ups and downs---Poetry on Thursdays

This week's prompt is Walking in the World and our host is Tracie Lyn at The Red Door Studio.


with despondency you hang your head
as an addendum, you get back to bed.

nothing seems to move for time being
all your aspirations seem to be fleeing.

up and downs are nothing new to fear
go right ahead, do not let it come near.

explore other areas where you are strong
with the right moves, it won’t go wrong.

impediment are but testing our endurance
why give in to self-destructing grievance?

taking on the world, perish that twisted view-
remember, your loved ones rally around you.


Next week's host is Liz Elayne at be present be here, the prompt being Utopia.

spice it!-----Poetry on Thursdays

This week's host is jillypoet, the prompt being uncorked---uncork whatever you want and pour it out into your next poem..

spice it!

cleaned, cut into squares
sun dried, salted.
tossed around
once in a while
with condiments,
tangy spices.
ginger, chillies, mango
fighting for supremacy.
bottled through summer
soaked in so long-
oozing with taste.
mouth-watering
aroma reaches out
well before uncorking!!

Next week's prompt is Walking in the World and our host is Tracie Lyn at The Red Door Studio.

factorizing fear ---Poetry on Thursdays

The travelling poetry show is being hosted by Carolee of The Polka Dot Witch Blog. The theme for this Thursday was Confront The Fear.

factorizing fear

confounding thoughts as ominous as night.
mysterious clouds camouflage moonlight.

necropolis is calm extenuating that end.
explore around, you might find a friend.

tombstones covered with mossy grime-
disintegrating with passing of time.

lifeless corpses recline in damp graves.
with epitaph “in death, he is saved.”

only remnants of those long since dead;
are carved stones, placed at their head.

in this austere place, misery is released;
all journey into intangible, eternal peace.

I stare standing, head bowed down,
longing to sleep in quiet underground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What better way to confront the fear other than in the graveyard. This is a re-worked poem from the archives.

Next week's host is jillypoet, the prompt being uncorked---uncork whatever you want and pour it out into your next poem..

Click travelling poetry for more....

Click what I read in when I am having troubled times...

Ode to Tiredness-----With due apologies to Keats---Poetry Thursday

bones feel dead
each single muscles is going limp
eyes are drooping,
ears stop hearing.

body refuses to rest
cracked voice cannot let out a thing-
brain cells go numb,
thoughts fly away.

sleep is absent
inactive yet awareness persist
supine, stupefied feet
lay limp with fatigue.

in that restful state
where mind sleeps body moves-
where body sleeps mind dances-
I stand in attention

saluting, paying tribute
to our dear friend,
otherwise known as tiredness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For more poetry, click, The Travelling Poetry Show, hosted by Left-handed trees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do read the previous post, for you, my friend and pray for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Update: I have received two blog awards from two different sources:
1)


This is from ces.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2)


This one is from A E Roman

I thank you both.

I don't know if I am supposed to pass those on. I might do so in a while.

window view of silhouetted dawn-----Poetry Thursday

The last prompt by Poetry Thursday tells us to make use of the line "an open window" anywhere in our poem.

This is another of my rare love poetry. Maybe the last one. Who knows? Who cares?

window view of silhouetted dawn


sitting by an open window
staring at the silhouetted dawn
i can still see your jerky movements

togetherness by the sea
unfolds in my mind.
each particle of gritty sand
imprinting firmly on my body

reminds me of unanswered
communication between us which
had no need for those so called words.

absently tapping the rosewood table,
uncrossing my feet at my ankles
i grow still with nameless
anticipation for what I know not.

i brush strands of hair from my face
wetness of it surprises me. with
sad allure I wipe away my tears.

“with you gone, beyond time and space has no meaning.”

Click an open window for more....

blood in the streets---Poetry Thursday

After a long summer break, Poetry Thursday has come up with an idea of "taking one of the poems we’ve already written and use the last line of that poem as a jumping-off point for an entirely new poem" or "why not (with proper attribution, of course) use the last line of a published poem as the first line (or even title!) of an original poem.." i.e. last lines, first lines.

I have taken the last line of Neruda's "I'm Explaining a Few Things" and used as the first line for the following poem.



come and see the blood in the streets-
bodies severed, tangled, unrecognisable
spilt red fluid ties them as nothing else did

your fight has gone too far, don’t you think?
children orphaned, revenge is in charge
yet another generation pulled into it.

a lone man holds his head in his hand
pictures of horror embedded in his mind
knowing not what was it that hit.

sirens of doom foretell unheard terror
ignoring the dead, picking the severed;
sound of a child’s cry fills the street.

come and see the blood in the streets-
although, why would you even think of it,
it is not your blood trickling, is it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This goes out for all those who think that violence can solve all problems ailing this world--- world leaders, Religious fanatics....you name it, they are at it.

