ocean within the mind

as if eternally etched there, constant is but
moving around, breaking into serrated edges
of the brain, vastness of those thoughts just

about turn around, hitting at the wedges
of time already passed, nonetheless effect
the convoluted shells in the mind’s ledge-

each crevice fills leaving no space. reflects
of the cogitation left behind, still have power
to mar. conquering the mind does not affect

the spirit, as untamed as it can be, towers
over, looking down with disdain at weakness
of consciousness. bottomless psyche showers

more of intellect, energizing the body. bleakness
disappears, like anything dropped into the ocean
is accepted, returned in some other way, uniqueness

retained yet different. slightest of change within, 
understanding with wisdom to be calmly serene. 

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

It was a pleasure to write a terza rima after a VERY long time.....

intangibles

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?

Terza Rima: psychedelic pajamas

those summer months added to woes-
quenching that thirst, eating until sate,
nothing much to do in hunger’s throes.

enhanced girth cannot be taken as fate;
image faithfully mirrored brings lows-
sense of unworthiness has added to hate.

much loved printed, psychedelic pajamas
do not fit any more. determined I yank
those up with a huff, looking like a llama.

jolted out by that representation akin a tank-
pictures in my mind move in slowly; drama
enacted of other unknown horrors. frank

self-appraisal does yield results. vigorously
I start exercise regime. one hour jogging,
half hour yoga, dietary habits rigorously

changed. with good metabolism, dogging
is not too bad. better that than self-flogging!

psychedelic pajamas-----terza rima----3WW

Determined
Pajamas
Yield

psychedelic pajamas

those summer months added to woes-
quenching that thirst, eating until sate,
nothing much to do in hunger’s throes.

enhanced girth cannot be taken as fate;
image faithfully mirrored brings lows-
sense of unworthiness has added to hate.

much loved printed, psychedelic pajamas
do not fit any more. determined I yank
those up with a huff, looking like a llama.

jolted out by that representation akin a tank-
pictures in my mind move in slowly; drama
enacted of other unknown horrors. frank

self-appraisal does yield results. vigorously
i start exercise regime. one hour jogging,
half hour yoga, dietary habits rigorously

changed. with good metabolism, dogging
is not too bad. better that than self-flogging!

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

This is somewhat true-to-account terza rima apart from the pajamas bit...:D

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

Killing the Dead--Terza Rima

I was reading a work of fiction set in 62 AD when Britannia is at war. My pen started to flow and I wrote this. This terza rima is about a Roman slave and her Icenic master....

Killing the Dead

Driving the knife deep, turn it side to side
blood won’t be spilled, tears won’t be shed
to gloat over, to claim as victory of mind.

Numbness has set in as weighty as lead.
Tatters of heart lay on the feet, ignoring
it- go your way. How can one kill the dead

again? Why sense of loss is so foreboding
that it ceases to impinge on. Departs present,
future does not exist, neither past affecting.

cadavers cannot feel, however they resent
mutilation of the spirit. Exposed raw pores
refuse to singe, feeding revulsion- extent

of which not to be quantified. Spurting sores
promise damage, creating extensive mayhem,
however eating away discretely at the spores

well guarded by you. Yet sanity stops bedlam
she recoils, pausing demise, leaving out sham.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: I posted a review of The Bafut Beagles by Gerald Durrell on my Reading Room. A must read book if you have not done so by now. It is not easily available though. I got a collecters piece!

I will post soon the review of "Defy the Eagles by Lynn Bartlett"- a historical romance, from which this post was inspired. Keep checking this space!!

Aftermath----Terza Rima----3WW

I started this as a tale of revenge but I could not develop it the way I wanted to. I am posting it with loose ends or I should say loose middle! The beginning and ending seem right. Critiques are welcome. I need suggestions to get it right.

* Update: I added another stanza and changed it slightly. Hope now it reads better. There is still scope for improvement though.

Aftermath----Terza Rima
.

With precise conduct, he laid down his appliances.
Checking those for umpteenth time, he stealthily
searched & found her. Holding his belief abeyance,

he analysed all that was in front of him. Evidently,
he could not suppress his elation. His endurance
had paid off; he had gained time, planning carefully.

Achieving what he had set out with arrogance
with the exclusion of what others had predictably
said about him. With muted pondering, oblivious

to sense of righteousness, calmly and wordlessly
wiping clean each single thought within his mind,
sliced her with his knife, cutting the flesh effortlessly

as if, he did it every day of his life. The intertwined
fingers, he separated slowly, the matt platinum ring
being only jewellery. Immediately pocketing his find,

closing his eyes to everything, he pulled the string,
hearing it give in with pressure, silent sound of death
at his feet. Enormity of his deed hit him like springs.

He recoiled from himself. Drawing in ragged breath,
he forced the knife brutally into his throat as aftermath.

.......................................................................

PS: Don't forget to check on my book review: Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart.....:D

Consciously Bottomless----Terza Rima----Sunday Scribblings

Sunday Scribblings prompts us to write about ocean.

As I live in Delhi, ocean is only something to dream about in my day-to-day life. Whenever I get a chance, I prefer to go to the sea rather than mountains. Sea beckons me no end. The vastness, the never ending, the bottomless ocean calls out as nothing does. Ocean conjures up mixed thoughts…too many…sometimes those thoughts are indecipherable….merging into each other…The sea can accept anything. It returns that too. In ways, we do not understand. Sea is unconquerable.

Oceans set us free. Oceans humble us. Oceans consume us. There is a beautiful world in there on the ocean beds. Ocean fascinates me no end. I can watch the waves breaking in to rocks for all eternity. Sea reminds me of eternity.

