I had been watching a total stranger drinking a milk shake, all the while thinking and shaking his head. He got up with a jerky movement as if he saw someone and left just as quickly. Inspired by the whole episode, I wrote this Pantoum. Another form of structured poetry. It has not come out very well but what the hell! I am still posting it here. Feel free to to critique it.
Double Vision
coolly drinking his spiked milk shake
he contemplates at nothing specific
swirling his glass, he does a double take
wiping his eyes, deeming it as a trick
he contemplates at nothing specific
biting his nails, scratching his head
wiping his eyes, deeming it as a trick
few of his doubts needing to be shed
biting his nails, scratching his head
he talks aloud to no one particular
few of his doubts needing to be shed
holding his glass, he asks for a regular
he talks aloud to no one particular
hearing himself talk like a moron
holding his glass, he asks for a regular
tastes it again, bitter feelings gone
hearing himself talk like a moron
checks himself & before he gets up
tastes it again, bitter feelings gone
asks for a cigar, takes in a long puff
checks himself & before he gets up
coolly drinking his spiked milk shake
asks for a cigar, takes in a long puff
swirling his glass, he does a double take?
Monday, 14 May 2007
Saturday, 12 May 2007
Another Chance----Sunday Scribblings
This week's prompt for Sunday Scribblings is Second chance. All of us desire for a second chance at one time or the other. We say, if only I had done this way…
If only, I get another chance...
This one goes for my dad. Thanks dad, wherever you are! I write the following for you in a slightly ironic note…
Second Chance
words rolling of my tongue never did impress you,
all you wished for me- laws and postulates to pursue.
nothing could compare with purest of pure sciences,
with my rebellion streak, I led you to merry dances.
With your persuasive best, you made me complete
my master’s degree in chemistry. I ended up replete
with valency, double bonds and kekule structures-
leaving out Chaucer, Milton, Bronte, Shakespeare
out of my periphery but only for little short while.
as soon I could, I got back without any further trial.
that previous degree was taken to fulfil your goal,
masters in English literature overwhelmed my soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I have said ad nauseam, after I passed out from grade 12 with very good marks, I wanted to pursue English Literature. I was good at it; I loved to read and loved to articulate. (Writing came much later unless you consider groovy essays and various synopses). Therefore, for me that was the natural progression. There was a major obstacle. I had not envisaged that at all. When I told my dad, he was very much against it. He wanted me to study Mathematics or pure sciences. No Biology stream either. Mathematics, Physics or Chemistry. As simple as that. I had the choice of choosing one from these three. Come to think of it, there was no choice at all. I did not want to study Mathematics and Physics was kind of God for me. No one can study God.
I was left with Chemistry. I protested but for no avail. Therefore, I ended up completing my bachelor’s degree. After I completed that, he told me it would take only two more years to get my PG degree. This time too I did his bidding. I finished a teaching degree also, after that. As soon I passed out, I landed up as a teacher…a Mathematics teacher…I had studied Mathematics in my bachelors degree along with Physics. Those were ancillary subjects, chemistry being the main one.
After a few years of working, I enrolled myself for a PG degree in English and completed it. Science students can opt for most humanities subjects. My dad was somewhat happy after I finished my PG degree in English too.
I had this grudge against him for a long time that he didn't let me pursue English Literature right from the beginning. After I finished my second PG, I realised that if I had done English in the first place, I wouldn’t be holding two masters degrees in, as varied subjects as Chemistry and English. Maybe I would have regretted that at some stage. Now I do not regret anything. I am grateful to my dad who is no more. I did get a second chance.
It does not seem ironical anymore that I studied Chemistry, teach Mathematics and love English literature.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More second chances..
If only, I get another chance...
This one goes for my dad. Thanks dad, wherever you are! I write the following for you in a slightly ironic note…
Second Chance
words rolling of my tongue never did impress you,
all you wished for me- laws and postulates to pursue.
nothing could compare with purest of pure sciences,
with my rebellion streak, I led you to merry dances.
With your persuasive best, you made me complete
my master’s degree in chemistry. I ended up replete
with valency, double bonds and kekule structures-
leaving out Chaucer, Milton, Bronte, Shakespeare
out of my periphery but only for little short while.
as soon I could, I got back without any further trial.
that previous degree was taken to fulfil your goal,
masters in English literature overwhelmed my soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I have said ad nauseam, after I passed out from grade 12 with very good marks, I wanted to pursue English Literature. I was good at it; I loved to read and loved to articulate. (Writing came much later unless you consider groovy essays and various synopses). Therefore, for me that was the natural progression. There was a major obstacle. I had not envisaged that at all. When I told my dad, he was very much against it. He wanted me to study Mathematics or pure sciences. No Biology stream either. Mathematics, Physics or Chemistry. As simple as that. I had the choice of choosing one from these three. Come to think of it, there was no choice at all. I did not want to study Mathematics and Physics was kind of God for me. No one can study God.
I was left with Chemistry. I protested but for no avail. Therefore, I ended up completing my bachelor’s degree. After I completed that, he told me it would take only two more years to get my PG degree. This time too I did his bidding. I finished a teaching degree also, after that. As soon I passed out, I landed up as a teacher…a Mathematics teacher…I had studied Mathematics in my bachelors degree along with Physics. Those were ancillary subjects, chemistry being the main one.
After a few years of working, I enrolled myself for a PG degree in English and completed it. Science students can opt for most humanities subjects. My dad was somewhat happy after I finished my PG degree in English too.