To read more poetry, click here...

Trick of Being Scientific----Poetry Thursday

nowadays, emphasis should more on the scientific-
studies which can be comprehended with proofs
explanations are to be simple with no blatant tricks.

learning process should never make any one sick-
taking all those in a stride, uncaring of any spoofs.
nowadays, emphasis should more on the scientific.

mind to be nurtured with extreme care brick by brick-
stimulation provided for thinking out of the loops,
explanations are to be simple with no blatant tricks.

there is nothing in the discipline no one cannot pick;
knowledge to be paramount, never considered goofs.
nowadays, emphasis should more on the scientific,

which makes commencement of it appealing to click
in psyche, taking child’s intelligence beyond the roofs;
explanations are to be simple with no blatant tricks.

paradoxes prove the rule, learning has to be quick,
certain theories though tricky made easy in groups.
nowadays, emphasis should more on the scientific-
explanations are to be simple with no blatant tricks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* I was not very satisfied with my original post. I have played around a bit. Even now I am not much satisfied with it. As I said once before, villanelles are killers.

**I am feeling very sad about the announcement of closure of Poetry Thursday. I wish all the best to Rob Kistner if he hosts PT or starts a new poetry site.

tarnished green sheen----poetry thursday

veined with an antique
design, turquoise stones
alternated with amethysts,
links entwined delicately,
bluish tarnish enhance
green sheen, glistening
with orange radiance
with a purplish tinge.
charms tinkle with
jingling reverberation.

sold in a by-lane
veiled from prying eyes,
silver bracelet-
blackened by time
(or is it oxygen?)
portraying character-

awaits a wrist worthy of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am not much of a silver person. Recently I bought an antique silver bracelet with amethyst. I have not taken it off since. It looks even better with the oxidized look it has got now. I think tarnished silver looks much better, maybe I am biased.

Civilization------Poetry Thursday

outside the windowsill,
a tiny leaf sprouts
nervous of the terrain
but eager to absorb
the sunshine. light
stares back, unsmiling
willing the leaf to be
useful. sipping a little
water, it senses changes,
each pore tingling
opening to ensconce
those noxious gases
yet giving out oxygen-
sustaining all life forces.
understandings the
purpose of its life,
shoot blossoms to tree
perpetuating the world.

we, the civilized ones
ax it down to ground.

Intangibles-----Terza Rima---Poetry Thursday

intangibles is mirrored in the orbs of your eye
however, you see me watching you intimately
to read the mystery embedded deeply. you sigh

unwilling to share that enigma shielded so closely
by none other than you. even from me, who is but
you. I discerned it right from the beginning, wholly

accepting it, questions farther from my mind. shut
me out, if you must, in the end you have to arrive
tapping at my heart, asking to stay, twisting my gut.

you know not, your love shows though you strive
to keep it in check by your coldness or plain anger
nothing can hide that aura bursting forth. deprive

me if you must, why deny yourself that sensation
which is beyond intelligence, beyond comprehension?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do read my free verse, Spaced Out, which was my first PT post of this week. That hits hard.

Manacled-------Terza Rima----Poetry Thursday

Manacled-------Terza Rima

I refuse to extol that rationale to sell
foremost thoughts, erstwhile desire
half-truth world knows yet too well.

attenuate slight air, and faltering fire;
crawl back, cut short that demolition
of character which survives quagmire

of satire, that has caused destruction
of spirit, cultural values of inherent
magnitude in the surrounding action.

barrage of acidic comments are cast
almost uprooting my afore said decree
however, I pause, upholding steadfast

to my beliefs, I forge ahead, mind free
of confusion, breaking those shackles
clearing cobwebs, not giving to spree.

nothing should keep spirit in manacles
nurture it such it reaches the pinnacle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At times one has to write for oneself. I think this is one of those moments. It might not make much sense. Nevertheless, inner conversations are necessary.

PS: I need to get back to free verse...:D

Baking Words-----Terzanelle-----Poetry Thursday

I have been on a reading spree. Best Sellers, Historical Romance, Whodunits, Animal related etc etc. So much so that I was confused for a while. This terzanelle is an outcome of that. Again posting it raw and unedited. It might appear vague to some.



