The quilt of earth shields an
unborn silver plant.
The soil rejoices as it imagines
unified leaves topped
with a purple crown.
This was written for Colleen’s Double Ennead Challenge No. 7. This week’s challenge is to use the poetry Oracle to create a Double Ennead.
The poem below was written for Colleen’s double ennead challenge No. 6. The Double Ennead comprises five lines with a syllable count of 6/5/11/6/5, (33 SYLLABLES per stanza) 3 STANZAS EACH = 99 SYLLABLES, NO MORE, NO LESS! During this month, poets were challenged to use the image below to compose their poetry (ekphrastic poetry).
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
floats in the wind’s song,
wavers and shivers at the sound of thunder,
calms at the sky’s blue folds
and their white patches.
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
looks for life in hills,
stills at the urgent cries of pouncing eagles,
rubs wings with a goldfinch,
croons with small songbirds.
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
stares at earth’s colors
flies to join golden finch in the red maple,
cuts into samara
finds home in lush warmth.
The poem below has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge No. 5, conducted by Colleen. This challenge starts with the double ennead of 99 syllables reduced to 48 syllables to 24 syllables to finally, a haiku (12 syllable poem).
Double ennead (6/5/11/6/5)
The pale green butterfly
seeks a pale green leaf
wanting to spread his body on his shelter
fluttering his wings and
breathing the leaf’s scent.
Breathing in a way that
only the leaf hears.
His tiny chest heaves and falls to the music
of the dark, roaring sea
and his eyes quiver.
The butterfly travels
alone to his land
of hazy dreams where he drinks from pale flowers
that has a shade of green,
the leaf unaware.
48 syllable poem (3 stanzas 4-7-5)
Pale butterfly
spreads his body on the leaf
breathing in her scent
His chest rises
to the music of the sea
as his eyes quiver
Butterfly soars
in dreams and drinks from flowers
the leaf unaware
24 syllable poem (1 stanza 6-6-6)
Pale butterfly finds home
in leaf only to chase
his unfulfilled yearning
Haiku (12 syllable)
flailing summer
he leaves life
finds home in mirage
Cherie looked at the old photo of college students, decorating her wall. He was the one on the corner. He had refused what she had asked and was now a flower vase in her showcase. Each vase symbolized the mood, color and character of the person, thus keeping them alive forever. Her collection had kept growing and she intended to add more.
“Cherie, did you dust the mantelpiece?” her madam called out.
“I will do it right away, madam,” replied Cherie, rushing over to the living room.
Madam had her collection of bouquets too. The ones that never withered.
This week’s flash fiction challenge is to write a story about “the old photograph.” What is captivating about it? Where did it come from? How does it incite a story? Thank you, Charli, for the opportunity.
My body shivers as I get off the train to look at the strange spectacle of human faces from the corner of my eyes. Unmasked and fearful of making eye contact, some people seem to rush down the streets while others keep close to the walls, their heads down. Assailed by sunlight, I walk in circles, wondering if I should cross the street to my office. I breathe with relief as I notice the essentials of life outside my office. Masked and relaxed, my eyes crinkle into a smile at my teammate as I walk confidently to my seat.
This was written for Charli’s Flash Fiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch. This week’s challenge is to write a story about a new way to office. Has the office changed? Can we return to normal after big changes or time away? Go where the prompt leads!
Hello Friends,
My short story was published yesterday in CafeLit Magazine. It is a time travel story. Do please check out the link below and let me know what you think.
My Great-grandma is my Classmate
Thank You.
The songbird croons and hums
expressing an ache
for the waning night from the depth of her soul
as she glides to the hole
at the break of dawn.
The rose shrinks its petals
and clings close to leaves
holding on to the last traces of the night.
blushing at dawn’s bright light,
dew oozing to stem.
The boy pretends and squints,
hiding in his quilt,
eventually, he picks up his school bag
and adjusts his class tag,
walks the sunny path.
The double Ennead comprises five lines with a syllable count of 6/5/11/6/5, (33 SYLLABLES per stanza) 3 STANZAS EACH = 99 SYLLABLES. This month’s theme is to write a double ennead based on a magical experience. You may choose the end rhyme scheme you want. Thank you, Colleen, for this opportunity.
Marie felt intense hunger as she marked the papers. She took out her snickers. She just had a little time before she got ready for second grade.
“Excuse me, teacher.” She turned at a low voice. It was Mina, one of the shyest girls in first grade.
“Yes, Mina?”
“I didn’t get the fractions you taught today.”
After ten minutes of explanation, Marie was satisfied that Mina had understood.
“Here, take this.” Marie smiled as the girl’s face brightened at the snickers.
Though a little late, her heart was filled with contentment as Marie walked to the second grade.
This was written for Charli’s Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. This week’s prompt is to write a story that seeds generosity.
The police inspector stood amongst the rioters, negotiating.
“They started it first,” screamed a youth leader.
The inspector told him what would happen to his future was he arrested. Anger reduced, they jeered at him. He was not the aggressive cop they were hoping for.
“Did you open teargas?” thundered the commissioner.
“No signal, sir.” The inspector cut the call and stood between the rioters, talking in soft tones, reminding them not to fall prey to their passions. Their mockery turned to exhaustion and they dispersed in the midnight, as a lonely figure walked back to his police car.
This story was written for Charli’s Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. This week’s prompt is to write a story that rethinks the hero. Thank You, Charli.
The earth gently opens
to show frail patterns
of leaves, green and purple, basking in their poise
before pulling back to
guard their sibling blooms.
Quails chatter in a calm
extinct birds’ language,
showing off their tanned wings to partners, hushing
at the delicious spray
of dew on their beaks.
Huge mountains and plains still
while oceans whisper,
as skies pour down, drenching tiny and huge lives
soaking the brownish sand
in colors of joy
The poem above has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge. Thank you, Colleen, for the opportunity.
