Call me Midnight...

with Torquoise tips over Tuscan bay

Fold this into every morning

and feel as light as day

Something like Cerulean

Prussian or slate gray...

Ultramarine, sets out to sea

all these herons that break away—

In waves on the sultry voice of Etta James

carrying more than water on a silver tray...

In the final blush of twilight we’ll be watching

out where elegant Russian cats play

Touching the dew of forget-me-nots with a hem

of denims that always seem better as they fray

#FavColor #ChallengeInspired

The curtain opens, there’s a man on stage,

no light shines on him, yet his shadow still stays,

The magician doesn’t speak, but he opens his mouth,

a long cloth of differnt colors is all that comes out,

like the lies he’s been fed, he keeps pulling them out,

pulling, pulling, pulling, do they ever end,

I mean does it ever end, placing it in his hat, he makes his only friend,

even he hops away,

the magician tries trick after trick, with each act he grows more frantic,

heart racing, sweating and pacing, he grabs the wand in his grip,

whatever it is you want, it’s something else you’ll get,

as he tries to match the queen of hearts with the king, he slips,

52 cards fly and flip until finally the floor they hit,

The crowd chants love is magical, but he knows magic is fake,

love cut his heart into pieces with the sharpest of blades,

but he kept a big smile while the blades were in place,

when he walked off stage, it disappeared from his face,

like now you see it, now you don’t,

please bring it back, that’s something he won’t,

You hold the world,

my friends,

people I do business with,

and countless others.

(I am not my Self—

this selfie)

You hold the time,

set the date,

play upon the Internet,

even count the seconds

when I jog or walk.

you fit perfectly wherever I go

—this selfie

trapped inside

a case I've kept

filed so close

to the vest—

You always make sure

I get my messages

and never ask for anything,

but occasional juice now and then.

You hold the world,

and I clutched

with clenched

fists the bars

of my cell—

#CollabChallenge

First, the mental picture...

Then comes the act- later..

But is it a clear sight?

Is this even right?

‘In order to carry a positive action we must develop a positive vision.’ ~ Dalai Lama.

#Bingo!

#DalaiLama

...the Wise row very slow

with oars and ears

pointed like arrows—

to avoid the errors

of our ways—

bidding through these rough and salted waters

that have filtered through our days...

....the Wise bare urns and vessels

of the potable and the altogether

incomprehensible—

that somehow ease the drought

of this unquenchable thirst—

for all of that which 

we do not know.

When you think you’ve got me

send up a flare or type an SoS call.

I’ll take a moment to pause and look back

down my path at who I used to be.

Before I continue running

young wild and free.

Forever chasing

my destiny.

Image: Chasing Destiny

By: Phapguni Roy

That smell which envelopes you with the need to phone home.

You know the one.

The one that encompasses you in that feel.

You know...

THAT feel which is a mystery, ensconced in an enigma, shrouded in a riddle.

That smell; That feel; of supernatural

And superhuman feats and limitless potential.

That perfume of strength beyond all imaginable possibilities.

That touch of gentleness.

You know that barely perceptible hint of danger if you get hurt in any way.

Woe to the perpetrators of your maladies.

That sense of being the single most imperative part of someone else’s being.

That shimmer of glee at the sight of you behind such weary eyes.

You know?

Those eyes which wake up at four in the morning every day without fail -

No alarm clock needed.

Those beautiful windows in which you see the entire galaxy and only you can see it. Feel it. Grasp it and keep it. Forever!

You know the one.

That one that makes you yearn for Mummy’s bed.

Although you are now (supposed to be) that to someone else.

But deep down inside. There’s a part of you which remains an awestruck child.

Believing (translation - knowing for a fact),

That She is indeed invincible.

She is the yardstick that can never be matched.

And although you’re an adult;

In some churlish way, you still do the whole

“My Mum is better than your Mum” bit.

We’re just using subterfuge to pretend we aren’t.

But.

We are.

But that is how it should be.

That smell. That feel,

Should evoke all that and more.

That fragrance. That sensation.

Is like chip and pin.

Ever interlocked.

I am not going to lie,

The first time I saw you,

My heart fell in love just a little.

At first,

I only noticed the physical.

Much to your disbelief,

You are very attractive.

You have this smile,

Oh, that smile;

It just lights up the room.

With one look,

You could melt a girl’s heart.

And your laugh- well, many laughs-

They are simply magic.

Somehow,

You can produce an abundance of sounds

That are all equally hilarious

And wonderful.

It is so easy to notice those things,

The beautiful and attractive parts of you.

And it is easy to fall for them.

But the more I get to know you

And the closer we become,

The farther my heart falls in love.

You have this talent,

Where you can be the stupidest,

Most dorky and funny person.

In a moment,

You can send everyone

To the ground dying of laughter.

You know how to make people smile,

How to make everyone

Feel welcome and comfortable.

But on the flip side,

You can be completely serious and mature.

