Click. Or is it Clock? Maybe it is just Click-Clock!

Click- Clock, Click- Clock
The clock went click
Clicking away as the crickets creak
The cricket’s creak and they click like clocks
Click-Clock, Click- Clock

The old man walked with his grand-father clock
Clocking time with each click from his clock
The photographer stood there and clicked
Clicking pictures of the magical clock
Click-Clock, Click-Clock

With every second from the rickety clock
The runner raced against the stop-clock
No one knew the time on the clock
The crowd screamed when they saw the clock
Click-Clock, Click- Clock

Exploring possibilities

the music was blaring
it made him deaf
thisthingthatthingthisthingthatthing
over and over
and over

movement, motion, kinetic
potential, position, promise
sacrifice, sanctity, salvation
over and over
and over
thisthingthatthingthisthingthatthing

the hurdles in the prose
were making it difficult
but he was not going to
stop this rush that was
more than a suburban train
thisthingthatthingthisthingthatthing

move
relax hold
scream

thisthingthatthingthisthingthatthing

understanding this ain’t
going to be easy as i
thought it would be
considering the fact that
i don’t know this at all

thisthisthisthisthisthingthisthing


P:S Thanks so much for the inspiration Ranj. And I give full credit to you and you only for the italics idea.

Have you ever seen the rain?

Have you ever seen the rain?

Have you ever seen the rain like I have? The way the clouds turn a deep shade of Grey before completely turning black, like the thick smoke coming from the mouth of a chain smoker. The way the clouds loom over your head. And the gentle breeze that it brings with it that blows away all the sorrow?

Have you ever seen the innocent school kids running hastily towards a shelter, clinging on to the hands of their parents with their tiny fingers? The people on the side of the road on their stalls, hurriedly taking the plastic sheets to cover the fruits and flowers that they have been trying to sell all day?

Have you ever seen the retired military officer walking his dog in the evening? The look in his eyes when he sees the younger lot sitting on parapet walls by the side of the road and sharing a cigarette. Have you ever seen the way the kids quickly throw the cigarette away and shamefully look down so as to not see the old man?

Have you ever seen the rickety old rickshaw filled with tiny-tots singing nursery rhymes that they learnt at school or the singing beggar who has a sparkle in his eyes and magic in his voice? Have you ever seen the chai-wallah and the old crumpled newspaper lying on the brown bench or heard his philosophy?

Have you ever seen the tiny rain droplets falling on the sand and making patterns? Have you ever smelt the intoxicating joy that tends to flood the air and along with it your nostrils when the first drops touch the soil? Have you seen the birds sitting on thin branches shaking their feathers enjoying the sudden downpour?

Have you ever seen the puddles on the road or the people jumping over them? Have you seen the speeding cars splashing water on passersby? Have you seen the pushcarts serving snacks, with sweet tea and horrible coffee?

Have you ever seen the stray dogs sprawled on the water or felt the wetness in your shoes? Have you ever smelt the wetness in the air and your clothes? Have you seen the soaked match boxes that fail to light or the sodium vapor lamps that seem to switch on?

Have you ever seen the tip of your fingers that seem to have taken a new shape from all the soaking? Have you ever felt the chill that runs down your spine? Have you ever felt the drizzle prick you like a thousand needles while riding a bike or felt the cold wind that caresses your face?

Have you ever held someone close in the rain, under a tree or looked deep into their eyes? Have you ever kissed the one that you love under the stars, in the moonlight listening to the music of the rain falling on tin roofs?

Have you ever seen the rain?

Have you ever seen the rain like I have?

The Long Road

I sat alone in the coffee shop, like I've done a million times before.
I wanted to write. Poetry, Fiction, A funny story maybe, or a trying to be funny article. Just something. My thoughts were all over the place.

Writing, scrapping it off. Dreaming and Wondering.

Words failed me. I reached a blank. It continued for a long time. Really long time. This is it. I can't write anymore. Not at least now.

Saturation Point?
Out of stuff to write about?
Lack of inspiration?
Way too content with life?
Laziness personified?
End of the road?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Then I heard a song....

"The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind".

Thank you Mr.Dylan.

Would you like another coffee?

The Larry Story

There once lived a man named Larry
People thought he was very Hairy
He wobbled around with a jacket in May
That was because he was happy and Gay.

The more he talked people would Stare
And everyone called him a grizzly Bear
Over and over, More and More
When he sleeps, he sure does Snore.

You could see him wear a Cap
He always drank beer from a Tap
They say he had a heart of Gold
But poor guy was just getting Old.

His house was next to the Clock Tower
The old fox sure had a lot of Power
This is the story of a man named Larry
What do you know, he nailed a Fairy.