This was inspired by today's prompt at Poetic Asides to write a poem about "The Only One.." I have four only ones and here is a tribute to them. For more on these lives in my life, you can go here, here and here. I will also be posting this poem at Writers Island.
Only One
The Lady of the House
Only you can square your shoulders,
step bravely in front of me,
defending me from the threat that
I haven't the sense to perceive
and yet
nervously circumnavigate
the harmless manhole covers on the street!
Only you can give me
the "Make Me!" look
when I call you in too early
and yet
unbidden, sidle up to me,
matching my stride pace-for-pace
through unfamiliar woods.
Only you can splatter rain puddles
and snow melt, studying the
Lord & Master, Resident Hydrologist
flitting patterns of sunlight
for hours on end
and yet
act like it's bloody murder when I try
to wipe you down with a damp cloth!
Only you can wake me
in the dead of night
insistent that I feed you,
right this instant
and yet
forget hunger for hours
teaching me to play with a string!
Only you can make me shudder with
every thunder, making me wonder
Class Clown and 'fraidy Cat! Look I can sit on people!
if you are safe and not fearful
and yet,
saunter up and down
a steep, slick, rain washed cliff
like it were nothing!
Only you can try to melt me
with your eyes, trying to pour
your essence into me,
so I can take you everywhere I go
and yet
can't stand the heat of my closeness
when you know I am not leaving!
Only you can be unfazed by
cancer and surgery and the
I have to go out and meditate!
ensuing limp
and yet
need an emergency medical visit
in the middle of a raging blizzard
because I would not let you out
on a bone chilling winter's day!
Only you can be trained
to sleep with your head on my arm,
body parallel to mine, like a human child
and yet
refuse to learn your own name!
Only you four!
Only you can love me the way you do
Wordlessly, but in a thousand languages!
This is in response to the Two for Tuesday prompt at Poetic Asides. The challenge is to write a love poem and an anti-love poem. This is the love poem. I will also post this at Writer's Island.
My second attempt at doing the WD Poetic Form Challenge at Poetic Asides. My first attempt is here. This is also a response to the prompt at We Write Poems on writing a poem beginning with the line "I do my laundry..", which I modified slightly. This time I used this site to count my syllables.
Doing my Laundry
I'll do my laundry when I'm good'n ready.
Really, whenever else would it be?
You didn't think I'd be doing laundry
When I could spend time at the library,
Spinning this yarn with lines that barely rhyme
About my poetry and my laundry time?
You actually think I'd do my wash
when everything is in sunlight awash?
Ha! Amazing! Really, now? Nice try!
I'll do laundry when pigs begin to fly!
to wage wars that brought countries to their knees.
Wait!
Before you throw me away in disgust
Hear also of these, that may restore your trust
Of a people who still valiantly persevere
Through an almighty economic mire.
Of a people who fought for their right
overthrowing a man of awful might.
Of ordinary people that work each day
to help in their own small way.
And so before you leave the shores of this ocean
would you please drop me in the recycling bin?
Like water on lotus leaves,
my voice curls up and rolls off the surface of your ears.
Walls swallow up my refrain, imbibing the hurt silently,
The hollowness inside echoes in the foundations.
Like liquid mercury,
my words roll off you and disappear forever.
Too insubstantial for your attention or your grasp.
The poison invades the insides of our world.
Like immiscible metals, we cannot alloy.
We freeze and separate into layers.
How many more times, before I am finally heard?
How much worse, before it gets better?
This is in response to the WD Poetic Form Big 10 Challenge (write a poem of 10 lines with 10 syllables per line) posted at Poetic Asides. I think this poem will also work for the first prompt at Big Tent Poetry for the week. The poem describes what's going on with me this month work-wise. I tried to use words that normally imply freedom (like anything to do with motion, speed etc) to go with a sense of being trapped and words that are normally used to show restraint (ten by ten box) to imply freedom. Do let me know if this works.
EDIT: This poem has been modified, because the original did not always have 10 syllables per line. Thanks to vivinfrance for pointing this out. I used Syllable Counter to count syllables this time instead of the other program which did not work well. I don't necessarily like the way this new one sounds, but I guess I will get back to it another time.