I write the following, comparing the mind with the sea. Both are so different yet the same. One we can see, other we cannot. Depths of both can never be fathomed in our entire existence.

It might appear a little vague to some. As I wrote it only a while back, I am offering it raw and unedited. Nowadays, I think I am on a editing break!

Consciously Bottomless----Terza Rima

as if eternally etched there, constant is but
moving around, breaking into serrated edges
of the brain, vastness of those thoughts just

about turn around, hitting at the wedges
of time already passed, nonetheless effect
the convoluted shells in the mind’s ledge-

each crevice fills leaving no space. reflects
of the cogitation left behind, still have power
to mar. conquering the mind doesn’t affect

the spirit, as untamed as it can be, towers
over, looking down with disdain at weakness
of consciousness. bottomless psyche showers

more of intellect, energizing the body. bleakness
disappears, like anything dropped into the ocean
is accepted, returned in some other way, uniqueness

retained yet different. slightest of change within,
understanding with wisdom to be calmly serene.
......................................................................

More trips to ocean...

Edited Memories-----Terza Rima-----Poetry Thursday

Poetry Thursday asked us to do guerrilla poetry this week. That is, to choose a poem (or two or ten) of our own and print or write it out, find places to leave our poetry for others. For unsuspecting people to read our poetry. Then take pictures, write about their reactions etc etc. I am only partially following it as I found no takers for my poetry other than my poor brothers and they did not know what hit them! I write here the gist of their thoughts which they never expressed but I could read in their minds. I depict my thoughts too at the end of my terza rima.


Edited Memories-----Terza Rima


Writing poetry comes easy for me,
making it read is no feat, most assume
I am wasting my time and should be

pursuing hobbies that consume
less of my time, setting me gratis
of my poetic stuff which they presume

has bloated my head. I need aegis
to save me from further calamity
of hiding under words. My dermis

thickened, trying to avoid adversity
I continue with writing of prosody,
uncaring what others take as insanity

on my part. Anthology of moments nobody
can take away from my edited memories.
The unedited ones in the mind embody

those thoughts filled with ambiguities;
not to be made visible to anyone else
which otherwise are taken as absurdities-

perpetuated by life forces of impulse
so unimaginably true; taken to be false.
................................................................................

Read more Guerrillia Poetry......

Journey within the mind....Sunday Scribblings

Sunday Scribblings prompt was dream journey. Infact on Sunday I was on a real journey. Read the the previous post. I wrote this a short while back as this has been playing in my mind. Again a terza rima. It is tuesday but I still post it as sunday scribblings...:D

...................................................................................................

Journey within the mind

this is something I do not recognize,
although I am taken over by
intense feeling, none to very wise.

thoughts touching you, flying to the sky
rebounding back to me. In trepidation
I accept, look unseeingly with a sigh.

enormity of it registers in conclusion;
leaving me with feelings inexpressible-
my tears streaming with exclusion

of unfathomable emotions, non-analyzable.
journey within my mind continues
taking me to places which feel stable.

in my dreams, in all glory, all its hues-
peace pervading; my mind awaits you.

..........................................................................

Click here for more dream journeys.

Terza Rima---Circling...Poetry Thursday

When Poetry Thursday asked us all to write about the colour red, this was what formed in my mind.

I needed to write this terza rima as I needed to discipline my mind. Lately I have had too many thoughts in my mind. I need to school that and concentrate on mundane stuff. Not easy, I know. So here I go....

Terza rima is a three-line stanza using chain rhyme in the pattern a-b-a, b-c-b, c-d-c, d-e-d. There is no limit to the number of lines, but poems or sections of poems written in terza rima end with either a single line or couplet repeating the rhyme of the middle line of the final tercet. The two possible endings for the example above are d-e-d, e or d-e-d, e-e. There is no set rhythm for terza rima, but in English, iambic pentameters are generally preferred. I follow the rhyming pattern but iambic pentameters go above my head!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terza_rima


The piece I write is what is happening right now with us teachers. Annual examinations are going on. Along with that comes evaluation of answersheets. I have written about the dilemma a teacher faces while evaluation.Some answers are to be read to be believed. They would have got awards for innovative ideas if it was not for the examinations. I don't have time to edit it. So I am posting it here as it is for now. I am not satisfied with the title. So I welcome suggestions for that..

....................................................................

Terza Rima---Circling

looking at those filled answer sheets,
with not much of a space in between;
finding correct responses is no mean feat.

each word to be read, each sentence to be seen
in all that haywire, nothing being decipherable;
unless wading through for what would have been.

nuggets of knowledge if those were but visible
by some magical force hitherto unknown;
to the examiner who by this time trembles

with the prospect of new ideas been thrown;
too bizarre to understand; to fully comprehend,
to be absorbed, assimilated, with a frown.

with resignation , thinking with her head
she takes out her pen, finally circling those red.

...........................................................

For more on the topic, click roses are..

CONFLICT

He lifted her veil, looked at her face
Sleep so deep, lashes so long
Casting shadows on her cheeks like lace

He stared at her with longing so strong
Tenderness and desire fighting within
Wanting her, how can that be wrong?

Mind, heart or body, who was to win?
This deep-seeded need, was that lust?
With all his guts, body wanted him to sin.

Closed his eyes, stopped himself just
From tasting her sweetness while she slept
Keeping distance from her was a must

He walked away not giving in to whim
Would rather wait for her to love him!

Terza rima poem...chk out the rhyming pattern, you can see what I mean. except for the last two lines!