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.

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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...

Phantoms Play----3WW

..............3WW ........... stroke, summer, leave


Phantoms Play

in the middle of the hot summer night,
moon behind the cloud sheds orange light,
dancing fireflies are in a perpetual flight.

tired, harried and hungry I arrive alone,
looking for a place to rest my tired bones.
midst of nowhere, i see a house of stone.

eerie silence permeates the surroundings.
the sudden stroke of the clock enhancing
the hush. massive clouds look seemingly

like phantoms playing without any care.
inside the house, virtually no one to share
hastily i leave, as staying there; I don’t dare!

Radiant Shadows

No dark thoughts but shadows flickering on the wall from an outside source, after I switched off the lights, prompted this.

Radiant Shadows

flames linger
as darkness grows dim-
slumbering
into purple night.

fireflies dance
memories of bliss-.
eyes focus
as images fade.

midnight blue outlines
colours of ignominy-
harshly stabbing
the calm night.

ghosts play
in radiant gloom-
shadows get lost
in the drama enacted.

walls thus bereft,
spookily call out
lingering flames,
to wake up again.

Take it easy-----Sunday Scribblings

Simple exercise by Sunday Scribblings

don’t let ripples
strip down your scruples.
with certain principles,
keep your life simple.

I can't get more simple than that!

Simple. Pure and Simple. This word has a depth of meaning in its simplicity. Such a beautiful word for such a complex world. For some reason, I feel the world we live in is not as complex or complicated as we make it out to be. We want everything should be intricate. We secretly desire for things to be difficult. That gives us a sense of power when we get around to it. Sometimes the seemingly complicated of problems have very simplistic solutions. I for one, tackle anything in a very straightforward manner. I sit down, think and try to find easy solutions. One can achieve that with practical and rational thinking. There is always pragmatic way out to any predicament, which might seem tough in the initial glance.

I am not going to make this post convoluted by taking on the problems of the world. Let the political leaders goof up as best they can. We are used to it. We will pick up the pieces.

I will write here what I do best, about penning poetry. I mostly write in simple, lucid language. I want that all who read my poetry should understand it. Imagery and metaphors can be shown by simple words too. I try to write that way. Sometimes I do resort to melodrama but what is life without a bit of that!

I know, I am rambling here with seemingly disjointed thoughts. After all, it is MY blog! As per dictate, I am keeping this post simple. I cannot go on writing about simple living and high thinking kind of stuff. Those sound clichés. I do think high. Although as for as simple living is concerned, I enjoy my comforts. What the hell, I earn it! So much for being simple…

Tough really...

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More simple stuff...

Album----3WW

I had written this sometime back. I changed it a bit to post for 3WW.

Album

Excuse me, I want no part.
Rather be anywhere else,
watching the world pass by.
Who wants to look
into a folder
noshed by a filthy grief-
nurtured by festers of hate?

As for assorted stamps,
you classify the lot.

guess, you still have place
in that record of yours.
You will fill each page
and add some more-
you will collect pessimism
in that imaginary album
of convenience,
for eternity to come.

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."

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Read more dialogues...

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.

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