Sunday, 31 August 2008
the sultry heat gets to me
trickling down my back
the moon stares starkly at the stars
with an unusual dour face
out of nowhere poetry comes to me
I catch the words haphazardly
making no sense yet there
out in the open for me
this particular night is conducive
for darkest of depression
I can write the saddest lines tonight
and still I desist from that
your image stands between me
and this windless hot night
tears and sweat fight to take over
I resist, giving in to none
"why do I need to write saddest lines tonight?"
I can write the saddest lines tonight has been taken From – Twenty Poems of Love by Pablo Neruda.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
my heart and soul……………..
lost in the ocean of love for you
everlastingly plummeting deeper
hurtled against the edge of eon
suffused by your
I don't make a spectacle of myself
when I finally give in to it
"yet I wait to unite with you
she fell on ground
unmindful he trod on her
spectacle, she or he?
Friday, 29 August 2008
I stomp my feet in the mud
where my sandals come off
getting stuck in the muck
barely conscious, I walk barefoot
with an ashen face and
trip on the faulty road
which saves me from getting hit
by an unknown vehicle travelling
at a high speed from the wrong side
unlinear yet in a line,
unmarked dreams ascend
then stop for no apparent reason
suddenly waking up, I sit down
scared to my wits, yet unharmed
for a while I stare at the wall
in someway, somewhere in that dream
you can designate a semblance of order
Picture credits: Rick Mobbs
This came out of a dream I had today while taking an afternoon siesta. . Maybe it was a nightmare, I don't know. It was all disjointed. I wrote what I remembered giving it some sort of order. I don't know what to make of it. I mean the interpretation part, not the poetry one. Can anyone? This is another rough draft. I will work on it later.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
orbs of your eyes suck me into it
I follow that unknown path
in a zombie like state
making inroads into I know not what
if I could write words on the sky
I would at least try that once
but this untread road is one way street.
"believe me, I don't wish to get out of it"
Most writers do have some sort of order for their writing. I am no exception. I set a time for writing even on those days when I don't feel like writing. I simply close my eyes, envisage a particular issue or situation and sit down to write. It has helped me in more ways than one. It has taught me to be disciplined towards my writing goals. If I can't write poetry, I resort to writing books reviews. That helps me put words in order. Many a times, poetry has flowed from there. I also set myself small exercises to motivate myself. I take part in online prompts as they keep me abreast with fellow blogger poets/writers. This way one learns from them, striving to improve at every point. I do feel that practice time is essential for writing. I won't say I don't get desperate at times. I don't let any kind of lapse deter me from my writings. I have observed that when I have travelled emotionally, my writing takes a beating. That is the only time I find my muse blocked out. Otherwise, I write almost daily even if it a short piece. I prefer to write with a ballpoint pen into any of my numerous journals. I truly love buying those. However, loose sheets with a lead pencil too work equally well for me.
There is no hard and fast rule what works for me. It could be anything. I only need to open my mind to all kinds of possibilities.
Sunday, 24 August 2008
I have taken Dave's skeletal work and worked around it. The italicized words are my own. I added a couple of sentences to make sense. For me, this makes a lot of sense. Does it work for you too?
I was dealt a hard blow ,
and startled to do away
with the inevitability of it,
clinging at a day’s approach.
I sawed a lot of the branches
which had blocked out my vision.
just below this tree I have pulled
the eye tooth of a tiger,
round and round,
and I find it somewhat
like glue stuck in my mind,
that does a trick of coins
and that too in ceramic bowls
that never quite broke.
Saturday, 23 August 2008
Thursday, 21 August 2008
he turns towards it welcoming it
he puts out his hand, snatching it back again
why can't he feel anything in his fingers
he tries to open his eyes, finds only holes there
why is he smelling burnt wood powderded to charcoal
concentrating hard enough, he faces the inevitable truth
death can only have only colour, which is amalgamation of all others
his cremation could only come after he had died from drowning
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
I write almost anything. My fictional posts are based on real life situations. Although my poetry is generic, they too border on personal feelings. To put it briefly, I can write almost anything.
2. Do you keep a journal or a writing notebook?
I do have a journal where I jot down my observations. I also write poetry if something suddenly strikes my mind. However, nowadays my PC is more my journal!
3. If you write fiction, do you know your characters’ goals, motivations, and conflicts before you start writing or is that something else you discover only after you start writing? Do you find books on plotting useful or harmful?
As I write short pieces of fiction, I don't really need to develop my characters. However, sometimes what I have in my mind might turn out complete in my writing. It depends how the piece forms.
