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Written for : Sadje’s What do you see # 178- March 20, 2023

fragments of broken
thoughts scattered across skies in
flames of fiery red

enraged emotions
disperse their fury, stains the
sky with agony

grayish clouds hover
envelops the roaring flames
embraces its torture

now wrapped in comfort
tired and spent, the fervid clouds
gather its fragments

tears shall rain, torrents
will flow, as the fiery clouds
finally let go



whispers of nostalgia

as night draws close

gowning her body

in robes of morose

she journeys again


always unsure of

where she will land

across time

a flight of indulgence,

with time

a trip of tortures

she ponders

these journeys~

where shall it

her lead tonight


kept in every corner of my home

some items of yours in memory

those that come, ask

to whom does this belong

I laugh and say,

these are memories of mine.

they ask me

why the dust on your memories

I reply, this is not dust – it is time,

let it gather

for if I wipe it

the memories become fresh again


Written for : Reena’s Xploration Challenge #272

The mind is a powerful tool on its own
Capable of more than we give credit for
but our inability to unlock certain mysteries has us searching for more.

Come, let’s explore our minds
secrets, they say. It promises a
tranquil experience.

Stroboscopic flickering lights
mesmerize, set to a precise
wavelength, entrainment
through hypnosis, they say.
It’s confusing, I say.

But this induced trance like state
is a blissful escape, as we float
through our mind – subconscious
and conscious become one, they say.

The mind is a powerful tool on its own.

I think I’ll sit this one out.
Perhaps I’ll figure it out
on my own, I say.

#scents of oudh#

Written for : David’s W3 Prompt #46: Wea’ve Written Weekly

An ode to a handkerchief

An ode to my handkerchief
would probably start with a
full stop and end with it too 🙃
so I chose to write on my dad.
Apologies for the variation
and any other errors in form 🙏

Amongst a few treasured memories
you rest within the scents of oudh
scars of tales wrapped in your folds
dear Mr Hanky, dads memory you hold

As I smooth your crinkles of time
you bear the marks of his toils
the presence of your woven threads
absorbed the silent tears he shed

Dear Mr Hanky, his silent companion
as his sacrifices won him life’s battles
joy stained your form of flowy white
as you embraced his tears of delight

Often times, his wisdom I yearn
his reassurance through life’s trials
your edges worn your color pale
I gently pick you up and inhale

Dear Mr Hanky, against my face held
your softness wipes my cheek moist
the essence of dad I breathe from you
etched within crinkles of your faded blue
as scents of oudh flows from you

Michelle’s prompt guidelines

  1. Take out your handkerchief (yes, the one in your pocket right now- no cheating).
    • Remember that during the Renaissance period, a handkerchief was considered to be a powerful symbol of a woman. Giving this item to a woman meant true love, honesty, commitment, and righteousness.
  2. If by chance you don’t have a handkerchief, explore your creative side and imagine you are holding one right now.
  3. Write an ode to your handkerchief (or make-believe handkerchief). Make it sound like a love ode.

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