Burning Bridges

A man levitating between two cliffs
https://www.pexels.com/photo/architecture-business-city-outdoors-92928/ https://www.pexels.com/photo/adventure-cliff-lake-mountains-6744/

Bridges forged with birth
stand not far from the earth.
They are bridges made of wood
and if lit they burn as they should.

Bridges raised for the time of the day
never last after the sun goes astray.
They are bridges made of brick
and if pushed, are gone quick.

Bridges built with time
stand the test that it chimes.
They are bridges made of metal
and they stand on, truly eternal.

Then there are the bridges made as gifts
which stand over the deepest of rifts.
From afar, they seem to be made of gold,
Halfway, too late, we find that it is straw and mould.

We burn bridges with every turn we take
to run away from the monsters we make.

Often we set fire to our bridges to hide from our monsters.
The friends who stand by us burn our bridges
and give us the hope that they never find us.

But it is too late when we realise that
The monsters were our friends
and our friends, the monsters.


It’s been three years since I’ve started blogging, and well, I guess it was worth it. This also counts as my 100TH post. Something truly feels special about such a round number 🙂

That Escalated Quickly

This week’s photo prompt is provided by J.S. Brand. Thank you J.S. for our photo prompt!

“No fair. You know this place like the back of your hand,” he complained.

“That’s true only if I’ve seen my hands thirteen times in my life, to be exact,” she retorted.

You say you’ve planted a tree every time you climbed up here?

“And today it’s your turn.”

Continue reading That Escalated Quickly

What’s The Time?

For the best time of forty years, they had stuck together.
They shared laughs, tears, thoughts, and fears.

But not too soon, one had to part ways
and yet his chair always held his place.

For another decade, they stood side by side
Shared their fears and shoulders while they cried.

Alas, time is a ruthless overlord but in a friend’s guise:
for soon enough the next one had experienced demise.

Continue reading What’s The Time?

Missing Me?

Photo prompt provided by : https://pixabay.com/en/light-paint-leather-boot-boot-shoe-316067/

There are his shoes. So where is he?
I ponder as I tie the laces, tighter than necessary.
But I should not wonder where he would be.
Gone on to where shoes are not needed – my tears come easy.

Continue reading Missing Me?

Doctor Moon

Day 3:
Theme: Skin,
Style: Prose Poetry,
Device: Internal Rhyme

The moon felt sad about his bad face
and asked the sun to share one of her rays.
Soon it grew to be in a new phase
And light filled its quiet rocky surface.

The little boy could never smile because he always thought that he was the ugliest person to live. He thought none wanted to be close as he was hideous and unattractive. He had often asked the doctor to help him out, and once the doctor had consented. Exchanging the pills for a wad of cash, to his home in excitement, he did dash.

Yet, the gorgeous moon was far from joyous
A dark mark stayed on the Earth, which was mysterious.
It projected him into guilt more than he expected
and created a plan to work to help the dejected.

On his way he saw the homeless, begging for food and money. But he noticed that they neither had shelter or anything to call cosy. This brought tears to his eyes, as he felt him despise for himself. He chalked up a plan and walked up to the clinic again.

The moon bounced the light to the provinces that were dim
So those in the shadow were thankful to him.
He felt joy that made him melt, in which he started to swim
He knew he should do more according to his prayer hymn.

The boy went back to the clinic and traded his money back for the graded pills. He got back to the sector of the poor and gave out the money, becoming a donor. He found joy, by spreading it. A pleasure he had been unaware of so far. He made the decision to take the action forward as he knew the God of this creation would want him to.

The moon soon disappeared to become new
and about where it went no one knew.
Till he eclipsed the sun, he did grew
and the solar power did cry and raise hue.

The power of the moon was thus made known
The sun cowered and was covered by the moon which shone
His influence on the earth’s waves and ways are stronger
It is the moon that is, to the earth, closer
much like the boy who, as a better doctor became renown.

W101.V2. Day 4. Alone In A Crowd

He had lived his life, fully planned.

Every day, he knew where he wanted to go as if his whole life could have been mapped out. He knew, what to do, how to do it – or otherwise, how to get it done. He was perfect, immaculate and a flawless gentleman. He was there for everybody, and that was the problem.

Continue reading W101.V2. Day 4. Alone In A Crowd

Abandoned

I have been taken.
Forcibly forsaken.

Barely surviving, to provide for another’s comfort.
Squeezed and packed as a parcel, unable to contort.

I live, caged in someone else’s house.
Missing my home, children and my spouse.

Back there, they are praying silently with hope
Thanks to their prayers, I am able to cope.

I work in this region that is foreign.
Land, when compared to mine, is barren.

All these plants look like a fake.
Even the water feels like a mistake.

The worst part is that my tears cannot be seen;
They melt silently into the blue and green.

Photo of an aquarium
This week’s prompt photo is supplied to us by Sonya O. Thank you Sonya!

A small dedication to all those forcibly taken from their homes to serve elsewhere.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (June 9 – June 16) – 101 words.

For my other Flash Fiction Entries, visit https://theblogofkarthi.wordpress.com/category/flash-fiction/

For other Flash Fiction entries for this photo prompt visit http://new.inlinkz.com/view.php?id=534117

For other prompts, visit https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/

Day 16: Neither The Beginning Nor The End (Part 3/3)

Today’s Prompt: Imagine you had a job in which you had to sift through forgotten or lost belongings. Describe a day in which you come upon something peculiar, or tell a story about something interesting you find in a pile.

Today’s twist: If you’d like to continue our serial challenge, also reflect on the theme of lost and found more generally in this post.

The first post in this series, Day Four: Lost in Thought (Part 1/3) can be considered as from the dad’s point of view.

The second post in this series, Day 13: Faith Found (Part 2/3) includes a conversation between the father and the son and has a reference to the mother also.

And, hence, I welcome you to the third, and most probably final post in the series – from the point of view of the boy.


Continue reading Day 16: Neither The Beginning Nor The End (Part 3/3)