4. Are you a procrastinator or does the itch to write keep at you until you sit down and work?
Both are true for me. Sometimes, I get the itch to write down as I can't settle if I don't do so. At others, I do keep putting it off! I am trying to inculcate the habit of sitting down and write everyday, no matter what.
5. Do you write in short bursts of creative energy, or can you sit down and write for hours at a time? .
This too depends. I can write for long periods or not at all. Or maybe in short bursts. But when the feeling strikes, one has to sit down and write. Nonetheless, I have felt bored writing for longer periods. I do need breaks in between.
6. Are you a morning or afternoon writer?
I can write at anytime. I am an evening person but for the reason, I work in the day!
7. Do you write with music/the noise of children/in a cafe or other public setting, or do you need complete silence to concentrate?
It does not matter if there is noise, music or any other distractions. I can close myself in and write away to glory at any place.
8. Computer or longhand? (or typewriter?)
Long hand, and on computer.
9. Do you know the ending before you type Chapter One? Or do you let the story evolve as you write?
No, I definitely do not know the ending when I start writing. It simply goes with the flow. Many a times, it has ended in a complete different way from what I had intended.
10. Does what’s selling in the market influence how and what you write?
Not much. If I did, I would be writing porn, which sells!
11. Editing/Revision - love it or hate it?
I truly hate editing/revision. Once I write/finish anything, I want to move on to the next. I might came back later, much later to revise it!
Sunday, 17 August 2008
I give in, disregarding my sane voice
only a feeling, nothing else to hold on to
I can't measure the highs, I don't wish
to think of the lows. each one of us has
tried to define it, a few being successful,
most have failed. nevertheless, that has
not acted as a deterrent. we go right in,
plunging in the tunneled abyss, unmindful
of everything, least of all, the consequences;
giving in to the ecstatic moment of it.
"should we not ponder over, why is it called
falling in love, when it takes us beyond the sky?"
Saturday, 16 August 2008
not quite, a tiny glimpse of you
in my minds eye, I cease being
what I truly am. I become a part of you;
strange it may seem, without you being
here by my side. my palms open to
span your chest, finding nothing,
yet my nostrils pick up your scent.
"for me, your very thought is homecoming"
Currently I am in Bangalore, doing nothing much. I escaped from Delhi for 10 days break, to be with my eldest brother. I kind of needed to do this. Here I am spending time with my 12 years old niece. Both of us are having a whale of a time. It feels good to be with someone who is as young as her! I am behaving like a teenager and she tries to behave like an adult!
She shares my love for reading. I have discovered a lot of YA books via her! I find that she is on fantasies and mysteries in a big way. When I was her age, I used to read Enid Blytons, Nancy Drews, Hardy boys along with Agatha Christies (She has inherited my entire collection!). We were still on kiddie books. I started reading Perry Masons much later. However, I never read any fantasy books at that age. Maybe, there were not many books available in that genre for us. C S Lewis and Tolkein have got popular here, only recently after the Harry Potter books. I am now reading Christopher Paolini and C S Lewis from her collection. I think I will make up for missing out on those books. Both of us are going to read a lot of graphic novels.
Next I plan to introduce her to poetry. That way, I can slowly force her to read my poetry. At least one person in my family should read and admire my poetry!
We will do all this in the midst of gorging, shopping and just having some plain wholesome fun! It sure feels good to be away from work, from Delhi, and from all kinds of daily drudgery. I had forgotten that wool gathering can be so good for the soul!
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
leaving everything behind
even whirlwinds can't compete
so fast that they pass in a moment
you can only touch them fleetingly
their massive size can beat you down
if only you let yourself lead by them
"with your calm exterior, you can win
over thoughts which gallop like horses
in your mind, tightly reining them in"
First I would like to share my thoughts about writer's groups. What do I want out of it? Foremost, I wish for it to be serious about writing and be interactive. To understand each other writings and offer constructive criticism. Feedback is essential for us to move up as writers. One writers group I had initially joined only cared for the so-called group leader. Even if he read out trash, most went ga-ga over it. I truly disliked that aspect as no one was interested in others writing. Not even the moderator. We were forced to discuss his writings only. This put me off and I stopped going after a few times.
Then I joined a poetry reading group. It was a good lesson as long as 12-15 people met and discussed their poems. However, slowly more people trickled in, resulting in utter chaos. More serious poets had to take a back seat waiting for their turn to read and sorely disappointed as no one cared to listen to them. After a while, food was the only thing that held any interest for most of those attended. I stopped visiting this group too.
