prose
Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts

THE PURPOSE





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In a Bundle: My First Attempt at BLACK OUT POETRY

About a year back, my dad bought me a book titled ‘Mission Earth, Black Genesis’ by L.Ron Hubbard. I have a taste for sci-fi novels and it was thoughtful of him to pick a book for me but soon I found out that this book belonged to a series ‘Mission Earth Dekalogy’. Yeppp...DEKALOGY! 10 books! What I had in my hand was Vol 2. (Just!)
The following week I tried reading it. Few weeks after that, I was out in the market searching for it’s prequel ‘The Invader’s Plan’. I didn’t succeed in any so that book stayed in my bookshelf unread and discarded. UNTIL recently when I dusted it off and went through it’s pages, I realized how I could make this book mine. I found a way I could detour it from inter-space invasions to interpersonal alliance, through BLACK OUT POETRY!
If you are interested to know what Black-out Poetry is, then PLEASE visit my previous post: Shedding some light on BLACK-OUT POETRY

And here is In a Bundle: My First Attempt at Black Out Poetry. 
As aforementioned, your feedback is highly appreciated.


'You're a wonder. Yes, you.'
Remember that.

(This was reposted by an Instagram page dedicated to black out poetry @makeblackoutpoetry as poem of the day. You can also find me on Instagram as @sthaastha)


 Love was the first of everything.
The second was that dark secret
I couldn't understand why he drove me crazy.


He didn't seem to be in any rush
yet I was going too fast.
He could ruin me!


My finger was alive with electricity
I yelled, the doors are not locked.
We were tearing through space like madmen,
only a stupid mistake.
And all for nothing!


That's when I found everything beautiful
the people, the music, the dancing,
the fire that filled the skies.
Even our secret, in dreamlike color.


It was too late, too soon
and bad was dedicated to make it worse.


Maybe it was because I was still confused
or because all the wild sparks flying around got me rattled, 
but to add pain to injury, he didn;t turn around. 
He was half-lying in an easy chair.
He was idly playing a game called "Battle."


The effort had been too much.
She picked up her feet, gathered up 
and then put it all back in the cycle of withdrawal.
She was entering a restless, fitful sleep.

Thanks for going through. 
I am excited about my second bundle of black out prose and poems.
Do let me know if these words speak to you.
And if this interests you, grab a black pen or marker and a newspaper and start Blacking Out! :)
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