Ballad: Bailey’s Son

Ballad: Bailey’s Son

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Galavanting down the stairs in white,
The toll bell’s ringing- bride has arrived;
Bedecked in jewels from head to toe,
The lady in white with her train in tow.

The crowd goes ooh and the crowd goes ah,
Their perfect prince had found a wife;
The single maidens envy the bride,
While the streets of Bailey, rejoice and dance.

The priest stood waiting on the altar stand,
The bride’s eyes searching her beloved’s whereabout;
Silence drowning the energy and high,
A groom gone missing- cause for alarm.

Found laying still in a brothel house,
The Perfect groom with a secret life;
An image misconstrued on views and lies,
Prince charming departs not in the arm of his bride.

And years went by, and the bride moved on;
The town stood still for a while, distraught;
The envious envied the bride no more-
And Bailey learnt prefect was but a relative term.

Day 21 of October Poetry Writing  month. I’m trying to catchup on the prompts I missed. Today’s poetry type is Ballad. Just click on the word for more details on balladic style.

IMAGE CREDIT: getjaam.wordpress.com

twitter: @wordsofarandom

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Happy endings…

Happy endings…

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For a long time, i thought, it was going to be you. My happy ending was finally coming true. Us against the world, an imperfect but happy life. And then, it was just me. Alone, with my thoughts at dawn. I can’t even describe how it happened. The phone calls stopped all of sudden. People say, love is a growing emotion and I thought it’d be the same for the reverse. No apologies, no explanations, no accusation, it just stopped- our conversations. You didn’t bother anymore.

The only explanation- maybe you didn’t love me, maybe you never loved me. And that makes no sense. Not to me, not now, and maybe not ever.

Alone with my thoughts at dawn, trying to find the silver lining, of a crushed happy ending.


day 27 of October Poetry Writing Month. Today’s prompt: What is your happy ending? Write for ten minutes asking yourself that question. IMAGE CREDIT: imgfave.com

Nothing left to say-

Nothing left to say-

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It was right after the first prayer,
Of the day-
The one called subh;
There you lay on the couch,
Trembling;
The all famous, dreaded
Fetal position,
Mama’s just told you;
“Don’t be surprised
You shouldn’t be surprised “-
The voice in your head screams;
And you recall her saying-
“It’s over.”

And right about then,
The Water-pool flows down your cheeks
And you lay there on the couch,
Shivering.
“Dont cry honey”
“Everything’s going to be alright”-

She says;
And you wonder-
How she could be so calm,
When all around you,
The roof’s come crashing down.

Twelve years old and you lay there,
And you just lay there;
whisper a silent prayer
To The Lord you worship
To overturn the inevitable;
And her voice-
It comes back as an echo,
Again and again;
Resonating against brick walls-
The words she’d blurted-
“It’s over”
“We’re getting a divorce.”

There’s nothing left to say
And the water pool-
You let them flow down your cheeks…

day 20 of October Poetry Writing Month. Prompt: Love and the poetry type I used is: Slam poetry also known as spoken word poetry.   IMAGE CREDIT: 8Tracks.com
Twitter- @WordsOfARandom

A paradell-

A paradell-

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And she hid from the world;
And she hid from the world;
Labelled an outsider, she sought freedom;
Labelled an outsider, she sought freedom;
An outsider, labelled- she hid
And she sought, freedom from the world.

And she drowned her sorrows;
And she drowned her sorrows;
In the flips- and pages- of books;
In the flips- and pages- of books;
And of Her sorrows in the books
flips and pages- she drowned.

She was of different specie;
She was of different specie;
A unique entity underneath hazel eyes;
A unique entity underneath hazel eyes;
A different specie of hazel eyes,
Underneath- a unique entity she was.

And- freedom she sought,
In the flips of books
And pages- her sorrows, she drowned;
Underneath hazel eyes, From the world, she hid;
Labelled- a different specie, an outsider;
And she was of a unique entity.


Day 16 of October poetry writing month. Prompt: The Paradell structure. In this, The first two lines as well as the third and fourth lines of the first three stanzas must be the same (repeat) and then the fifth and sixth lines must contain all the words from the preceding four lines within the stanza using them only once to form completely new lines.
The final stanza of the paradelle does not repeat like the preceding stanzas, rather the final six lines must contain every word from the first three stanzas, and only those words, again using them only once to form completely new lines.      IMAGE CREDIT: blog.lily.farm

twitter- @wordsofarandom 🙂

Bandaged-

Bandaged-

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It’s got to go, it’s got to go;
Ripping the bandage hurts more than the wound
At first- Eventually, the pain wears off.

Shivering underneath floral quilt;
Tear soaked sheet, pain sears deep;
It’s got to go, it’s got to go.

