Blogger Widgets

Selfie

selfie cartoon – Brainless Tales.Indianlink

Poses, pouts and random looks,
Lighting, shades and a million hues,
Modes, effects; all settings on,
I am ready for the click,
Go selfie, go on.

So engrossed already in self,
Like brimming with obsessiveness,
Add to that a selfie dear,
I am all too virtual,
My poses check list is clear.

“Could you click a photo please?”
“Oh! Sure, why not! Say cheese.”
These smiling small talks,
Sound so rare to the ears,
Like one of the many endangered words.

Perfection, satisfaction is a selfie,
Interaction, humane is that ~
What is not called a selfie !

Please Note - The irony is even I take selfies. :)

Image Credits - selfie cartoon – Brainless Tales.Indianlink
Poem © Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)
Creative Commons Licence

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2 by 2 inch cloth



I held the 2 by 2 inch cloth in front of me,
Just like David stood triumphant over Goliath,

It blocked the glaring Sun, teasing my eyes,
We may be in harrowing times so often in life,
The hunch of fear on our back,
Pulling us down on the knees,
We hope for a saviour in hapless surroundings,
And forget there is a David in all of us,
Holding the 2 by 2 inch cloth,
To block the Sun and fight the belligerent Goliath.

Image Credits - Google Images
Poem © Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)
Creative Commons Licence

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Blood on the Blackboard

Submitting this post to #MondayMusings - 9th November 2015

As I watch the world,
From my room today,
I see a tiny shoe under ashes,
A blackboard dripping blood,
I hear cries, loud and deafening,
Pristine souls preyed upon,
What I see the most is?
Morality, stripped naked,
While cowardice smirks us all,
This day is evidence of,
When “Shame” as an epitaph
is written on humanity’s tomb.
Every day there is;
A coffin buried,
A pyre on fire,
But if this is an offering to pseudo faith,
Then the coffin is heavier,
And the fire rages higher,
Now cruelty musters up,
Hope stands helpless,
We, the common, need to hold together,
Beyond numerous barriers,
To protect the lives of many
and memories of the dead.

Image Credit : Write Tribe
Poem © Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)
Creative Commons Licence

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Why do I complain?

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 57; the fifty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Madhu Vajpayee, the author of Seeking Redemption and Shades Publications, the publisher of Friendship- Bonds Beyond Time.
Won the Silver Award

I speak of my miseries,
Like it is difficult to bear.
I share my sorrows,
Like that is all is left.
I cry out my failures,
Like success had me “spare”.
I expose my wounds,
Like healing will never be there.

And then –
The homeless man smiles and says,
“Hold my hand”;
Ushers me to his land of nothingness,
where every moment he struggles;
The bone freezing breeze,
The gut wrenching hunger,
The diseased pathway bed,
The rotten smelling dress,
The happy families passing by,
The stories of love,
The success of aspirations,
The everlasting feeling of being unwanted.

As I stand there with my numb soul,
I think to myself,
“Why do I complain?”


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 03.

Image Credits - Blog-a-ton
Poem © Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)
Creative Commons Licence

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Creative Commons Licence
All posts of this blog by Salvwi Prasad is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 India License