Skip to main content

Pistia

I used to think that the flower is yet to bloom
Since spring has passed and summer is too warm
Autumn is the season to come
And in winter, the sun loses his charm.


Maybe it’s not going to be her year, I thought
So, I let her be…


But one lonely night…
I woke up shivering due to a strange dream
My eyes caught a glimpse of her under the dim light
And I saw her petals dancing with delight


Now I know that she needs not the right season
Nor the great sun that shines at noon
But for her is the gloomy moon
When it’s crescent, the flower would bloom…
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Day I Thought I Liked You (Love in Laugh and Loo)

The day I thought I liked you All the tweak and twist at the corner of your face seemed like a smile to me The actual profuse smiles of yours, were like stars that rained upon me Your eyes twinkled like glitters from a fairy’s wand, waving sending me spinning in a galaxy of a romantic hope Hope and belief, that I liked you The day I thought I liked you Your laughter sounded like rhythm of the ocean waves Full of energy from an orgy of the marine life dancing in carousel at the deep of your soul Your boisterous mirth in the loudness of a masculine voice tickled me like a mermaid’s hand carousing a harp made of wind howl then I laughed with you and thought I really liked you The day I thought I liked you Your sorrow was painful but beautiful Every crack in your voice when you spoke of your sadness was like the thumping sound of an angry angel’s singing, sending a throbbing shock to my heart, grasping with ...
3 comments
Read more

Eucalyptus; A ghost.

In the deep dark of the dead dawn A forest of grief has grown Rest in rage, a corpse of Eucalyptus slow dancing in a hiatus The moon up so high in the sky hides his eyes away behind lashes of a shameful decay refuses to see how her body sways The riot rhythmic moves of her stained feet mopping the floor of the rooted, tangled deceit the dusty ashes of her lost sanity appeals for a fleet I remember how she opens her eyes when she cries Trying to roll back the tears forming a lake beneath her bosoms Her white porcelain skin benumbed by the gloom of doom Her torn red frolic dress falls revealing her sanctum; a heart as hollow as a phantom I remember her crooked brown brows as her emotion frowns, with arms hugging her disowned broken boughs thick black blood runs from her mind to her chin and she grins as she mouths the word 'sin'. She dances to direction of the ocean of tears and blood of the ancient mourners She sinks deeper as she cries...
3 comments
Read more

cinta

Usia tidak seharusnya membataskan cinta. sering yang tergambar pada citra itu teruna dan dara yang baru mengenal rasa sedang itu, jauh dari dari pengertianya sedang cinta itu tidak dibatasi apa-apa mahupun siapa, mahupun bila, mahupun usia cinta sering terlihat pergi sedang dia masih di  situ terlipat dalam lipatan masa dan kekalutan kehidupan dia duduk di situ menyaksikan wujudnya terlupakan cinta tidak mati, tetapi menjadi saksi  pada kedut di tangan mengiringi suapan makan  pada getar bicara mengepung air mata pada keruh keringat mencari nikmat pada kaku ucapan menahan perasaan dan pada diam yang tidak pernah padam cinta itu ada, cuma bayangnya tiada.
Post a Comment
Read more