An Old Flame (Haiku)

Image credit to Ina Fahlsten @DeviantArt, titled Burning Tangle

old shadow, appears
so close, brushes my arm, soft
out these lips, your name


an old candle’s lit
its wick black, burnt and used, but
the smell hasn’t changed


A Departing Gift

Image credit to r3novatio @DeviantArt, titled Down the River

beneath the thatched roof
we stood in silence
watching the river flowing in front of us
i touched your hands
i whispered those words to you
words that i’ve said in my sleep
a thousand times
but your eyes
they’re like a hearth of stones
abandoned by its fire
not a flash of lightning
left in those eyes
i was forced to grope the empty wall
with my bare hands
inside the tunnel of fear
in the dark
confused and lost
to find my way out

you made your decision
to close the gate
long time ago
a bubbling of hope existed
now crushed
fluttering eyes
trying to hold back tears
you left me with no other choice
than to turn away
but you’ve forgotten something
you gave me a gift
the last piece of the puzzle that
my life has been missing
and i will live for my gift
even without holding it
in my hands

that day in the forest
was the last day i touched you
we stood next to each other
but we were strangers
you never looked at me
you didn’t stay long
not a goodbye
not a smile
and you’re gone

Not a Goodbye

Image credit to this--is-the-life2905 @ DeviantArt, titled may angels lead you in...


this is not a goodbye
it never was
not a game either
never crossed my mind

perhaps it’s an intermission
from breaking and hurting
or a prelude
for a morning sunrise

this is not an end
it never was
it’s a beginning
another new journey

where it goes
is up to you
you hold the winning card
but never play it

not all roads have to be winding
but new roads do exist
even rain will end
and rainbow might just show up

this is not a goodbye
it doesn’t have to be…

Submitted to The Thursday Think Tank # 81 @ Poets United, Prompt: Goodbyes

The Unintended Visitor

Image credit to Lolli Chan @ DeviantArt, titled Shy

a knock
awaken him up from a deep slumber
he opened the door
to a moon face
pale looking
a frail figure
standing blocking the yellow gleam from the street
spellbound in her presence
lulled by the sound of her voice
he invited her in
oblivious to what followed behind her
for it was the most powerful storm
he would ever face
oh, how unprepared, the poor guy
trying clumsily to keep it together
the last thing he remembered
before the storm took over
was those eyes
he could see through them
and witness her storm
for the first time
but ….

Poets United’s The Thursday Think Tank # 78: Off The Cuff!

***This was one of those few occasions where I saw the image first and then created the poem based on the image, for the image. The image haunted me, and I just had to create something.***