As you can see, none of the two groups worked out for me. As a concept it is good. Working it out is the problem. Most non-serious writers turn it into a friendship network. That is not what I want out of a writers group. I wish to improve upon my writing. I wish for good critiquing to help me with my words. I am still searching for a good writers group.
A good group can show us our strengths and weaknesses in our writings. That is what I wish for myself. My writings should flow like a river and not impede me. For a poet or writer, getting intimate with the words gives us a high. I truly aspire for that.
What is your take on it? Would you like to join one?
Friday, 8 August 2008
#Update@11 Aug, 2008: It was great to meet many of my friends. I will write about it later on.
a thought which was planted in a jest
germinated few months ago
finally came to fruition after nurturing
did you ever imagine that you would
meet thus with all your girl pals
with whom you shared your girly thoughts
is it not beyond your wildest dreams
that after quarter of a century
you gather at the very same place
which prepared you for life, to face it
the way you are doing now;
indeed, you have come a long way
"Nonetheless, ask yourself, is it the end?
no, my friends, you still have to go a long way
just keep climbing the never ending stairways"
Thursday, 7 August 2008
holding hands they whisper away
sometimes talking dime a dozen
lost in a world of their own
when one stops, the other picks up
non-stop chatter never ends
no one outside of them can fathom
female bonding starts so very early
carrying us through our trials
and tribulations, of our colourful lives
"one can never have enough of female friends"
Photo Credits: Rick Mobbs
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
Those who know me think of me as a teacher. Thats what I have been doing for the past 17 years. Along with teaching, I sometimes double up as a counsellor too. I suppose that is part and parcel of the teaching profession.
As I said before, I came to writing fairly late. That does not bother me. I am loving every moment of my creativity. However, only a few in my family know that I write. Friends, no! My poetic efforts go unnoticed by them. Does that mean I am not a writer? No, I don't think it that way. I think of myself as a poet first and then anything else. Ok, I have not yet published my work. I write and post mostly online. And I do consider it real writing. Feedback/critiques from blogger friends helps me in striving for better. Blogging world has produced and still producing many good writers. It gives us instant feedback and we save on time. We don't have to run around asking for it.
Next, a writer mostly looks at things in different ways. Thats what I do. My imagination takes me into many different directions. A real writer should be able to observe and imbibe and reproduce it in an entirely different way. That is what I try to do. I might not earn millions out of my writing. But so what? I am writing. That is important for me. In a way, it has opened up a whole new avenue for me. The entire world is open for me now. After 1000+ blog posts on both my blogs, I do consider myself a real writer. I write poetry, essays, short stories, book reviews and working on a novel. Next step is to publish my work.
Time slowly passes by
unnoticed I go on
wishing millions would flock
What are your thoughts on being a "real writer"? Do you agree or disagree?
Sunday, 3 August 2008
yellowed and tattered
that piece of paper holds her heart
not a single days passes
without her taking it out
almost devouring it
her name, only a few words in the middle
and his signed name at the end
she knows the words
yet can't resist taking it out every morning
dull purple behind her eyes
can't take away the love only she can see
her first and last love letter from him
he never wrote another
in the forty five years they spent together
they never even said they loved each other
transcending time and space,
love can be never be a folly
he is gone but lives forever for her
Friday, 1 August 2008
To be free. What does it mean to you? How do you look at it? What is true freedom? I know I am asking the same question in different ways. And I am not here to preach either. Many a times, I simply talk to myself and this is one of those times. You can safely skip this.
For me, to be free means to think about the world. To think and do beyond oneself. To reflect and ponder over things and approach or tackle anything in the best way possible. It is about being unselfish. In today's context, it seems impossible. Majority of us are indeed wrapped up in our own world to look beyond it. True freedom for me means to break that shackle and come out of it. For me, God is not important, religion is not important. However, spirituality is. Humanity is. I do not even believe that you must love your neighbours. I truly believe that first you must love yourself. That too, unselfishly. Only then you are truly be free of everything. Self-love does not mean self-obssessed. It means to respect our own mind, body and soul. Many feel that it is our body, it is our life, we can do what we want. Is it? Should we? If we think this way, are we loving ourselves? I suppose, we all need to answer that question. We, only we, can truly answer that. We can hide away from the world but can we escape ourselves? At the end of the day, we have to face ourselves in the mirror.
Do I have to follow a faith or believe in God to perceive it this way? Answering for myself, I say no. As I see it, religion does more harm than good. Nothing can get worse than blind faith. Follow the goodness in your heart. Let your soul show you the path. You won't be needing anyone other than yourself to guide you. That is true freedom, ultimate liberation.