irrelevant…

Is it irrelevant when she still insists for a divorce?

Is it so when he still shy away!

I am sorry; he said it a million times..

Faced with rejection a million times..

Down to the knees..no kindness in the night.

Eyes went dry in winter raining sky.

You are bountiful,,,useless.

Your skin is my paradise full of tress…

No more, those turned leaf less..

Generating sick mighty madness..

Surprisingly legitimate..

Changing your hair color, irrelevant.

Please me; hopeless.

Night’s curtain falls endlessly,

Blurred divorce images looms announcing the start of another journey.

 

 

 

 

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Hard, but worth it..

writing

”If you find that writing is hard, it’s because it is hard.”- William Zinsser.

Writing in English as a second language is extra harder. However, I enjoy it. It introduced me to new vocabularies. Loved the challenge to synchronize strange sentences; sometimes, that lead to generating unexpected prose.

I am grateful to you gorgeous guys out there who followed or visited my posts. Surely, you make my day.

 

Rotten

Spoiled by his mother’s intense care. She used to pamper him more than his younger brother who was the black duck in the family. When he reached sixteen he had a girl friend called Annie. Annie was from a different culture and beliefs. The mother opposed this forbidden relationship. Her son Alex heart was broken. He decided to leave the house.

On a small tissue paper, Alex wrote; Mum, I am so sorry for what I will say. I am now twenty-one and you still treat me like a seven years old boy. I am sorry, my life is now rotten, I am getting rid of snacks you forced me to have for long years. I need to be with Annie. She has a splendor eyes that crumbles my heart to see them. A feeling that I have long fancied and hided it away from you; I always hates to see your tears. Please wait for dad to come back home, he can explain my feelings. Mum, sorry to tell you that now I know that he left us years back for someone who might get his heart healed from his rot. I love you so much Mum.

The Gift

Father promised a gift once he passes fifth grade exam. Mother will prepare the cakes with ice cream and the usual strawberry juice.

It is only few days to the results to be announced; all are excited wondering what dad’s gift will be! this is his first time promised a gift. All through the years he was away; not noticing our birthdays unless mum reminds him. Mum always wondered why he is absent at family events and present when problems are around us.

The phone rang, mum picks up, she is silent, then she crumbled and screamed: dad is in the hospital in critical condition. Family rushed. Dad is okay but the nurse said that he will be is a wheel chair for a long time.

Exam results were announced, courier delivered the gift. It was a football. Sorry son, I cannot join the match. Dad whispered in grief.

The Carnival

Consistently, his neighborhood bothered him.

Screwing up the spring carnival,

Drama prevented his glory as criticism filed the city squares.

He grinned, then faced the ancestors; ”We will win.

Well, one day, maybe next carnival. Trust me,I commit.”

He seemed so sure.

An awkward promise resonates.

City is being dressed up for the carnival.

A day before the next carnival, he was carried to the cemetery.

Spontaneously, glory likelihood is nil.

From over the neighbors’ shoulders, he cries:

You fool, before you follow me, enjoy every lousy minute of life,

Paralyzed, unreachable pleas, he is gone.

He was the carnival.

The Grey-Haired

While taking a cappuccino in a cafe on a cold winter night in a business city somewhere. There was a Six-foot middle aged Grey-Haired in a black suite outside the big front glass of the coffee shop stepping from a dark blue Maybach. He was holding a luxurious handbag and a small brown wallet while entering the coffee shop.  Just on the opposite table, there was a handsome, rich looking young guy in his late twenties taking his coffee with a cigar; form the essence, one can easily tell- it was a pure Havana blend. The cigar smell filled the place.

The Grey-Haired approached him and bow with respect saying: ‘’Sir, I got you what you have forgotten in the office. Please allow me to park the car.’’. Gosh, he was the driver, his boss said nothing showing carelessness while taking the bag and the wallet. Grey-Haired drove away and returned after a while, stood outside the main entrance. His boss noticed him but never asked him to come in.

On the next table sat a pretty young woman with a red blossom in her daring dark black hair sent a smile to the boss.

Gypsy

She noticed him changing his watch with an Armani one from the selection in the hand bag. He smiled back. She approached his table; ‘’ Mr. Handsome,  May I?” She said.

‘’Sure, but, I am just about to leave.’’.

Grey-Haired noticed her, he stepped in very fast with a wheel chair. He was nervous while saying, ‘‘Please, leave him alone, he is in a wheel chair for five years because of a woman; he drove drunk after losing her’’.

She said, ”I can understand and I can help”. The Boss was interested: ‘’Can someone still do?’’.

”Honey, all you need is love, a unique one; I faced the same and I can feel your sufferings”.

Boss looked at the Grey-Haired who shacked his head. ‘’Boss, let us move on, no one can re-create what has been lost so far’’….no prophesy.