Baking Words-----Terzanelle

Reading all those books gave me a headache
myriads of character spinning within my mind.
It would have been better if I had baked a cake

where in all that chocolate meringue one finds
nuts with glee, which can’t compare with books,
myriads of character spinning within my mind.

Plots thicken, cases solved, police chase crooks
with no avail. They too preferred to search out
nuts with glee, which don’t compare with books

of law, which, judiciary deals for weeding louts
out of the system. Sometimes police work hard
with no avail. They would prefer to search out

bakeries, where pastries don’t taste like card-
board pieces, baking is a pleasure- gloom dies
out of the system. Romances too, are so hard

to be anything but tender, seeds of hatred sigh.
Reading those books, no wonder gave a headache
so strong. Baking is sheer pleasure - gloom dies,
replaced by such hunger that can never be faked!

Sestina----Learning from Life---Poetry Thursday

Sestina---Learning from Life

Why only now you seem to have a query
waking to reality by observing your compeers
Before this you did not care for ostentations
What makes you work out towards avocation
of that particular kind, to show solidarity
for all that, you have always pointed as fiasco

Leading from the front, what will this fiasco
of the situation get you other than a query-
cursory of superficiality, not of solidarity
as you expect. Your so called compeers
can only let you down, your chosen avocation
will never lead to those spiritual ostentations.

Being away from the world of ostentations
for too long, how can you make this fiasco
work by reaching for that specific avocation
which never interested you. Ignoring my query
you close your eyes, seeking blindly compeers
endorsements, forgetting all the solidarity

of your loved ones. Still I extend my solidarity,
standing up for you. Knowing ostentations
will leave you in no time, leaving all fiasco
behind. A new you will shun those compeers
who only pull you down; stopping the queries
of confusion. You will take in a new avocation

which can help achieve personal goals. Avocation
should not matter as much as much as solidarity
towards fulfilment. Never did a solitary query
answer what we really seek. Those ostentations
are only as good for a material world. Compeers
cannot comprehend what truly are life’s fiascos.

However, I must leave you to learn about fiasco
of being in your own way. Experience of avocation
of any kind can get you away from those compeers,
Who are willing you to fall flat. Solidarity
is an alien word for them- leading a ostentatious
life, seldom thinking or having any kind of queries.

would avocation lead the way for ostentations
or solidarity issue forth from so-called compeers
my query sanguinely discards to facilitate fiasco?
--------------------------------------------------------

This is my first attempt at writing a sestina. As I have been doing admission for class 11 in my school, some girls just try to blindly take up subjects chosen by their peers. It somewhat speaks of that.

I need critiques to improve upon my technique. Please do feel free to offer me your opinions.
..................................................

Addendum: Do go over to my Reading Room blog to read a review of Deadly Kisses By Brenda Joyce.

Love Ponders---Shakespearean Sonnet---Poetry Thursday

I am back from Dharamsala, Himachal Pradesh. It is also known as the abode of His Holiness, Dalai Lama. I will write about that soon.

I will get back to all your posts too!

Here I offer a sonnet for Poetry Thursday though it is friday here. I wrote it a few days back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


with unseeing eyes my gloom gleams so
i start reassuring her on her eternal discontent-
how like Eve's apple does her allure grow
sweet, lovely and loyal, is all my argument

alert is my heart, to mind’s and soul's delight-
to pristine process, to amalgamations strange
that in black ink my love may still glisten bright.
aeons, you shall not show off that i do change

although pondering kills me, i have not thought
about that where depends birth, affluence or wit
i lament the lack of many a things i have sought
it might seem bare, in coveting words to show it.

these faltering steps give my heart an extra youth
to feed upon the curiosity of surroundings truth.

Flooding Joys----Sonnet----Poetry Thursday

Thinking of profusion where paucity lies
working for that goal where ideas are spend,
ignoring useless predictions and prophecies-
not even depending on thunder, rain and wind.

bringing in authenticated data into their way
changing the course, curing without disgrace
for the anguish to diminish and flow away-
welcoming the stream to our famine-ridden place.

Cascading, cool, and to enticements slow
nevertheless, rivulets overstay their power.
Trickling over fields for green plants to grow
bitterness disappears with their first shower.

