Haibun: Good Summer Fun

It was a bright summer morning and the dazzling sun was reflecting on the wet terrace tiles as mother washed them with a garden hose. Little brother (6yo) and I (9yo) were playing around in the terrace-garden, where the sunflowers stood at attention, all facing east, we were dressed in tank tops and capris. Playing “you’re it” we went to mother and started running in circles around her, giggling and in full spirit of the holidays.

She told us to stop bothering her and go play quietly in the garden and although we knew she wasn’t really bothered because she was smiling, we ran off to the garden anyways. When after a few minutes we again went back to her, she turned towards us, the hose was in her hand and the stream of water splashed on my brother’s face and then it was my turn, the cool jet splashed on my torso, my wet feet slipped on the tiles and I went sliding across the wet-warm terrace, which had now turned into a mini waterpark.

Mother was laughing as she sprayed us with more water, bathing us. We were in awe for a moment and then it turned into joy and we both were soon getting rid of our tank tops so that we could slide more easily and have some more of that good summer fun.

Wet Sunflowers swayed
As smiling eyes of mother
Filled the Summer day

M. Jay Dixit, 2020

Posted over at dverse: Haibun Monday: Being But Human

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Hard Rain Falling

Hard rain falling
Overflowing
Craters of the moon
Holes of my heart

Hard rain falling
Drowning
Heat of sun
Possibility of hope

Hard rain falling
Shattering
Homes of men
Hearts of diamond
  Sleeping alert
     Beating fast
         Sighing for days gone
           Crying hard
             Dying hungry

© mjaydixit 2020

Posted over at Quadrille #116: Poem Those Possibles

A reading of my poem “Sustainability”

Dear Reader, I invite you to listen a poem about Sustainability: a conversation between a kid and his father.

The underlying message of this poem is for the present generation to practice sustainable development i.e. development done by keeping the needs of the future generation in mind. I’ve written it in rugged free verse, from a perspective of a kid addressing his father so as to target the maternal and paternal instincts in readers, attaching them to the message on a deeper level.

Hey father, 
look at what we’ve done. 
What about the peaceful paradise 
that you’ve promised to your son.
 
I don’t feel safe 
in this world anymore 
I’m a mother nature’s son. 

And you sit there 
thinking I’m insane. 
But do you ever stop to notice 
that this fragile planet cannot sustain 
the sheer number of human beings. 

Overpopulation 
Starvation 
Inflation 
Do we even give a damn, 
these crazy politicians! 

Everyone’s multiplying 
till they’re all walking like flies. 
Do we even care? 
Why can’t we compare 
ourselves with the flowers 
and the birds & trees 
and the clouds that roll by 
and the Sun that sits in the sky. 

Then afraid and confused you ask me, 
‘What’s wrong with Mother’s womb’ 
As you cover coastal waters with oily blankets 
convert fields of grass into deserts 
turn soaring eagles into vultures 
as you cut down trees 
and they fall like dying soldiers. 
As you pave peaceful oases into parking lots. 

But father, don’t be afraid 
I’ll show you the way 
Together we can save 
our dying mother 
Together we can 
keep her safe 
Lets reduce, reuse 
and recycle 
starting from
today.

~dedicated to all the artists who spread the message of love towards our mother Earth far and wide.

I’ve also submitted this poem for Open Link Night hosted by dear Linda at dVerse

Haiku #1

Behind your brown eyes
A brook beneath autumn leaves
My heart floats there, too.

– © M Jay Dixit, 2019. September heart-to-hearts

Linked to EIF Poetry challenge 9: haiku hosted by Ingrid and judged by Jaya

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Poem: Colourful Swerves

Anxiety is pulsating piercing blue
of the overhead fluorescent led lights.
Why more people don’t have the calm yellow lights
and laughing green gardens anymore?

Aren’t anxious people increasing day by day?
It makes me blue.
Most flowers smell sweet and cold
But some, like red roses, smell hot-sweet.
You know what smells hot-sour? A fart! of course.

Rock “n” Roll is blasting out of the speakers
shooting colours everywhere
Like a dazzling November sunset.

Synesthetes perceive
different senses together.
Weird? huh.

What sound does love make?
(Chirping of birds or sweet silence?)
What colour is loneliness?
(Colour of the burning moon at early dawn?)
How does late afternoon sunlight tastes?
(Like warm oil?)

In my synaesthesia
Letter G is green
It tastes like guavas
and I can hear it sigh
When breeze ruffles the garden grass
It smells great in summers
But it smells gaudy and awful when people puke.
Puke is green too, of course.

People of the world keep calm and carry on
The blue hue of anxiety will ebb away
And yellow hue of motivation will flow in
Plant more green and rejoice
for green is the colour of laughter.
The colour of life.

In reponse to Meeting The Bar: Synesthesia To read more about what is “Synaesthesia” and how to write a poem using grapheme color synesthesia, go to dVerse!

Secret Thoughts of a Survivor

POEM featured in The Drabble

By M. Jay Dixit

Don’t panic, you overslept.
It’s almost noon,
The Sun can’t help you now
just THINK..

… Alone and thirsty
Now lost too …

… the needle, yes!

I can magnetize it
just gotta rub it on my hair
for a minute

then suspend it?
(using shoe lace)
No, too much wind.

Float it then
(on a leaf)
Yes, that’ll do the trick
But I have little water left …

Just pour it on the leaf
float a smaller leaf on it
and lay your needle on floating leaf
Voila!
you can drink your water
from the leaf
after
you know which way you’re facing.

M. Jay Dixit is a Mechanical Engineering undergrad with a passion for poetry.

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Poem: Oh, my Love..

Do you remember, how the man failed you,
used to let you fall down and break apart
always, let you down and broke your heart.

Remember, when you were young, before the man;
how the whole world, was at your command
always, always full of hope and love.

And if you ever; feel so motiveless
that in the morning; you can’t get up from bed
Always remember, remember today.

 Oh, my love if you ever change your mind
 about getting up and leaving it all behind
 Remember, remember the 5th of November. 

M Jay Dixit, 2020

Castle of Devils featured in A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors

Void gnawed at my guts
                teeth that called my name
Pale heat of foreign city
                such nights sighed tears – where
Bone Fishhook moon
      throws silver knives
          Stabbing heart
              Violent Eyes
                  Rude hands
                       Absent manners
                            Prejudiced Minds

Baby Fingers tickled deep in womb
                Mindless Terror and desperate longing
Though Void’s emptiness shielded love
                The tapping fingers did soothe – by
solitudes wish
    gnarled tree trunk
        mothers lunch
              filled belly
                  a cosy bed
                      oily sunshine 
                          friendly bathroom
                       
There but I sat, as fall Sun flowered...... Click here to read the full poem
               

M.Jay Dixit 2020