Vile Mother Nature


Oh dear, mother nature,
Your parenting is fucked up.
They say, “You’re beautiful.”
And I don’t deny it.
They say you’re vulnerable,
That’s true to some extent.
But don’t you dare act all saintly,
You can be very ghastly.

You’re the reason we’re alive,
You give everything to sustain life.
For that I’m eternally grateful,
I don’t know how do I ever thank you.
But you are pure evil too,
All the tragic things that you do.
You give life, and you take it too.
To the innocent, you’re unjust too.

What joy do you get,
From making spidy eat their mommy?
Do you think it’s a TV show,
All the disasters that you throw?
What reason do you have,
To take children from their parents?
I can’t even list it down,
How you’ve made us all mourn.

Yet you act all so vulnerable,
But, you’re the most powerful.
You can heal yourself, don’t you?
All of us, you can just toss away.
You’re an evil sadistic thing,
Don’t fake that damsel in distress.
Oh dear, mother nature,
Now I see your true nature.

Inspiration: Conversation with Bentrein, read his Spidy Tales

Featured Image by: Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Nature’s Journey

Poetry, Writer life

Oh, how awesome is the spring,
Ah yes, spring is indeed prettiest!
Fresh green leaves peeking out,
From a tiny twig that seemed almost lifeless,
And frail little buds seeking to bloom,
And every life that seemed dead and gone
Open their eyes to live! To live!
Embracing the warm- not so harsh sun,
Oh, how each of them springs to life?!
And embrace youth all over again…
A new beginning, a clean slate,
For the nature to start afresh.

Then, summer comes- it’s time to work,
Photosynthesis at its peak.
The dazzling bright scorching heat,
Is time for plants to make some meals.
The delicate little buds are gone, and
Flower are blooming at its brightest,
Red Tulips, redder red than blood.
Beautiful white dandelions- happy and dancing,
As Blue Jay sings its melodious tunes.
Small boys come out to swim,
In rivers as blue as the vast sky.
It’s the liveliest of season,
Time nature works hard and, parties harder.

Then, autumn comes and leaves fall,
Clouds of gloom- looms over the nature.
Fruits ripen and it’s beautiful,
So, time has come, for them to fall.
The dried leaves cover the grass,
It’s time to reunite with the soil.
There are still some greens left,
Such a beautiful color of life,
The innocent color of youth,
But the beautiful orange steals the show.
And oh yes, there’re the gorgeous browns,
Some as dark as the bark itself,
Some little light browns-clinging to their youthful days.
Autumn, I say- is like an old pair of jeans
Holding stories of the entire year,
Rough, rugged and- all set, for any storm coming by.

And when the winter comes and it snows,
The harshest of weather for the greens.
This is where you understand,
How important Autumn is!
All the greens withered and gone,
Only things standing are strong.
They can bear the coldest nights,
Or wrath of furious hailstorms.
While bear are off to hibernate,
And birds fly away to somewhere warm,
It’s these rooted beings that stand,
Through coldest of nights- tall, proud & fearless.

For NaPoWriMo Day 25.

Featured image by: Guillaume Meurice from Pexels

Walking Archives


Cute little pebbles and unique leaves,
Such a delight on nature walks,
Some people pick the fallen twigs,
For unique rocks, many have a thing.

I happen to have a different pick,
Something different than rocks and twigs.
I pick the lonely living beings,
Like cute kittens and little pups.

Once I found a little mousey,
Such a frail little poisoned being.
I wrapped him in a pink hanky,
Held him as death came for him.

Then I found three little kittens,
Took them home, fed them milk,
Their mommy came & claimed them later,
Wish they stayed with me longer.

Later I found a scared little pup,
Fed him biscuits, took him home.
But, my Bruno got territorial.
So, I had to give him up.  

Yet again, I found another pup,
Fed him cookies, carried him around.
I didn’t dare take him home,
Just left him warm, somewhere safe.

Here goes my walking archives,
No collection to show,
Just a few memories,
With lovely little beings.

In loving memory of, Jerry the mouse, Tom, Jacquen & Angel, the cats, Max & Blackie, the pups.

For NaPoWriMo Day 19, walking archives.

Featured image by: Louis from Pexels

The Call Of The Sea

Poetry, Writer life

I stood on the seashore,
Enjoying the cool breeze,
Gentle waves hitting my toes,
As if calling to my soul.

The whole experience was ethereal,
And I’m not talking about the beauty.
Something stirred within me,
The sea was calling me.

I was captivated right there,
The serenity enveloped me,
Called me to walk towards it,
Be one with the sea.

I was in a trance,
Walking deeper into it,
Half my body submerged,
It felt like going home.

The world around me disappeared,
It was only me and the sea;
The gentle wave and the cool breeze,
Said that’s where I’m supposed to be.

Then I felt a firm hand grab me,
Pulling me out of the sea,
Breaking that captivating trance.
Damn! That was scary!

For, Eugi’s weekly prompt: Captivating

Featured image by: StockSnap from Pixabay

Inspiration: Looe Beach Photo 2 by Dave

The Pretty Little Moon

Poetry, Writer life

Smothered by the clouds,
Out-shined by the sun,
There’s the pretty little moon,
Who smiles through it all.

Amidst trillions of stars,
Who mock her for being alone,
The pretty little moon,
Stays strong through it all.

She’s taunted for her marks,
Reminded of her flaws,
The pretty little moon,
Tries to unhear them all.

Some days she goes red with rage,
The fury burning within her,
The pretty little moon,
Knows how to put up a show.

Some days the darkness eats her up,
So deeply; she turns invisible,
Yet the pretty little moon,
Appears again with a crescent smile.

Yet again she bestows upon us,
Her soothing radiant light,
The pretty little moon,
Knows what she’s worth.

Note: This poem for NaPoRiMo Day Six. And while you may wonder where was the moon in the picture, she was there. She was out-shined by the sun, or maybe, the darkness ate her up, but she was there, just feel her presence.
Also, I didn’t follow the prompt on Day 5. It was too complicated and I’m still working on it. Nevertheless, I wrote something yesterday (not based on the prompt), check it out!

Featured image by: luizclas from Pexels


Poetry, Writer life

The deep blue sky that once brought me peace,
Now crushes me down to a million broken pieces. 

Stargazing used to be my solace,
Now brings me pain like a dagger stabbed right through my chest. 

Bright summer sun I dearly adored,
Does nothing more than burn my heart to dark grey ashes.

Floating clouds that I once used to chase,
Haunts me like the memories of what we used to be. 

Oh dear Sky, where did we go so wrong? 
Every moment without you is a torturous curse!