Flash Fiction: Match-Making miss

Flash Fiction: Match-Making miss

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Girl! You’ve got some serious screws lose.”
“He was such a fine specimen.”
“You know you’re making a mistake right.”
“She sure is! What were you thinking, saying no to him.”

Layla stared blankly, hoping her evident disinterest in their monologues would get them to stop talking; it wasn’t working.

Are you even listening to what we’re saying”,
“We’re trying to help you out here, you know”.

Layla gave a loud sigh, then turned to face them,
Why“, she said.
They stared at her, lack of understanding, evident on their faces.
“Did it occur to you, to ask me why I said no to him?”
Silence filled the room. She got up and smiled wearily,
That’s what I thought.”

Layla pointed through the window at the narrow steep pathway, guarded by green shrubs on all sides, which led to up to the hill.

That’s where I’ll be when you’re all done,” she added before heading out. Their murmurs of “you’re not getting any younger you know,” following her out the door. 


Word count: 171 words.  This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writer’s photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy, where each week we are provided a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story inspired by it.  Thank you very much for this week’s photo @JS Brand.

 

G- Grief

G- Grief

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They’d tell you they’re sorry,
While you stare at the floor;
Wondering how on earth,
A part of you is now gone;
Their words sound so foreign,
Till your love’s name comes up;
Every mention- a drill,
Burning a hole in your heart,

They’d tell you they’re sorry,
And you wonder what for-
It wasn’t their fault,
Heck it wasn’t anyone;
You envision them strolling to
The arms of their love;
Looking down through welled eyes,
At the emptiness of yours.

They’d tell you they’re sorry,
And that they understand,
But you know they cannot fathom
The loss you incurred,
So you nod as they murmur
Words, meant to comfort-
Praying to God, he Is at much
Much more peace, than you are.

F- For my people

F- For my people

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The ground trembles
As one, after another
Drops in succession,
While the night is enveloped
By darkness,
And the residents,
Deluded-
By a false sense of security
Because-
Night is for sleep.
The ground trembles,
And many do not awaken.

Many do not awaken-
The sky turns hazy,
It’s smoky, choky
The kids are crawling,
Crawling towards an escape
There is no escape-
The ground is trembling,
The atmosphere hazy,
Death is overtaking,
While the world is asleep.

In line with my blogging friends Jade (an elegy for them) and Maria (emc2) who have each written a beautiful tribute to the people of Syria who have been victims of a cowardly chemical attack. I consider the people of Syria as my family. My sisters and brothers. And we as writers will keep on writing about their plight and the atrocities against them until the day peace resides once again and we won’t have to.

The beautiful Syrian sunset above was taken by Debra Ellis 

The successful ones-

The successful ones-

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Would I- be amongst those,
Whose fingers would speak,
Of the goodness erupting,
From their finger tips;

On the day when the mountains,
All become flattened,
When man stands- sole,
And account for his deed.

Would I- be amongst, the few
Chosen ones, whose faces
Aglow, from the
Worship of their Lord.

At the first string of light,
They defeat the alarm,
And the grounds would bear witness,
They glorified their Lord.

Would I be amongst those,
The shaded ones,
Who bore with fortitude,
The trials of this world.

For indeed, on that day,
They’re the successful ones.
Those who walked the earth as strangers,
Knowing IT, they will become.

Day 4: On being Alone-

Day 4: On being Alone-

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To write a poem on being alone,
Is to take myself back to a place,
I do not dare to go.

Where the reason why alone began,
In my case at least was to shield myself,
From human’s dreary chat-

Draining in the least, poisoning at most,
How do you dos asked but the answer should,
Ultimately be “FINE”.

Insults capsulated by cherry words,
Laughter and jokes gained at the expense of,
Another person’s hurt.

So I shut myself for the time being,
To regain my peace and renew my strength,
To face the world again.


Day 4: Being Alone. This poem is in response to December Poetry Challenge. 31 poems in 31 days. The stunning image above was taken by  Margot Kelly. You can check out her portfolio HERE

My kind of sadness-

My kind of sadness-

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There’s a sadness,
      Which begins-
           In the quiet of dark;

There’s a sadness,
      Which peaks when-
            there’s noise abound;

There’s a sadness,
       From which sleep-
             Is a sought for solace;

There’s a sadness,
       Which grips me
              -wide awake.

Then there’s the sadness,
        From which my –
                 poetry originates.

It’s that sadness,
        I cling to-
               During life’s turbulences.

When I viewed my “serched terms” recently, I discovered that someone searched for “sadness”. So, here goes.

the above image is courtesy of Me2go.tumblr

Nature’s Embrace-

Nature’s Embrace-

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For her luxury is the sight,
Of a cloudless sky;
Golden rays streaming,
Unfiltered, through cracks.

It’s the crowing of hens,
At the first string of light,
And the tune- of mocking birds,
Singing their hearts.

It’s the softness of wool,
On the skin of her Lambs;
Radiating, “we’re here for you”,
Entwined in her arms.

Luxury is her knees,
In friction with the ground;
With her forehead in prostrate,
As she speaks- to her Lord.

Luxury is the wind,
Sweeping across her face;
With her feet in the grass,
In nature’s sweet embrace.

The above iMage is courtesy of Own Skin.com

For Them-

For Them-

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For the kids with stone as their weapon,
The sky as their roof;
Bloodshed a daily occurrence,
Freedom to live besieged;
For the kids whose tears fall unnoticed,
Voices hoarse from cries;
Struck from every angle,
Their innocence dimming.

For the mother who buries lifeless bodies,
Of children she’s outliving;
One whose milk has dried from hunger,
While her newborn is weeping;
For the ones who dread the sun at daybreak,
For the onslaught it brings forth;
I say, is it worth it fighting-
The ones with stone as their weapon.

photo credit: taken by Peter Biro/ IRC

Send the love-

Send the love-

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Send the love on,
Pass it forth;
Shine the light-
Onwards;
Make it last,
However long;
Just a glimpse?
It’s enough.

Send the love on,
Spread the torch;
Let the rays-
Sprinkle on;
Oh you’re broken?
That’s okay,
Makes the beam shine-
Even more.

Send the live on,
Pass it forth;
Broken fragments-
Seep-in more.
Reflecting unto,
Nooks and crannies;
Spreading love forth-
Even more.


Writing my final exams today and after that “Comment reply galore” :D. This is  me apologizing for the un-replied comments and for missing out on reading some of your wonderful posts these past few days.