@amulyafreelancerr Happy Happy Happy Birthday Baby!!!!!!!!!! Yayyy I'm so happy♥️♥️ I'm so sorry I couldn't do much this time, but here's your first surprise. So the following is a poem in which each stanza is an individual Haiku poem. Also the first letter of each stanza will form a word (like Acrostic) which is a clue to the second surprise. So enjoy!!! I hope you'll love it ♥️
You're the best thing I can call mine The euphoria to my cloud nine
I'm a mess and you're someone who gives meaning to this chaos. You make me feel worthful and worthwhile even at times when I feel utterly useless. I cannot describe in words how grateful I am for the love you've given me, the love that surpasses infinities.
It's been long since I wrote something for you. So here's a poem. I couldn't think of a title and I don't know what it means. But I hope you'll like it ♥️
Edit - A friend brought to my notice that a child who has lost his parents to death is called 'orphan', a woman who has lost her husband to death is called 'widow', a man who has lost his wife to death is called 'widower', but there's no word for a parent who has lost his child to death, because no word is enough to suffice that grief of losing a child!
She came here every morning With a bouquet of His favourite 'White heaven' lilies Pure as his eyes Only if he could unclose them One last time To breath their fragrance And carry that gust of air Back where it belongs
She sat beside him for hours Weeping and whining In that eerie, dead quiet And talking in whimpers Only if he could listen to her voice One last time Like a swan song Bringing him solace Before dozing off To eternal sleep
As she gets up to leave Her heart yearns for him To wake up and ask her To stay a little longer Only if he could wave her goodbye One last time With a smile on his face Like his first kindergarten day As he hopped his way To the new life
Today she arrived In a black casket Adorned with a wreath Of white lilies And now she lies peacefully Alongside her son Finally at rest At the exact same place she died A long time ago!
A brief summary : Here 'I' refers to a person who laments the death of her lover, he happens to have committed suicide due to his mental health issues. Here the skies can be interpreted as skies in literal sense or also as fate.
A poem that calls the skies harsh
The sky hangs, Like a broken tapestry Of blinding blue acrylics Yet, when I ask him If he's doing fine He lets out a a blunt sigh. We are nothing but At absolute Zeroes, You , me Our sobs, Your skies, my skies, Our skies. The colour of my sky, Is the colour of your skin Dark patches of our forgotten history, Of togetherness? I say. Near the sun, the sky looks young Like high and drenched in felicity, As a whole. I find you, In a galaxy of euphoria, Nowhere near close in the corner of my heart You were reading a poem, Cadaverous, I recall. When even the skylines, Couldn't deter you, From your poetic plummet, As I watched the blues, Being harsh, Once and first in their lifetime Engulfing your living fuselage into, Nothingness, that followed, A hole in my heart. You were too full, Of bubbles of anxiety, Grey smokes of anorexia, Foggy panic attacks, Of things in your head, And me. Yet you took the bullet, It was too much, you'd say I know it was. And I dread the skylines, While you weave a poem. But, you took the bullet Yet, I died the death.
• Origins of the 'Concrete Poetry' format refer to the era of the 16th & 17th centuries, of more modern use; the 1950's. : poetry in which the poet's intent is conveyed by the graphic patterns of letters, words, or symbols rather than by the conventional arrangement of words.
Shaking a leg, you hatched. Pearly smiles covered their teary delight. Raptures of flowers bloomed in their garden. Impeccable nexus turned idyllic. Nifty junctures became protuberant. Giggles and grins were only heard around.
Sojourner of shrewd toddler to a novice juvenile you became. Ubiquitous you flattered in a while. Merrinent encrusted your tan, Mirth became your favorite pill. Eagerness to grow up was all you wanted, With Radiant and rakish sunshine beside.
Altering your happiness, adult you became. Unbidden responsibilities knocked your door. Time left your home in slighter interval. Unnatural swaping of esteem took palce, Mincing the jouissance, crops you mowed. Naive vexations ruled your head.
There is a close corrrespondence between the seasons and the stages of life from birth to death. In this sense, Spring represents birth while summer represents youth, autumn adulthood and winter old age and death. Source: google. _______________________
The man in blue comes by every second Thursday with a bundle of envelopes and a rose for my sister
Three letters, we snatch before he puts them in the box, the ones with flowers drawn on the bottom left corner
I, eurus and mum sit by the fireplace that night and read out loud the three poems that survived
He is away on war, the poet - my dad and the words he sends are the promises he couldn't keep
It's been a month and the post man hasn't come my sister's flowers have withered and mom's heart beats slow
Four poem less thursdays pass and the phone rings eurus holds my hand as mom talks eurus screams as mom falls
I am eighteen and a half sitting by the hospital window near the bed where lay mom and E, with a promise in my hand
' My death will never be my own but of the three flowers I never saw bloom
I see the sunrise everyday but I'm scared to see the sun set when the waves take me away, take care of our little east wind, she's meant to fly, high and free; read the poems I have written, to our queen before she sleeps
Thunder, when the waves take me away, will you be the peace in the war their hearts will seek?
-the last words of a poet on war-'
A tear escaped and wiped, I nod towards heaven and smile
"your death is not your own." a line by Sherlock Holmes. Gladiolus is a flower which symbolises strength.