Ignoring the deep cut, cover the skin;
One bandage, then two- a layered up ulcer;
Ripping the bandage hurts more than the wound.

The bandage- festering deeply rooted wound;
Ripped off to heal- it hurts, it bleeds
At first- eventually the pain wears off.

day 17 of October Poetry Writing Month. Word prompt- bandage. Poetry type- Cascade, a poetry type In which the poem does not have any rhyme scheme; therefore, the layout is simple. Say the first verse has three lines. Line one of verse one becomes the last line of verse two. To follow in suit, the second line of verse one becomes the last line of verse three. The third line of verse one now becomes the last line of verse four, the last stanza of the poem.

IMAGE CREDIT: Pinterest 

Of love and regrets-

Of love and regrets-

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And I let you go,
Do I regret it, No-
Except for the days the sunrises
And the nights the stars fall;
And the moment a thick cloud gathers
And the sight of a red golf;
And the diner across my apartment
And the scent of lavender plush;
And the moments your memories flash black
Like a blackout, clouding my neurons.

Regrets are part of a life lived
And your dreams demanded your call;
And I chose with all of my valor,
To give into what you want.
Was a month, then two, then silence
I knew for a fact- we were done.
And my heart beats just a little faster-
For your dream- was never me all along.

day 5 of October Poetry Writing Month. The prompt: capture a relationship or a feeling. Don’t just tell it, show it. 

IMAGE CREDIT: Beverly Tan

If Magic was real-

If Magic was real-

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If Rumple was here,
I’ll weave him a story;
In exchange for love,
I’d make him a sweet deal.

If Frankenstein came,
And Made an appearance;
I’d trade him that love-
So he knows what “to feel” means.

If Elsa were here,
I’ll steal her for a moment;
Whisper in her ears-
You’re perfect, snow queen.

If Mulan appeared
In my front, I’d trade places-
To be on the frontline,
Of what I believe in.

If magic were real,
I’d be queen of a castle-
With a Soul young at heart,
And create my happy after.

Day 4 of October Poetry Writing Month. And yup, I am way behind but still not going to quit. The prompt was: take the time to write a poem featuring magic; Have fun with it. I certainly had fun writing this, it was a nice break from dark, or heart break genres 😉 IMAGE CREDIT: Kiloby.com 

Toxic Friendship-

Toxic Friendship-

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They are part of a history
You wish to forget;
But You hear they say sane ones,
Don’t give up on friends;
Even when they turn toxic,
Or flames burn too bright;
When their convos deplete
Your energy and you tire.

Friends are forever
A Bond that shouldn’t die;
So you trudge through the day
While they drain out your life;
And their words sting as toxins
But you still fake a smile;
Cause “you don’t give up on friends”
So we’re taught
And thus we grow-
With the concept that toxins,
Aren’t harmful to our lives;
If we’ve known them for too long,
They can only bite.

But you’ve grown
and you’ve changed
And you write words in rhymes;
And you’ve met friends
Who’ve shown you
Your light, now you shine.
Keep them
At arms length-
The toxins of the past;
You’re not giving up
On friendship
Just taking charge of your life.

Day 3 of October Poetry Writing Month. Prompt: Free write for ten minutes about what drains you and what depletes your energy. IMAGE CREDIT: Quotesgram.com

Hands of Time

Hands of Time

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If I could turn back the hands of time,
And take your place, I’ll give it all
To be the one beyond the glass,
Instead of watching your life flutter past;
Insanity wrecked It’s havoc on me,
When I realized you were lying still.
To turn back the hands of time would be wrong
For destiny’s written by The Greatest who’s sure
Although I tried to keep your head afloat,
And held your hand so you won’t let go;
But there’s only so much a rope can hold,
Before eventually, it tethers and falls;
You said you gave up, I forgot you lie,
And now here I watch the pills take your life;
And I hate to admit in the end they won,
I’m left understanding, the fact, you’re gone.

If I could turn back the time, but I can’t,
And the ifs and could-haves keep me up at night;
And I pray wherever your soul maybe,
Your nights are much better than mine.

Day 2 of October Poetry Writing Month. The prompt is “write cinematically“, unfortunately, it was a tough prompt for me and this is all I could come up with.   IMAGE CREDIT: Vision.org

Clouds

Clouds

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Alone, they are a beauty;
Together-
An overwhelming force.
In patches, barely floating;
Combined-
A covalent bond.

The clouds, hover a reminder,
Of the beauty-
When two become one.
She gazes at them and wonders-
Can two hearts,
Produce an equal force.

The clouds together, ecstatic;
Two hearts- she knew not.

Day 1 of October Poetry writing month. Today’s prompt is Cloud. IMAGE CREDIT:  Morgan Dragonwillow