The Choice

They say this is where inspiration comes to die. Past the dreaded deadline, not a soul has ever made it. One after another they all went into a bottomless pit.. I asked myself, “Dear heart, what about you? Has all this hassle left you down and blue?” Fear not for there is always a choice. Venture out to tread new waters or go over the line another undead carcass. All of life spent in a philosophical stride only to end in literary suicide. Perhaps there is a way, another way. I could be the one to learn the trade and still stay in touch with reality and keep my soul. What if I could actually pull off inventing that role?

© Abirami

Him.

Words are all I had and he took them from me. It drove me insane, not knowing what to say; to just stare in awe and adoration. All of a sudden there was something I loved more than myself.

Him.

His smile.

His eyes.

His warmth.

Him.

I remember it all. How he looked into my eyes, like we were the only people in the world; the sound of his voice…his laugh. It’s the kinda laugh that reminds you of the good things in life. He didn’t just give my heart wings, he made me want to fly. Flying is not so scary when I know I’ve got him to catch me when I fall. 

© Abirami

Eclipsed by Love

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They say, a long time ago,

When the world had just begun,

The moon fell for the blazing sun.

Every day she chased him into the light,

For when the night fell, he was hardly in sight.

The way he glided past the skies,

He gave her butterflies.

Hoping she has the courage someday, for now she faded away.

© Abirami

Wordly Woes

It was another gloomy afternoon, as I set to work. Looking hard and deep for just about anything. Any frivolous theory, rhyme or word string. All at once, there it was, the faintest noise. It could have been the mid summer wind, for it had the grace and poise. Midst all the world’s ranting and chanting, I could hear them calling out to me. Out of breath, panting, I hear the words shouting out their plea. All these years of being taut and twisted seems to have left them tormented, being fashioned into ‘witty’ prose or ‘thoughtful’ poetry. Apparently, they dream of a life of ingenuity. They cried out to be relieved after ages of being besieged.

Let new verses trail your tongue and fresh lines be put to paper. Have your literary praises sung and creations left to savour.

© Abirami

To be a Writer…

All it takes is a feeling. A kiss that sends you reeling. The smell of the rain or the music that momentarily takes away your pain. Every where you look there lies an untold story. So, keep an eye out for the poetry. It’s not always pretty. Not if you want reality. The truth doesn’t have to rhyme. What has to be said, needs to be said when it’s time. Those demons on your shoulder, they will tell you,

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You can’t”

“You won’t”

“Don’t”

Flick them off and keep writing anyway. 

© Abirami