You offer yourself up,

You offer whatever you can give,

For those you care about.

You give comfort

And support

And encouragement

And love.

You have this beautiful,

Open and honest way about you.

When I share my heart,

When I show you my broken pieces,

And all of my darkest parts,

You do not mock,

Or try to fix me.

You do not tell me some generic saying,

Like ‘others have it worse’,

Or ‘look for the silver lining’.

You do not run away

From the demons inside me

That have scared off so many others.

Instead,

You acknowledge my pain and sufferings,

And you give me encouragement.

You extend your help,

But only if I want it.

Most importantly though,

You are simply

There.

You care.

You stand by me.

You offer yourself as a support,

As a hand to hold

And a shoulder to cry on.

I have never before felt so comfortable,

So relaxed,

So safe,

Around another person.

I have never before

Been able to open up so easily,

So willingly,

Or with so little fear or anxiety.

And, I most definitely have

Never

Experienced both of those

With any one single human being.

You are so young,

Yet you understand and see so much.

You are wise way beyond your years.

You know what to say,

And what not to say,

What to give,

And what to not give,

What to do,

And what not to do.

You know when any of those are needed,

And when they are not.

Our friendship started out

Simply as a silly happenstance,

A mostly random add on social media.

But now,

Now we are friends.

And, if I dare,

If I am willing to risk the chance,

Risk the danger of getting hurt again,

I would even consider you my best friend.

You saved my life

On more than one occasion.

And, not only that,

Not only have you kept me alive,

But you have helped give me life.

I am no longer just alive,

But I am living.

And I want to live.

I never knew that one person

Could mean so much;

That one person

Could affect so much.

Until I met you.

It has only been a few months,

And I wish it were more.

I wish I had known you

From the beginning.

But I am so grateful

For the time I have been given,

For the memories and experiences

That have changed my life.

I am so glad to have met you.

I am so blessed to know you.

I am so thankful to have you

As my best friend.

Dear Writing Mood,

Where have you gone today? Did I do something wrong?

I woke up as I usually do — with a cat on my chest, a hunger in my stomach, and a Hamilton lyric on my mind.

I ate breakfast as I usually do (greek yogurt and banana slices enjoyed with a youtube video). I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and popped in my contacts. I looked up the weather. Frowned at the weather. Yawned. Checked facebook. Yawned. Checked instagram. Yawned. Checked CNN.com. Screamed internally for five minutes, praying to god and Anderson Cooper to make it stop.

I had a miscommunication with my Amazon Echo. (“Alexa, play songs by NYSNC.” “I can’t find songs by En Suite.” “NO. Alexa, play songs by NSYNC.” “I can’t find songs by And Stick.” “Alexa, please play songs please by the sensational 90s boy band NSYNC. Please.” “Playing songs by Ed Sheeran.”)

I did all my typical morning things.

Usually, my dearest darlingest ’ol friend Writing Mood, you’d pay me a visit by now. You’d rush up to me with a perplexing mix of madcap enthusiasm, delusions of grandeur/future Pulitzer winnings, and screeching, terrified doubt. You’d distract me from listening to an NPR podcast, looking up bulk grocery deals on Amazon, tossing an overprice toy at my cat for her to barely chase once then ignore, or completing some other vital task.

But today, you’re MIA. I’ve sat down to utilize you — with my laptop, then my notepad, then my phone — but you’re gone. Out of reach. Vanished. Amelia Earhart-ed.

Did I do something wrong? Something to upset you? I swear I haven’t been cheating on you with Pinterest DIY Crafting Mood; we’re just friends! Yes, she’s made me some beautiful artwork and scrumptious dinners, but we don’t share the same deep, life-affirming connection as you and me. She doesn’t get me like you do; she’s not The One.

Am I not worthy of you anymore? Have you gone off to romance younger writers? Hipper writers? Charming wide-eyed writers who practice adjective restraint and don’t overuse the em dash? Is it my habit of ending sentences in prepositions to which you cannot put up? Do you talk dirty to these budding wordsmiths? Poetically? Lyrical? Listicle-ly?!

I can be all those things too! (Come back and I can publish 20 Incredible Reasons Why I Desire to Be in the Writing Mood. Or 30! Or 50!)

Please. Just tell me what to do. How can we reconnect? I can’t write without you. I’m lost! I’m hopeless! I’m trapped! I’m going to spend the day rewatching and crying over the new Queer Eye instead! (Don’t test me; I’ll do it.) I’m —

….wait, wait, what’s that? Are… are you trying to tell me something, my sweet precious Writing Mood?

…Oh, pfffft this letter?!? Huh. I guess I did just write something. Would you look at that?

Thank you, you mischievous little trickster. I love you.

All for one

& one for all...

All is fair~

In Love and war...

We fight-

By each other’s side

Here-- altogether

For this crazy ride.

#Musketeers.

#AllFor1&1ForAll!

#TousPourUnEtUnPourTous