Because I love you Puchhu...

            My lovely Puchhu.
               I loved you, and I will
            love you always. Promise.

 You are in my mind, always will be.

Jumping, wagging your tail, licking,

you taught me what no one would,

 what no one could. Jumping up the

     pane, whining for food, ears in curly

      folds, licking my whole being, always.
                           It is true that you were an
                           angel, halo intact, dropped

                            from heaven, for only me.

                            You were my light, bright.

                                 You were my soul, whole.  
       You were my silent prayer, you still are.
         You were my strength. You were my joy.
                                    You were my classy peer.
                                    You were my question. You
                                     were my answer, always are.
                 You were mine, you will always be. I vow.
                    You were my constant, you will always be.

                                          You were my  poetry, my story.
                                             You were my friend, a very dear 
                                                 friend. You will always be. Truly.
                                                   You were stray, but were here to stay.
                                                Why did you leave me so alone? Did
                                                    I not appease you to the bone? I tried  
                                                   to. I wish I had rolled on the floor with
                                                      you. I wish I had known your language, 
                                                    to talk,  to smile, to laugh, to cry. I wish 
                                                      I were you- A soul so pure, a heart ever so
                                                       clean, paws ever dirty. I wish I could jump,
                                                   wag my tail, return your wet kisses, with 
                                                   love, love so great that would surpass
                                                  any in this big, bad world. I
                                                                                      miss 
                                                                          you 
                                                      Puchhu, I    
                        always, always will.                       

* Lost her about 2 weeks back. Dedicated to the ever loving her. I tried to compose a concrete poem that would mimic the way she slept, stretching her whole body. I failed miserably.

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Goodbye

Source: WikimediaCommons

A goodbye isn't always sad,

To better things, some more will add,

Which will make us happy and glad.

*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #30

*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: "Today, as befits the final poem of NaPoWriMo, I challenge you to write a poem of farewell. It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever — like I said, NaPoWriMo will be back again next year. If you need a little inspiration, you might find some in perusing this selection of goodbye-and-good-luck poems from the Poetry Foundation website." 

*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won't be disappointed.

http://andiwrite.com/ – Hrishikesh

http://janakinagaraj.com/ - Janaki

http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala

http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan

http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ - Naina

http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya

http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ - Preeti

http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu

http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan

http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti

http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay

Continue

Life - a poem?

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Life is a poem,

made up of a sea of tears; it is

an ugly sight, a silent scream,

a little bit salty, smelling a

little rotten, the touch of a 

thorn.

Life is a poem where

you can touch the 

smell, just like

Brad could touch 

his wife's perfume that lay

in her grave in Irvine.

Life is a poem,

made up of a sea of tears,

of happiness, smelling 

like freshly ground chutney - a

 little sweet, a little tangy,

a lot spicy.

Life is a poem,

of "all izzzz well".

Like a fierce  lion of bravery,

like a cold, dreadful sun,

like Brad eating a pizza

with chopsticks.

Life is a poem,

where Pooh dances to

the tunes of a 

ripped off Bollywood

number in the 

everlasting rain of Oregon.

Life is a poem,

where the earth 

will begin to move

 around the sun a lot 

faster than it does 

now. 

Life is a poem

like a sight,

a beautiful sight of 

a lovely crow

perched on a tree,

an ugly tree.

Life is a poem,

where Muchas gracias

overplays sorry. Like a

dog riding a big brown 

horse. Like a plant 

singing a happy tune.

Life -  a poem, or a prose, or a poetic prose?

*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #29

*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: "This may remind you a bit of the “New York School” recipe, but this prompt has been around for a long time. I remember using it in a college poetry class, and loving the result. It really forces you into details, and to work on “conducting” the poem as it grows, instead of trying to force the poem to be one thing or another in particular. The prompt is called the “Twenty Little Poetry Projects,” and was originally developed by Jim Simmerman. And here are the twenty little projects themselves — the challenge is to use them all in one poem:

1. Begin the poem with a metaphor.
2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.
19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).

20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem." 

*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won't be disappointed.

http://andiwrite.com/ – Hrishikesh

http://janakinagaraj.com/ - Janaki

http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala

http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan

http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ - Naina

http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya

http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ - Preeti

http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu

http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan

http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti

http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay

Continue

Sidewalk

Source : NaPoWriMo website, Day 27

Covered in white,

Not a man in sight,

I am happy with delight,

Today, I suffer no plight,

Old footsteps turn light,

I, the sidewalk, lay happily quiet.

*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #27

*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: " Our early-bird prompt this year (on March 31) was an ekphrastic poem. This is something similar — a poem written from a photograph."

*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won't be disappointed.

http://andiwrite.com/ – Hrishikesh

http://janakinagaraj.com/ - Janaki

http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala

http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan

http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ - Naina

http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya

http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ - Preeti

http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu

http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan

http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti

http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay

Continue

The Wall!

Source: Wikimedia Commons

I have spent my days with you, inside you.

You stare at me, blank, but I have to leave you.

You have been my company during the days,

that were red and some were blue.

You are white and so you will remain.

Not a mark on your pure white soul.

I will miss you, my bedroom wall.

For you have heard me laugh and heard me bawl.

*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #24

*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: "to write a poem that features walls, bricks, stones, arches, or the like. If that sounds a bit hard, remember that one of Robert Frost’s most famous poems was about a wall." 

*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won't be disappointed.

http://andiwrite.com/ – Hrishikesh

http://janakinagaraj.com/ - Janaki

http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala

http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan

http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ - Naina

http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya

http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ - Preeti

http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu

http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan

http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti

http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay

Continue

Charging Bull

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Jimmy Joe, my friend, 

walked through the Wall Street,

thinking of the years he had spent minting

money, that he never needed. He let out a 

sigh, slid on ice and crumpled down on the 

ground like an old sack. Out from his 

pocket, came a weed. He smoked a 

pot, blew into his mouth-organ a sad song

that carried his past, that carried his present,

and his future. His life had shown him the middle finger,

for he had given it a fuck. He now wandered

aimlessly, thinking history will repeat itself

and he will be charging, sitting on the bull

that had been fed on money and not on

the love that was now, not his. He

had loved his wife, she was no Marilyn Monroe,

she had left him for another, 

when his shares came crashing down.

He was down in the dumps, but, even dumps 

wouldn't take him, for, he had rejected them once.

He thought money could buy him happiness,

and it did, for sometime. But, he lost his happiness

and he lost his money, because, he forgot to be a human,

he forgot to be humane!

*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #21

*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: "to write a “New York School” poem using the recipe found here. The New York School is the name by which a group of poets that all lived in New York in the 1950s and 1960s. The most well-known members are Frank O’Hara, John Ashbery, and Kenneth Koch. Their poems are actually very different from one another, but many “New York School” poems display a sort of conversational tone, references to friends and to places in and around New York, humor, inclusion of pop culture, and a sense of the importance of art (visual, poetic, and otherwise). Here’s a fairly representative example.
In following the recipe, you can include as many (or as few) of the listed elements as you wish." 

*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won't be disappointed.

http://andiwrite.com/ – Hrishikesh

http://janakinagaraj.com/ - Janaki

http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala

http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan

http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ - Naina

http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya

http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ - Preeti

http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu

http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan

http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti

http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay

Continue