Joys abound inwardly at first, bubbling outward,
in so profound a moment, we all look forward

Capitulation---Poetry Thursday

Journeying beyond experiences
gladly I surrender
into your eyes. They embrace
me without touching
any single part of me,
closed as they are but open
within the mind, for me,
receptive of my thoughts;

folding me into their
softness of gaze,
beholding my feelings
endearingly to their vision.
Glowingly melting the ice
within my textured heart,
mending it magically,
no markings visible as if never broken.

Gratefully I nudge my way
into your arms, wishing for
eternal home there,
sensing strength in your fragile being.
Vulnerability does not
bother me any more,
knowing I am safe with you.
Sense of completeness

hitherto unknown, engulfs me.
Burrowing myself deeper
I let go of my whole
being into your keeping.
You wordlessly open your eyes.
Mysterious depths take me
in. Pollinating each other
for an intense divine union.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another book from my summer reading.

Please do read my review of "The Constant Gardener by John le Carré" whenever you have time and give your opinions. Those are always welcome!

Powered----Sonnet----Poetry Thursday

I did not get out the map (rivers) for Poetry Thursday as suggested. I wrote a Petrarchan Sonnet (abba cddc effe gg) taking the prompt into a different way. It is but a rough draft.

Powered---Sonnet

Meandering wildly, water from river is directed
to collect at one place. To bestow it with a sense
of purpose, functional for our advance. Hence
opting for highest summit, making it to be fated.

Applying its inherent energy, tapping the source
for human consumption, life’s force- thus water
fulfils all our desires. Thence fore, streaming river
is restrained with our industry; changing its course-

falling forcefully from the high altitude, it flows
downhill with a velocity of such colossal force
out of which is, generated so much of horse-
power of electricity, helping technology grow

within the world, we live in. Meticulously to hilt,
enhancing lives of people; cities are, thus built.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At some places, water turbines are still used to produce electricity. I didn't want to describe the physics of it, as I don't intend for the sonnet to be technical. I prefer to write structured poetry taking in the modern aspect of our lives.

Click for more flows in the river...

Embalmed-------Poetry Thursday

Since my summer vacations started, I have been reading and writing a lot. My muse seems overactive at times. I don't say that I am churning out master pieces. Such times are rare when one writes and writes. I am reading too. In those 23 days, I have finished 12 books. I wrote reviews for a few too. I will not write for all that I read. I still got a LONG list, intend to finish that and keep adding to it as I go along. Posted a book review for Zoya's Story: An Afghan Woman's Struggle for Freedom. All are welcome to read that.

Now back to poetry. No structured poetry for some time to come. I think I have had my fill of that. It feels good to be back to free verse!

This one is for imagined dialogue for poems. Here a mummy is talking back to an elated archaeologist. I do not think it follows the prompt strictly.

Embalmed

“Long way from home,
hours turned to years,
digging this dump.
Finally, I find
rows and rows
of hitherto
unknown mummies.
It was what I needed
to be renowned.”

“Cutting so deep,
your words offend.
My master died,
I was just a slave.
Wherever he went,
I abided by.
One day I was alive,
next day dead;
unaware,
what killed me.
My entrails opened.
Cleaned. Sewed.
Embalmed.
Hundreds of us
followed him to
his grave.
Elation you feel,
overlooking our
blazing soul.
I wonder why."

.........................................
Read more dialogues...

Osculate

your kiss is melting
the chocolate in my mouth-
your tongue sweep for tiny pieces
entangled between my teeth.

my teeth try to bite yours-
my tongue wants to throw the
intruder out which is bent on
stealing the sweetness.

traitor like, those crevices
open up, letting you rob
each single molecule of
those aching flavours.

i am left with tasting it
from yours, tongues
enmeshed fighting for
a bigger share.

Nowhere Land-----sonnet-----Poetry Thursday

Random Promt Generator provided the boldly italized words after refreshing a few times as per their prompt, meet the randomizer . I wrote a petrachan sonnet using the same. Again a rough draft...:)

Nowhere Land---Sonnet


all plans gone awry, he was lost in nowhere
land. his eyes spanned but could not hold
varied, vastness of unknown space; never told
by anyone; unrecognisable by those out there.

tribulations of his folly, he had himself to bear
nothingness in darkness, made his heart go cold.
ventured he did into serrated land, with so bold
mind, all miseries forgotten in his demeanour.

each miniscule particle of sand in the desert
pierced like needle into sensitive skin; barrage
of it spiralled upwards towards the azure sky.

despite adversity, his optimist thinking- just
saved him from further doom, some strange
force showed him way out, for him to say bye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Click to meet more randomizer poetry...