[Cafe Writing March April Project : http://www.cafewriting.com/2009/03/marchapril-2009-project-in-the-garden/ Option One : Poetry Weather means more when you have a garden. There’s nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans. ~Marcelene Cox Using the quotation above as your inspiration, write a poem (any form is fine) about weather meaning more. ] [Photo By : wGGta on Flickr] S plattery Splat Splattery Spalt, The rain drops drummed on the window pane. The sun and clouds in mortal fight, No Longer scorched the soil remains. Croakery Croak Croakery Croak, the big green frog in my garden cries. Pussycat dear from his noon nap woke, the time is here to mince more mice. Rickety Rock Rickety rock, Under my burden the wooden chair grunts. And a mug of cream and coffee thick, Would you wish or anymore want? Screakery Squeak Screakery Squeak, I hear the hinge on the farmhouse door. A howling wind unab...
Photo By h-k-d T he night was new. I walked out of the air conditioned hotel lobby. A blast of hot air caught my face.The air was annoyingly warm. I ran a hand through my hair as I waited admist the shimmering lights of Chennai's traffic for an auto. Chennai - the city where you get ripped by the autowallah's, fried by the sun and interrogated by foriegners. But I was happy. The interrogation was a success and I had been granted a Visa to the USA.
By pincel3d on deviant art An empty reflection in the mirror, Of Twenty and hundred pounds. I, the worthless wayside whore, Had her dreams for a day crowned. That moment was Chance's child, Whom Fate did father wrong. A day to spend, a night to dine, Nothing more - a request queerly odd. A day we spent in eternal bliss, A day together, forever remembered. Helios' chariots gave way for Selene's grace, He bid his fare and in the shadows retreated. Never made love in a way as such, Hearts embraced and flesh withdrawn. Never made love in a way as such, In Passion's triumph, lust overthrown. I know its strange And the feeling stranger. But I can't explain how I felt When I made love with the stranger. An empty reflection in the mirror, Of Twenty and hundred pounds. I, the worthless wayside whore, Had her dreams for a day crowned. [ I tried my best to capture a story i had in my mind as a short poem. I hope you guys got the story... :) . The title is in french ...
"thalathil ozukunna puzhayude olangal
ReplyDeletethalamethennariyathallanju poyi"
good..i liked this the most!
btw ee "theekanal" ninte trademarkanalle?
no comment
ReplyDeletehai rahul...
ReplyDeletenashta pranayanam undennu thonnunallo...anywayzzz nice poem...
by,
nithya