Looking Back At The Childish You

Many thanks to Fandango for hosting this challenge. Today’s prompt is Mature.

Looking Back At The Childish You

Copyrights: Dragon Warrior. He’s Ryu.

Just a year gone, memories piled,
Looking back to the while,
When you had a smile
Whenever you heard my name,
Or saw my face, or whenever I came
Anywhere near you,
Or when I’d look to
The desk where you sat in middle school.
Ah, those days, when you thought I was cool,
No, the coolest boy who’s ever been,
The smartest boy you’d ever seen,
How used to smile, in your childish pleasure…
You don’t think of me now, do you,
Now you’re so mature?


Copyrights: Dragon Warrior. And this is Knzryo.

This poem is written in perspective of a 16 year old boy called Ryu, for his cousin, Knzryo.

What Pegman Saw: When You’re Gone

Much thanks to J Hardy for hosting this amazing challenge of What Pegman’s Saw. This week, we’re off to Chechnya Russia.

Screen Shot 2020-06-04 at 7.12.19 PM
Copyrights: Google Maps

When You’re Gone

An icy spell hovered by the clouds,

With nothing but snow all around,

Hamza dragged his boots into the snow,

He didn’t know what to do, or where to go,

He wore nothing to make him warm,

Only dark thoughts swam

Round his mind, only darkness lingered.

His heart felt more frozen than his limbs,

His mind felt more numb than his fingers.

He looked into the skies,

Drew back, a sigh,

And whispered into the air,

The words no-one could hear,

“When you’re gone, my world feels more bleak

Than all the winters at peek,

My heart has dried like all these leafless trees,

And I won’t mourn if one day I shall freeze

For when you’re gone, 

I’m all alone,

No beauty is appealing,

No cure is healing,

No bird seems to sing,

For my darling, you, and only you, is my spring.” 

Crimson’s Creative Challenge: The Forgotten Cottage

Thank you so much Crispina, for hosting this challenge.

copyrights: Crispina Kemp

The Forgotten Cottage

‘Twas a forgotten little cottage,

 In forgotten little forest.

A young plump guy, who didn’t know why

He was alone,

Stared at the house overgrown

With weeds.

He’d come following those strange reeds

That grew by the riverside,

Strange things he saw, animal hides,

Colourful pebbles, patterns on the ground,

And soon he was lost, for he didn’t know the way round

The forgotten little forest.

He stared at the forgotten little cottage

With fear-laden eyes.

He looked to the ground, he looked at the skies,

He called his friends loud, he chanted prayers,

But there was no-one, nobody to help him there.

But there was someone in the house who’d heard the boy cry,

And there from the house, out came the most peculiar guy,

“Come he said my dear,” said the man who was not touched by age,

And there went the young guy, right in the cage.


Copyrights: Dragon Warrior

Well, here’s something about the “young boy”. There he is, do you like the way he looks? So, this time, I’m trying to write a story with characters from different parts of Earth and he’s one of them. Thanks so much for reading, have a great day (:

Grey

A little poem about the colour grey.

Grey

On a grey day, by a grey path,

Under grey skies, lay a graveyard

With grey stones, and wilted flowers,

And grey moans and grey showers—

A grey mouse, with no house,

Groped about the graveyard,

‘My future home’ he muttered lone,

And went away in the grey path.

What Pegman Saw: A Street Without You

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll for hosting What Pegman Saw. This time Pegman takes us to Asución, Paraguey.

Screen Shot 2019-12-20 at 9.19.15 PM

A Street Without You

In a busy, crowded street,

I didn’t know I’d meet,

The stranger who could change my life.

Yea, I was a gangster, playing with a knife,

Toying with guns, rough with words,

Sharper than swords,

And you were calmer than a mouse,

But invited me in house,

And cared me above the yourself,

You gave me a bookshelf

And a world full of care,

From an urchin of nowhere,

I have risen so high.

Still now, I look at the sky,

And remember everything you did for me,

Like a burning candle,

You’d been caged but made me free,

You’d given your all,

For me, you fall,

And now is a day when you’re gone.

And I still stare at the streets where once I met you,

Where once we walked together but now I’m lone.


This is actually from the point of view of the main character, Yuma, of a story I am writing now. He is a 16 year old former gangster, thrown out of the gang after attempting to kill a mathematics school teacher when he meets a quiet, studious 16 year old student Kenjirou. It’s a story about sacrifices.

This is Yuma
Copyrights: Dragon warrior

Hurt

Exams are still going on, but Tatsuya had an emotional outburst. Too hard to be swallowed. Too bitter to be told aloud. That’s why a poem outlet.


