Words are like darts
Sharpened and venom coated
Intended to injure
Aimed with precision
And released with the force
Of anger drawn well.
When the wound starts
To fester unreported
“Tis better to endure
A clean incision
Than live with the chaos
Of gangrenous cells
Nothing new there, it’s our daily fare
We were quite used to it.
I’m eight , my sister is younger
By just a wee bit.
We have a kid brother
Who can barely walk now
When our mother goes out to work
He becomes our tail, in tow.
She had cooked rice and a little dal
We’d eaten,but we knew the drill
She’d always wait for him to come
And eat after he’d had his fill.
He was drunk again, last night
With a temper quick to rise.
Mother railed at him,”You drunkard!
I’m waiting for your demise.”
She wasn’t really, I know
She always did as he bid.
She just hated the alchohol bit
I’ve known that since I was a kid.
The money that went drown the drain
Instead of paying for the rent and rice
The beatings that she had to bear
That was the hefty price.
“How do I know they’re mine?”
He’d shove her to the bed.
Some things we understood.
Some things went over our heads.
Last night ,he came home drunk again
And I got in the way
He flung me against the wall
Before I could say “Hey!”
“What happened?”, you ask, concerned
“What is this bandage you sport?”
Ah! My father came home drunk again
And he was out of sorts.
I peeped in
Through the hole
And found
A lot of disarray.
Gaze within,
Without a sound
Appearances can
Deceive, I say.
They had had their time
In the sun
Now they had shifted to the side
Beyond their prime
But still having fun
In the hours of eventide
This post is in response to the weekly photo challenge on the following link:
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/08/03/weekly-photo-challenge-growth/
Entwined,but free…slender grace
Confident,contained,growing at her pace
You’d think she’s weak,but see her spirit rejoice
If she bends, why that’s her choice.
I’m glad about some choices
And the trails not taken
Inviting though they’d been.
In my head loud voices
Said I was mistaken
To ignore the oasis green.
But I’m glad I’d kept on gauging
My own timid intuitions
To guide me through the land
Where the contours kept on changing
And the mirage created illusions
On the shifting sands.
I’d like to submit this as an entry to the following link:
http://souldipper.wordpress.com/2012/08/01/occupy-blogosphere-thursday-august-2-2012/
This is my contribution to the above link: Hope you like it Amy:-)
You fling your chiselled words at me
Well aimed, intended to hurt.
I twist and turn and then flee
My mind in disconcert.
Afar, I find a place to sit
In a silent, empty nook
The darts embedded, I slowly pick
Quite a while, it took.
Then I heard the urgent voice
Of the tiny red-hued drops.
And from my hurt , this I learnt
When your pain ends, mine stops.
nadirafromkannur 