that I’m a great writer experiencing a writer’s block but a novice whose writing skills are still in an embryonic stage. It seemed like everything in the universe was plotting against me.
“Ah, blame the universe now! You are always deprived of ideas. I have been waiting forever to see at least one word on that paper,” he quipped when I shared my thoughts. He is such a grinch, I must say. Here I am, trying to move heaven and earth and look at him, leaving me in the lurch.
“Hey, thanks! You are so supportive!” I frowned in dismay.
“Well, what’s with the negativity? Lift the veil of your eyes and glance around. Look into nature; you have everything you are looking for. Only you have to seek and find them. You should know that it won’t be plain sailing. Always remember that,” and he left.
He always tends to skedaddle every time after giving free advice because he hates to be in a situation where I pour every blame on him even if he does nothing.
I determined to look around for ideas to come and seek me. “Oh, no, it should be the other way around,” I reminded myself.
Right in front of the balcony was a jackfruit tree. Nature was bountiful enough to weigh it down with ample fruits. I noticed a little squirrel squeaking and scanning the tree before lying upside down, like a gymnast, on a ripened fruit and started feasting on it. The incessant screeching of the crickets could be heard from a distance as if they wouldn’t let the poor little squirrel have a peaceful meal. While my eyes were feasting on the squirrel feasting on the jackfruit, a giant squirrel jumped out of nowhere and scared the little one off, which was too chicken to start a fight. It climbed up, hid behind the leaves and waited for the big one to go back. Unfortunately, it had to wait forever to climb down and fill his tummy.
“Why didn’t he choose any other fruits as there were thousands of them? I don’t know. Why did the big one choose this fruit in particular while there were thousands of them? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?” returned he intending to taunt me. That’s when I realised that I was speaking aloud.
“Still staring at blank?” he continued.
I punched him in the hand and pulled him closer. I recounted the events to him. He chuckled, knowing that my only concern was about that one jackfruit that both the squirrels feasted upon and not how I overlooked his self will and also how the poor little one held his hunger till he could get hold of the fruit again.
“See, everyone is free to choose anything they like. And, I loved how it was resolute in holding on to the one he chose at first and how he remained calm even in adversities. What matters is he didn’t give up easily. We should learn from him,” explained he.
Exactly! Even though that thought didn’t cross my mind, I learnt a great lesson from that tiny creature. Feeling happy, I took my pen to write about the little squirrel.
A Little SquirrelA Little Squirrel
It was one of those days when you could find me on the balcony sitting cross-legged on a chair, occasionally tapping my head with a pen and, of course, with an empty mind and an empty page. You could see me gazing into the distance, trying to invoke my muse. Staring at the plain sky didn’t help. I looked around; not a soul in sight, not even the fluttering of a butterfly could be heard. I was hopelessly lost. Not that I’m a great writer experiencing a writer’s block but a novice whose writing skills are still in an embryonic stage. It seemed like everything in the universe was plotting against me.
“Ah, blame the universe now! You are always deprived of ideas. I have been waiting forever to see at least one word on that paper,” he quipped when I shared my thoughts. He is such a grinch, I must say. Here I am, trying to move heaven and earth and look at him, leaving me in the lurch.
“Hey, thanks! You are so supportive!” I frowned in dismay.
“Well, what’s with the negativity? Lift the veil of your eyes and glance around. Look into nature; you have everything you are looking for. Only you have to seek and find them. You should know that it won’t be plain sailing. Always remember that,” and he left.
He always tends to skedaddle every time after giving free advice because he hates to be in a situation where I pour every blame on him even if he does nothing.
I determined to look around for ideas to come and seek me. “Oh, no, it should be the other way around,” I reminded myself.
Right in front of the balcony was a jackfruit tree. Nature was bountiful enough to weigh it down with ample fruits. I noticed a little squirrel squeaking and scanning the tree before lying upside down, like a gymnast, on a ripened fruit and started feasting on it. The incessant screeching of the crickets could be heard from a distance as if they wouldn’t let the poor little squirrel have a peaceful meal. While my eyes were feasting on the squirrel feasting on the jackfruit, a giant squirrel jumped out of nowhere and scared the little one off, which was too chicken to start a fight. It climbed up, hid behind the leaves and waited for the big one to go back. Unfortunately, it had to wait forever to climb down and fill his tummy.
“Why didn’t he choose any other fruits as there were thousands of them? I don’t know. Why did the big one choose this fruit in particular while there were thousands of them? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?” returned he intending to taunt me. That’s when I realised that I was speaking aloud.
“Still staring at blank?” he continued.
I punched him in the hand and pulled him closer. I recounted the events to him. He chuckled, knowing that my only concern was about that one jackfruit that both the squirrels feasted upon and not how I overlooked his self will and also how the poor little one held his hunger till he could get hold of the fruit again.
“See, everyone is free to choose anything they like. And, I loved how it was resolute in holding on to the one he chose at first and how he remained calm even in adversities. What matters is he didn’t give up easily. We should learn from him,” explained he.
Exactly! Even though that thought didn’t cross my mind, I learnt a great lesson from that tiny creature. Feeling happy, I took my pen to write about the little squirrel.
DrizzlesIt’s drizzling
Over the half-furrowed field
A frog jumps, happy and thrilled.
It’s drizzling
On the leaves of dark green colour
An yellow bee feasts on a flower.
It’s drizzling
Over the lone banyan tree
A squirrel in the nest sits carefree.
It’s drizzling
on the brick-red rooftops
Two girls sing and dance in blue tops.
#poem #review #Florence