Hurt


A deep shaking down my heart,
Like quakes, soft tremors,
Going hard,
Shattering hearts with
Knives of broken trust—-
Like pieces of glass.
Awful rumours,
Swallowed hard,
False believes, false myths,
Dreams rust—
In this awful cage of reality.


I am hurt—
Like a wounded bird,
Can’t sing, can’t dream, can’t tell.
Hopes fell,
Trust fell,
All gone down, down the life’s well.
It hurts
When people you care turn back,
Stare you cold looks
Throw in their black books—
Just because of an unknown mistake.
Can’t take,
Pleading help from myself to recover
A cold feeling nobody cares,
A forbidding feeling that never lets me dare
To go out and seek the world.


He wanted to ask, what did you do when someone you really care turned back?
And I apologise to anyone whose feelings I’ve hurt for my delayed responses. Everything is going so muddled for me…

P.S. Would you please tell me, do I sound too “fake”? Do I seem too emotional?

A Letter To Yeka

Dear Yeka,

I know, I have met you just a few days ago but already you have won a big place in my heart. I don’t know of enough words to describe the lovely and cheerful personality you have. You certainly are really sweet and lovely and amazing! I am really happy that I had found your lovely, warm place. You are a warrior, and a protector indeed.

Yeka

A warm ray of happiness,

Always smiling, full of cheers

Always accepting, always helping,

Spreading light everywhere,

Dear Yeka, you know the beauty

And the real shape of love,

You the silver lining,

Of every grey cloud, looming above,

And that’s what makes you so pretty.

You are brave, always sweet,

You know how to take defeat

With a smile. You are brave,

For you fight for the right.

I admire you a lot,

And with you, it’s all about love.

I thank my lucky stars, that our paths have crossed.


Warm Regards,

Yours faithfully,

Dragon Warrior

(Mabuhay!)

Crimson’s Creative Challenge: The Forgotten Trail

Thank you so much Crimson for hosting this challenge.

The Forgotten Trail

~ a verse by Tatsuya

Hiking forth, I stumbled upon

A thin trail, left alone,

Twigs and weeds, grown all around

That scratch and I frown,

At the edgy ground,

Until I see a flight of stairs.

Small stairs, Stones stairs.

Who knows they lead to where,

And yet, to the unknown, I follow.

Dark and creepy, the stairs went,

To a place I never knew or came upon,

Fantastic beasts I met,

Fantastic places, a purple sun

And blue grass, and roaming stouts

I had come upon a land of great adventure,

But alas, I did not know a way out!

Dark Thoughts: By Tatsuya

Another poem by my imaginary friend, Tatsuya Tuorin.

Dark Thoughts

~Tatsuya Tuorin

Unknown, what’s wrong with me

Unknown, where I’m heading

Just know, yes, I am fading

From the world and every other

Place.

All the emotions’ a mess,

Dwelling in darkness.

I’m smiling,

I’m crying,

I’m laughing,

I’m dying,

My whole heart is shattered.

Maybe, just perhaps, I never really mattered.

Unversed Prose: Poem by my 12 year old self

Today, while browsing a few diaries, I came upon a few poems written in 2017, by my 12 year old self. There aren’t that nice, but I decided to give my little self a chance. So here is a poem by hers, not a single word changed by me. (That time, I used to read a lot of classics, so it had a tint of olden days 🙂

Unversed Prose

O Great Scholar! Not a wise man as thou
Why then ask a fellow boy, write verse- form of prose?
Why make a flow confined in lines?
Why stake a blow of compelled rhyme?
Why divide theboundary-less, free moving words in narrow groups of fours?
Why then, asks a fellow boy write verse-form of prose

O Great Scholar! Not a wise man as thou
Can’t you see he inner beauty, of an unversed prose?
The lines are independent, wherever they roam,
Why burn with shiftingwords and turn them into foam?
The words that flow ever where, without limitor fear, why rules you impose?
Can’t you see the inner beauty, of an unversed prose?

O Great Scholar,! Not a wise man as thou
Can’t you see, verse goes with poetry, but not with prose?
Do you not realise,poetry is the free spirit which lives after death?
Do you not realise, verse is just the body who is left in the berth?
Why can’t you unite the body and soul, and remove the burden you force?
Can’t you see, verse goes with poetry, but not with prose?


Written from the perspective of a medieval prince, Dai, of Mhokaizi (spelled Ho-kai-zee) empire from Cygnet.