| CARVIEW |
Did
we make
it to the
newspapers for
the night we did not sleep being busy
tracing hieroglyphics on bare backs
fingers dipped in
passion play
amour
fou
Written for Sadje’s wdys and David’s W3, where POW, Svenja, invites ud to write a double tetractys.
I am falling, falling…
seems like a free fall
but I never touch the ground
as if an abyss
has annihilated all that was
afloat in amorphous shadows
the sunless solipsistic skies
smother me, suffocate me
scratching at nothingness
I enter a misaligned maze
meander meaninglessly
muttering coherently
the maze morphs into a hall
an examination hall and I
stare blankly at my blank sheet
suddenly I am flying, soaring
weightless, light as a cloud
and settle in my mom’s lap
when I wake up, weary and tired
my hands are warm.
Written for dVerse poetics, hosted by Sanaa: “For today’s Poetics, I would like you to write a poem that interprets a dream. It can be about falling— where falling is not fear, but release. Let gravity feel like permission. What did you finally stop holding onto?”
As a teenager I often dreamt of falling. These days my sleep is fragmented so I hardly remember my dreams.
Sharing at dVerse OLN being hosted by Grace.
That feeling of unbelonging
that slow unraveling stitch by stitch
that trip to the edge; hanging in limbo
stripped of choices, lost in the noise
scattered thoughts scrambling for a meaning
my voice unable to make itself heard
is healing human touch still a dream?
Written for dVerse Quadrille Monday. I am the host today and we are writing a poem of exactly 44 words including the word trip. Come, join us.
Memories shaped before dissent matures
Notebooks gathering doodles, doubts, verses
Once full, pages bring realizations
Patterns trace limits of permitted thought
David (The Skeptic’s Kaddish)
The indoctrination starts quite early
small, unobtrusive gestures. Inflection
barely perceptible, one eyebrow raised
gradual but constant whittling away
of her confidence, her personality
bewildered, docile new bride, her soul pure
tries to fit in, please all, forgetting self
follows their way, his ways especially
accepting her fate she quietly demures
memories shaped before dissent matures
dies a bit everyday, yet soldiers on
first for her parents then for her children
cracks never visible on the surface
the turbulence within raging for a
release. The depraved demon of despair
so cunningly coaxes and coerces
but to keep at bay thoughts suicidal
she pours her shattered heart in words hidden
clings to sanity despite asperses
notebooks gathering doodles, doubts, verses
verses; vacuous, vapid and venting
in the beginning. Slowly unfurling now
evolving into battle cries of freedom
no mean insidious innuendos
can any how weaken or kill her spirit
her songs did ring out as ululations
not mourning but quietly resolving
her desire to own her self, her honour
confidence replacing all frustrations
once full pages bring realizations
she didn’t pick up fights nor run away
from them; firmly asserted her intent
she wouldn’t be walked over nor talked down to
articulating everything she felt
no longer silent, no longer bowing
her words had taught battles need to be fought
she won’t ever let her kids suffer her fate
breaking the cycle, breaking all patterns
in the minds of her children she did wrought;
patterns trace limits of permitted thought.
Written for dVerse poetics Tuesday. Our host, Björn, invites us to try our hand at the Spanish form “Glosa”. The form consists of four borrowed lines from your poem (the cabreza) of choice and four stanzas of ten lines where the last line of each stanza is a line from the cabreza. There is no requirement on the meter other than it should not be too different from the borrowed poem. There is only one other requirement and that is that in the glosa line 6 and 9 should rhyme with the borrowed line.
I have borrowed lines from one of David’s poems that he wrote in response to dVerse prompt. Most of you are familiar with David’s poems as he regularly responds to dVerse prompts. He is not only an exceptional poet, he also is one of the reasons that WordPress seems like family. I doff my hat to his inspring work.
Life stretches barren and desolate, desert-like
a long awaited special delivery
a window to the world long abandoned
cocooned in self-imposed solitude
craving connection but not company
hoping the delivery man doesn’t miss the road sign in the shifting sands.
Written for Sadje’s wdys and David’s W3 to Nolcha’s prompt to write a Cherita.
There was no escaping the frigid fingers of frost
that had crept in our wretched relationship
we trudged the long road to nowhere
anehdonia settling on us like a shabby shroud
so we parted with a promise
to meet where the earth raises hands in supplication
where the sun peeps out of the embrace of clouds
beyond the ideas of what is wrong or right
somewhere on a grassy knoll
we would meet and
since the world is too full of things to talk about
we would lie in silence listening to our souls
Written for Sadje’s wdys.
Draped in the dark shades of despair
sitting in the lap of morose melancholy
free falling through a fold of time
she knows no joy
but
stubborn memories
of enchanted times sashay saucily
and a reluctant half-smile dangles
from the corner of her lips.
Written for dVerse Quadrille Monday. De, our host today, invites us to write a poem of exactly 44 words including the word smile in it.
A poem, like needlework demands dexterity
basting is the first step in
creating a draft that requires
due diligence and rigour to
embellish pretty posies of poesies
from a thimbleful of words
gatheting motley momentary musings
hoping that the heart and mind work
in tandem to create something that
judges not but is teeming with whys, hows and whats
keeping in mind all the time the rhythm, the flow
lacing myriad emotions with
meter and metaphors
nixing at outset highfalutin words
obedience to rules never a compulsion
pursuing prolificity or purity, that is the
question one must ask self.
rhyming rawness of life or
sewing similes in stanzas or
trying to tessellate a tapestry of words
unique from others, is not easy
verses; porous and palpable, quiet yet roaring! But
will the words hold up to light, will they find the
xanadu of poetic bliss?
yet yielding to that wordlessness of words brings
zenlike calm and contentment.
Written for dVerse MTB. Our host, Laura, invites us to write an abecedarian.
At dusk, peace stood pensive and forlorn
head bowed, heart battered, soul crushed
the sea a silent witness to her struggles
the sands her loneliness did mourn
No hands to hold, nobody to embrace
shunned by the power-drunk and their lackeys
could she let the world fall apart
maybe tired experience should be replaced
At dawn, hope is bright-eyed but shy
as she knocks timidly at the first door she comes across
all she needs is a toehold in any which doorway
she will find room to make home by and by.
Written for Sadje’s wdys.
Wishing all of you a very happy new year!
It’s a circus out there
clowns have taken over this world
herding us like caged animals
we perform at their command
sometimes we sit quiet
sometimes we jump through hoops
sometimes we are mere ornaments
to make them look good
this world is in chaos
it’s a circus out there.
Written for Sadje’s wdys.
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