Saturday 23 April 2011

Letting Go - NaPoWriMo 13

Today's prompt at the Poetic Asides is to write a "quit doing what I am doing" poem. As usual, I will also be posting this at Writers Island.

Letting Go
I need to let go,
unclench my fingers
clinging on to the exposed
under-roots on the river bank.

I need to drift like
a bright yellow leaf 
and explore the curves 
and dips of the stream

I need to bounce off 
of the boulders,
rub shoulders with flotsam 
and negotiate bits of
left over debris from 
old broken boats

I need to feel the sun
on my face, to battle 
the rain that tries to drown me.

I need to quit holding on 
to the tail ends of old 
experiences. 
I need to take the plunge.

I need to live again.

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Friday 22 April 2011

Only One -- NaPoWriMo 12

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!


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Thursday 21 April 2011

You Intoxicate Me --- NaPoWriMo 11

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.

You Intoxicate Me! (The Love Poem)

I did not ask to love you.
I was just lounging around in the grass
Living my everyday life,
When your scent wafted in,
Extremely intoxicating.
Like a vampire at the scent of a human 
I gravitate towards you
Obeying some unknown dictat of my cells

You intoxicate me and I sink my tooth
Into your juicy foot.
You shriek in horror and
Wrench me away with a pair of tweezers.
You do not believe in inter-species love.
I am just a lowly arachnid to you!
To you, I am just a tick!


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Doing Laundry -- NaPoWriMo 10

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!


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Message in a Bottle -- NaPoWriMo 9

In response to the prompt du jour at Poetic Asides. I have added links to some of the potentially more obscure news stories.
Message in a Bottle

Hello Wayfarer!
Pick me up. Uncork me.
Put my mouth to your ear and hear
As I whisper stories from far and near,
Of how I rode the waves that rose over ten stories high
And came crashing down on a city nearby.
Of how oil gushed out of the ocean bed, 
following greed and leaving destruction in its tread.
Of men that took hostages of ships on the seas, 
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?

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Wednesday 20 April 2011

ad nauseam -- NaPoWriMo 8

This is in response to the Big Tent Poetry prompt for this week -- a poem about repeating myself. The third stanza was inspired by the Wiki article on immiscible metals. This also works for the Poetic Asides prompt "Like (blank)".

ad nauseam
OR
Like Water on Lotus Leaves

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?


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Freedom in a box -- NaPoWriMo 7

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
Freedom in this ten by ten box of syllables!


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Saturday 16 April 2011

Monsoon Rains -- NaPoWRiMo 6

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.
                                                    
Photo from: http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/gallery/2008/sep/09/1?picture=337451501

Monsoon Rains

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.


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Monday 11 April 2011

The first blooms are in.

Finally the first blooms of the season -- not counting the daffodils.
White and blue hyacinths in bloom. If only there was a way to capture the fragrance!



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Sunday 10 April 2011

3:00 AM -- NaPoWriMo # 5

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.


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Thursday 7 April 2011

What if? -- NaPoWriMo #4

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.


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Requiem to my Lost Creativity -- NaPoWriMo #3

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 the cobwebby 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.

My requiem to my lost creativity.
An ode to my adult life's obligations
Here -- my poem du jour for NaPoWriMo.

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Wednesday 6 April 2011

Spring is here! Spring is here! -- NaPoWRiMo 2

This is my second poem for the NaPoWriMo. I will also be linking it to Writer's Island.

Spring is Here! Spring is Here!

The woodchuck in the yard and the foraging deer, 
The sunny daffodils and the blue hyacinth spear,
The yellow forsythia bushes, shouting loud and clear 
Proclaim this to me: spring is near, spring is near.   

The gold and the green and the red fuzz on trees
The tell tale scent of magnolias in the breeze
The throbbing greens under the dry-brown leaves
Proclaim to me: spring is near, spring is near.

But what leaves me in no doubt, makes me absolutely sure,
Is the pounding in my sinus and the clicking in my ear!



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Tuesday 5 April 2011

All for the Want of a Little Afternoon Breeze

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.


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Monday 4 April 2011

Spring will be here! Someday!


Like these lone daffodils here, I choose to believe that spring will get here. Someday.


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