It was thought that the gods blew on creative people, who would then inhale the god's breath and have an idea. This is the premise of "inspiration": inhaling divine breath and ideas.

Monday, January 25, 2016

The lamp...

Three word wednesday

Madly, adjective: in a manner suggesting or characteristic of insanity, with extreme intensity (informal).

Nocturnal, adjective: done, occurring, or active at night.
Omen, noun: an event regarded as a portent of good or bad

The light from oil lamp continued to burn. She looked at it from where she sat. 'How long do I have to wait? Every second seems to be like a decade. And this lamp... it reminds me of us! The lamp made of earth is like our bodies... vessel carrying our souls.' She touched the wick with her fingers... pushing it above slightly lest it gets put off by the oil. 'This wick... is our soul. So pure... it burns away to give light to others. Oil in lamp is love... without love we are nothing but darkness. Nocturnal animals. Blinded by desire. Spark which lights lamp is lust. And the light which spreads... it is the Truth. The only truth. Only the ones who have loved madly will know this truth.' She closed her eyes.. lost deeply in thoughts of her lover. A strong gush of wind... blew the lamp. 'Alas such a bad omen... ' she said aloud. 'I think not... my dear. Its nature's approval for our act of love.'

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

A bright dark world...

Three word wednesday

Harrowing, adjective: acutely distressing.

Imperfect, adjective: not perfect; faulty or incomplete.

Lame, adjective: (of a person or animal) unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot, (of an explanation or excuse) unconvincingly feeble, (of something intended to be entertaining) uninspiring and dull, (of a person) naive or inept, especially socially.

Her fingers still busy sculpting his perfect forehead. He stood right beside her patiently... 'so I am going to see myself through your eyes' he told her. Her fingers stopped working and she turned towards his voice and replied 'I hope you wont mind the imperfections. I can sculpt what I feel not what I see'. Her voice touched his face like a summer breeze. The clicks of stone hitting the sculpture kept howering in the background. 

She moved her fingers yet again over his forehead... the tips resting lightly over centre of forehead. My lame excuse to touch you again... she told herself. 'My forehead is breathing a new life'... he told himself.

Both lost in their worlds... a world of darkness yet so bright!

Friday, January 8, 2016


Wednesday, January 6, 2016

3WW Week No. 461

As you well know, each week I post three words. You write something using the words.

Then come back and post a link to the contribution with Mr. Linky (but please, link to the exact post, not your blog, by clicking on the exact post title and paste it to Mr. Linky below). As always, there's no hard-and-fast rule that you have to post on Wednesday.

(And if you want a hint as to when I post three new words, follow me on Twitter @tgabrukiewicz.)

I do invite everyone to check back often to read and comment on other contributions. This is, after all, a community for writers, poets and bloggers who clamor for your feedback. Share with friends. Tweet the love. Let us build this community. 

Eager, adjective: (of a person) wanting to do or have something very much, (of a person's expression or tone of voice) characterized by keen expectancy or interest.

Frenzy, noun: a state or period of uncontrolled excitement or wild behavior.

Guzzle, verb: eat or drink (something) greedil

When I looked in your eyes, I mean actually look into your eyes I didnt know I was peeping into your soul. How eagerly I waited for this  moment! The frenzy nature of my restless soul ended... I began to inhale you slowly. Till you dissolved in my nerves... my desire to guzzle you in a moment undone. All I wanted now was dance away to the music of our souls. Peace....

Monday, January 4, 2016

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Friday, January 1, 2016

Monday, December 22, 2014

And I let go....

It seemed like the year's coldest night. Wrapped around in layers of thick clothing yet feeling the chill. My lips shivered. I wonder if it would ever feel the same again.
Smiling at myself I told my reflection that no two moments can be same. Just like how two fingerprints can never match. It leaves an impression in the sands of time.  
Now I chuckled at my reflection ... how foolish of me to hold on to a dream. I opened both my palms and let go. From the centre of my palm rose smoke. And deep inside the chilly winds began to cease. A new found warmth spread across my body. Rising from my toes travelling upwards spreading to every inch.

I laughed at my reflection. Loud and clear. Till my mouth hurt and tears formed at corner of eyes...

 My reflection began to slowly disappear as mist formed on mirror. I still stood there but she was vanishing.  I tried to hold her one last time. The more I tried the faster she escaped. And I  wonder if my reflection sighed a relief. Hmm....