The lonely heavens
Being denuded of stars
A cricket,chirping

# Haiku 

Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar.  Frank Hubney is hosting with the theme being brevity with poems of five lines or less.  


Cock and bull

Abruptly reappearing
The therianthropy of Devil
A cats’ gaze
Transfixing me
Boat of life
Moving at a snail’s pace
My peripatetic soul
Bearing a mammoth baggage.

# Free Verse

Linked to dVerse Poetics.  Lillian is hosting with four art works by Catrin Welz-Stein. The works are used with permission by the artist.  


The light filtering through curtains streams into the room, and without touching embrace the naked bodies lying on the bed. The curtains, the vase, and the walls all witnessed the passion of these lovers. Of course these silent witness also saw a gun, the hands of a husband firing it, first on his cuckold wife; and later to his alleged competitor.

Now the blood from the bodies and tears from husband uncontrollably flows. The hotel where the lovers bodies unite became the place where their souls united too.

Death still awaits to reap one more soul from the room.

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: JS Brand


“No the building was not meant for remembrance, but more as the idea of showcasing extravagance. It’s a prime example of profligacy.”

“A man I believe is remembered because of his works, his words and most importantly his conduct. Nothing is needed more for a dead man than a few feet of land. After all no one, not you, not me, nor anyone else is going to take anything from this world. And I do mean anything, even those who have everything are no exception to this rule.”

“I don’t agree with the analysis. It’s self contradictory statement.”

“What do you mean?”

“You started by saying that a man is remembered by his work. So you ignored the person who constructed this mausoleum, and instead focused on the person who commissioned it. Thus it’s not an idea of profligacy, rather an idea of preservation. You see long after our bones have turned to dust, this mausoleum will showcase the art style of our times. It will become a piece of history. And so I ask the House to grant the necessary funds to erect this landmark in remembrance of our great leader.”

As he sat defeated the parliamentarian looked outside the window and murmured, “Even the dead have houses, the citizens well for them there are always, I guess, streets.”

Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.


Faith in its many forms, has been pretty much a prerequisite for humans to acquire a state of mental peace. Faith isn’t just on supernatural, but in many cases on political and social systems, and also in human inventions and innovations. 

But faith can be blinding too; irrespective of it being put in some unearthly Demiurge or fellow human being. In the great civilisation of Ancient Egypt, sphinx was constructed in front of Pyramids as it was believed it would protect the tombs of the Pharaoh. But subsequently people forgot about who constructed it and when; and in an age of ignorance started believing Sphinx to be a God and even started worshipping him. 

There are numerous example of such blindsided faith all over the globe. Although the magnitude of their ‘influence’ varies. As one can see even being carved in the stone implies the structure being built by humans, not to mention the hand drawings of swans, the opening is decorated by a brass bell. It signifies the structure being used as a religious site. 

So what did we learn today. Yes Jim Adams, go on, don’t be shy. 

The high school kid with his careless attitude rose up looked around and declared, “Humans, majority of them, are stupid.” 

The class suddenly burst into laughter. 

Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent


They say he lives in heaven
Heaven, they say, is the place he lives
The heaven, I say, is within me
So I ignore him, as he can’t ignore me.

They say to love and praise him
As it will bring me close to him
I say why should I cry out his name?
He listen to everyone, everyone including me.

Some say he is just an imagination
That he was, still is, just a mad man dream
I say, I sleep at my bed peacefully
While over him they loose their sleep

So why I should heed the words of many?
While they follow the word of few,
I will follow a path I make
Its destination,  my own subjective truth.. 

Linked to dVerse. Paul is hosting with the theme being ghazal. I don’t know if the above poem can be described as one. Feel free to criticise. 


It sees, but doesn’t absorb
Reflecting closeness as it is
It’s unable to discern
Receiving everything and everyone

It doesn’t touch, yet it connects
To a reality, ever-changing
Quantifying the effect of time
Showcasing nakedness, baring it all

It proclaims without uttering..
Its silence occasionally deafening,
A hefty thwack hitting it’s body
A cracked mirror, a bleeding fist.

#Free Verse 

Linked to dVerse Poetics.  Bjorn is hosting with the theme of mirrors.

Edit: For some reasons I can’t see the widget link. So although it’s for dverse it’s not yet linked. I apologise for misrepresentation.