Freedom in a Box
Deliverables! Deliverables!
Flying through deliverables, deadlines!
Relentless shooting at moving targets
Fast foods, frayed nerves, febrile activity
Racing against time's unstoppable march
Willpower playing hide and seek against,
well, you know, will-not-power! While I ? I...
From soaring tempers and rising pressure,
I seek refuge on the Internet and find
This poem was written to one of Big Tent Poetry's prompt of the week. This is my ode to Monsoon Rains. This poem also works for the 29th prompt at Poetic Asides.
The breeze brings in the scent of freshly quenched, far away Earth,
a promise echoed in the dark gray clouds on blue-violet skies.
Diamonds ripped from their silver-gold setting
flung at the feet of the Earth,
crowning her with a thousand tiaras.
The Earth drinks to her heart's content,
healing her chapped brown skin.
The wind lashes at the lanky palms.
The ocean churns herself into a frenzy,
upturned umbrellas whip up to the heavens,
released in hasty, unintentional thank-yous.
Gaggles of giddy school girls giggle in unison,
shivering in their drenched skins.
School bags become makeshift umbrellas.
The whole world is an impressionist's canvas!
The Monsoon sings her song,
cascading in melodic destruction.
This is in response to two prompts. One from Poetic Asides to write about a time in the day and the other to write about writing a poem. Unfortunately I can't seem to find the place where I found the second prompt! If anyone knows, please do leave a comment, so I can properly thank the prompter! This poem describes the creative process as it once was to me!
NaPoWriMo 5 --- 3:00AM
It's 3:00 AM and I am wide awake
Listening to the loud rumblings in my head
The wispy word clouds of the day listlessly buffeted
around by the winds of the conscious mind
have bided their time
and using the stillness of the night
have formed dark, heavy nimbus clouds
ready to pour their bounty out.
Circling around each other,
Dragging their oppressive weight.
Electrically charged synapses,
Snapping and crackling at each other.
Shallow-breathed and bunched up shoulders, I wait for it.
First a bright flash
Illuminating every corner of the mind.
Then the thunderclap
And then the sheets and sheets of rain
The fragrance of freshly drenched Earth
Wafts up, releasing a misty warmth.
The parched Earth is quenched
The page is written.
This one was triggered by today's prompt at Poetic Asides: What if?
What if?
What if? What if? What if?
What if this or What if that.
What if up or What if down.
As Frost once said, it's just a road not taken.
What is, is. What if, is just a mirage
Which may or may not be;
Or may or may not have been.
My third poem of the month for NaPoWriMo. In response to the prompt "something that no longer exists" at Big Tent Poetry.
Requiem to my Lost Creativity
Oh! But would that I were able to write as I used to!
I search thecobwebby corners of my cranium
For that first elusive word that will set the ball rolling,
Call others forth in a gush of poetry.
Nothing.
I stare out the window at the not-yet-dawn sky
One word. One phrase; is all I ask.
One ray of sunshine to cut through the fog.
Still nothing.
Then gratingly, grudgingly
A few words make it out.
And arrange themselves reluctantly on the screen,
Rust still visible around the edges,
Their ragged ends snagging bits of memory and verse.
Story of the Post: This poem is in response to the weekly prompt on (broken window) at Big Tent Poetry as well as an attempt to join the National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) craze, which I just stumbled upon. So, I am going to see if I can actually come up with a poem a day for the rest of April.
The event described in the poem actually happened. I tried to write this along the lines of the nursery rhyme "All for the want of a horseshoe nail", because, well, the whole event seems a little silly. Like a nursery rhyme.
All for the Want of a Little Afternoon Breeze
For the want of a breeze, the A/C was turned on
With the A/C on, the windows needed shutting
To shut the sticky windows, a wooden rod was used
To use the wooden rod, I leaned over bushes
I slipped.
The rod rammed.
Crash.
The window was lost.
And all for the want of a little afternoon breeze.