I had this grudge against him for a long time that he didn't let me pursue English Literature right from the beginning. After I finished my second PG, I realised that if I had done English in the first place, I wouldn’t be holding two masters degrees in, as varied subjects as Chemistry and English. Maybe I would have regretted that at some stage. Now I do not regret anything. I am grateful to my dad who is no more. I did get a second chance.
It does not seem ironical anymore that I studied Chemistry, teach Mathematics and love English literature.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More second chances..
Thursday, 10 May 2007
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...
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
Patterned Dreams---terzanelle
I have written a terzanelle here. A terzanelle is a poetry form which is a combination of the villanelle and the terza rima. It is nineteen lines total, with five triplets and a concluding quatrain.
I drive myself nuts trying new structures. Here I wrote about dreams being woven into clothes. All are welcome to critique it.
Patterned Dreams
in and out, dreams form in beautiful patterns
tail of silken thread following it faithfully
coloured and hued, takes twists and turns
within clothes enhancing it luminously
weaving aspirations of life’s thoughts
tail of silken thread following it faithfully
vacuum gone taking with it the draughts-
basted out, building up with great strength
weaving aspirations of life’s thoughts
needle stitches in dreams at some length
on the trousseau of the lovely bride, tightly
basting in, building up with great strength
embroidered in are the wishes into lovely
accouterments desired, along with hopes
on the trousseau of the lovely bride. tightly
held emotions, feelings needing to cope.
in and out, dreams form in beautiful patterns-
accuoterments desired along with hopes;
coloured and hued, taking twists and turns.
I drive myself nuts trying new structures. Here I wrote about dreams being woven into clothes. All are welcome to critique it.
Patterned Dreams
in and out, dreams form in beautiful patterns
tail of silken thread following it faithfully
coloured and hued, takes twists and turns
within clothes enhancing it luminously
weaving aspirations of life’s thoughts
tail of silken thread following it faithfully
vacuum gone taking with it the draughts-
basted out, building up with great strength
weaving aspirations of life’s thoughts
needle stitches in dreams at some length
on the trousseau of the lovely bride, tightly
basting in, building up with great strength
embroidered in are the wishes into lovely
accouterments desired, along with hopes
on the trousseau of the lovely bride. tightly
held emotions, feelings needing to cope.
in and out, dreams form in beautiful patterns-
accuoterments desired along with hopes;
coloured and hued, taking twists and turns.
Saturday, 5 May 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, 3 May 2007
Inertia----Villanelle---Poetry Thursday
This week, Poetry Thursday gave us the option of posting anything we liked, which is given as it's a free day. I almost did not write anything but finally wrote what I had been feeling all day today. State of Inertia. We all face it and come through. I too came through. Maybe writing it down helped. I have tackled it in the form of a villanelle. I am kind of enamoured by the structure after detesting it for so long!!
I post my first draft here. I will edit it soon. Or not if I don't want to.
Inertia
With not so much as a movement of my eyes
I stare unseeingly at nothing in particular,
words are passing back and forth like dice.
Images focus, get blurred, answering whys
gets so tough. Thoughts cease, get dipolar,
with not so much as a movement of my eyes.
All seem to be in a perpetual motion, surprise
is still not something I feel, more of an insular.
Words are passing back and forth like dice.
Stillness within the mind, enhanced, demise
of rationality, disorder of reflection registers.
With not so much as a movement of my eyes,
I contemplate ending the state of limbo; “unwise
decision,” tells me my inner self. Now spectacular
words are passing back and forth like dice.
Inertia of thoughts stops suddenly- goodbyes
exchanged. I am yet again amazed, stellular;
with not so much as a movement of my eyes;
words are passing back and forth like dice!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read more-a thursday, free day...
I post my first draft here. I will edit it soon. Or not if I don't want to.
Inertia
With not so much as a movement of my eyes
I stare unseeingly at nothing in particular,
words are passing back and forth like dice.
Images focus, get blurred, answering whys
gets so tough. Thoughts cease, get dipolar,
with not so much as a movement of my eyes.
All seem to be in a perpetual motion, surprise
is still not something I feel, more of an insular.
Words are passing back and forth like dice.
Stillness within the mind, enhanced, demise
of rationality, disorder of reflection registers.
With not so much as a movement of my eyes,
I contemplate ending the state of limbo; “unwise
decision,” tells me my inner self. Now spectacular
words are passing back and forth like dice.
Inertia of thoughts stops suddenly- goodbyes
exchanged. I am yet again amazed, stellular;
with not so much as a movement of my eyes;
words are passing back and forth like dice!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read more-a thursday, free day...
Tuesday, 1 May 2007
Never Enough
This is one of my rare love poems. I thought I should kick start the month of May by writing one! I have deliberately left it incomplete. Just the way love is never complete. There is always that craving for more...and more...
Never Enough
indescribable, beyond comprehension-
my mind reaches out in desperation
love gushes, like rains going on for days
my heart attuned to yours in everyway-
warmth of your love encompasses; transcends.
my craving for you has no beginning, no end.
depth of those feelings cannot be fathomed,
this state of being is nothing I have known.
come to me, listen to my heart and mind call;
your presence would soothe my restless soul.
hold so close that you brand yourself on me-
I drown myself in you as in bottomless sea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never Enough
indescribable, beyond comprehension-
my mind reaches out in desperation
love gushes, like rains going on for days
my heart attuned to yours in everyway-
warmth of your love encompasses; transcends.
my craving for you has no beginning, no end.
depth of those feelings cannot be fathomed,
this state of being is nothing I have known.
come to me, listen to my heart and mind call;
your presence would soothe my restless soul.
hold so close that you brand yourself on me-
I drown myself in you as in bottomless sea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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