Words Heal

Day-26

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: Today, we challenge you to write your own ars poetica, giving the reader some insight into what keeps you writing poetry, or what you think poetry should do.

                                                                           pic: sunita

The deep gorge inked with pain

Brings to the surface an array of words

Woven, silken threads of wants and desires

The pen gets dipped in their fluid moments

One by one, floating on the abyss of lost time

Picking up the threads of self-conscious efforts

Writing the emotions on a blank canvas helps

To erase all the accumulated dark secrets.

Words are like flowers, fragrant and healing

It doesn't need any meter, style, rhyme, or rhythm

Poetry brings peace, a catharsis to a restless heart.

Participating in:  NaPoWriMo-2026

The Seashells

 Day-25

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: In her poem, “The Apple Tree in Blossom,” Melissa Kwasny strings together several fantastical metaphors for the apple tree, before shifting into exclamations, definitions, and a series of nimble, tonal shifts – and seeming changes in topic – before circling around back to the apple tree. Today’s challenge asks you to write your own poem in which you use at least three metaphors for a single thing, include an exclamation, ruminate on the definition of a word, and come back in the closing line to the image or idea with which you opened the poem.

                                                                          pic: sunita

On the shore

of the western coast, cocooned, is

the heart of a mermaid, yearning between

Two worlds, each day a memory.

The sunrise and the sunset bring home,

all that was dear and very close.

The carefree life of a bohemian.The raptures of

the safe, affectionate, motherly caress of sunrays.

The sand, soft velvet under the feet, and the flowy,

verdant palms, a canopy of abundant love.

The air breathed was the elixir of life,

the fragrance of the sea and the waves,

a gossamer blanket of peace.

In her heart lies the vastness of the sea,

In her lies the saltiness of the coast. What a blissful feeling!

She carries the pieces of that existence

throughout the journey of sustenance.

Seashells, oystershells, and the conch.

The musical sound of the conch

echoes, the fragrance of her home.

As children, they always gathered seashells.

A huge collection of colorful memories.

Now, it is a treasure trove.

How she longs for those days on the shore!

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

Faith

 Day-24

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: In her poem, “The Flying Nightdress,” Mandakranta Sen describes something fantastical and strange that occurs while the rest of the world is asleep. The imagery of the poem is dreamlike, but the situation it describes is otherwise presented quite straightforwardly. Today, we challenge you to write your own poem that takes place at night, and describes something magical or strange that happens but that no one is awake (or around) to notice.

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as the crackers

sound faded

in the midnight oil

the streets wore

a look of eerieness

dogs shivered

under the cars

the birds and their

nests burned to death

trees shrivelled

for one's celebration

others suffered

the earth smogged and

moaned in the midst 

after the endless chaos 

the brick walls

dangled with

twinkling stars

she walked

slowly towards

each house

marked them

with her talons

tasted blood

on their doorsteps

with her tongue

Lakshmi was furious.

Participating in : NaPoWriMo-2026

Her Muse

 Day-23

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: Today’s prompt takes its inspiration from Kiki Petrosino’s loose villanelle, “Nursery.” Try your hand today at your own take on a villanelle, and have the poem end on a question.

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Between the clouds and the water

Lies the world of a dreamer

Where her dreams walk with the muse

In the light of day, and at night

Moves the muse of her thoughts

Between the clouds and the water

Sometimes poetry hides

Sometimes poetry sings

Where her dreams walk with the muse

There are many shades

Suffixed and prefixed

Between the clouds and the water

Words chase the hope

In the waning of seasons

Where her dreams walk with the muse

Serenading, sunrise, and sunset

Poetry gives her life, it seems

Between the clouds and the water

Can her dreams walk with the muse?

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

The unwanted guest

 Day-22

 NaPoWriMo-2026

 Prompt: Jaswinder Bolina’s poem “Mood Ring” imagines the speaker as both himself and an interior being (who happens to take the form of a small donkey). It’s quite silly . . . and not silly at the same time. A sort of “serious fun.” Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem in which the speaker is in dialogue with him or herself.

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It came,
Unnoticed, stealth
Invader with sharp claws
Carrying the tools of death.

I noticed the signs

Shadowing through 

"Hey, who are you?"

Why are you here?'

It looked in my face

and laughed loudly

"I am inside you

controlling your cells

Have you seen

How are they multiplying?"

Dark it was
But, what force!
Left gasping for breath
Like a marauder in pursuit!

I took courage

and faced the demon

"I am healthy and fine.

You are wasting your time."

Aah! the look on its face

, smirkingly "Hahahaha

Check your skin

Yellowed and shrivelled.

I am the commander of

that body of yours.

You cannot escape from me.

Even your prayers cannot

erase my chances of 

controlling you."

Pain... What audacity!

Who can fight against it?
The chemical composition
Or the spiritual affiliation
The sheer myth of life in shreds!

It came,
Dangling on heartbeat
Twisting and gripping
At its own will.

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

What a name!

 Day-21

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: In your poem for today, we challenge you to write your own poem in which you muse on your name and nicknames you’ve been given or, if you like, the name and nicknames for an animal, plant, or place. For example, I’ve always been amused at the fact that red trillium (a rather pretty wildflower that grows in the woods near my house) has several other common names, including the bizarre “stinking benjamin.” The plant grows very short and close to the ground, so I’ve never actually leaned over far enough to get a whiff and see how merited that sobriquet is!

                                                                        watercolor...sunita

The birthday song 

"Happy birthday, Sunita

Happy birthday to you."

made me crawl into a rathole.

Every year, the movie song

rolled on every tongue

maybe , my father was

enmoured with the heroine

for naming me so.

A civilized name underwent 

mutilation to mutation

through the decades.

Maa bellowing from the doorsteps

Sunit! sunit! sunit!

to run the errands.

Baba calling beta, beta,

for being the eldest.

In school, the teacher 

rolled his tongue, 

changing every syllable

to his choice. Sunidha!Sunidha! Sunidha!

You can comprehend the state he belonged,

During the roll call in the class, I 

would hardly respond.

Friends and pals cringingly 

chorusing Suni, suni, suni!

on the volleyball court,

some even ended up 

calling me Su, su su...yuck!

Then the knight in armour

in my distress, trying his best

to calm the marital chords

pleading...Sunny, sunny, sunny!

till I bated my eyelids!

Career in the South

added extra letters

to make it rhyme

to fit their time

Sunita became Sunitha, Suneetha

and whatnot!

Give me a break!!!

If I go on, my eyes will go blurry!

There goes the multi-faceted

a game changing...grrrrrrrrrrhhhh

name changing harakiri!

In hindi...

su su- piss 

suni- blank, deserted

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

The Three Stripes

 Day-20

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: For today, try writing your own poem that uses an animal that shows up in myths and legends as a metaphor for some aspect of a contemporary person’s life. Include one spoken phrase.

This story is found in the epic" Ramayana". A squirrel helped Lord Rama, along with the monkey warriors and bears, to build the Ram Setu (bridge). 

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How tiny it was in front of the task

big boulders to lift

destination. too long

everybody  laughing 

at the nuisance in the midst.

Looking up at the lord

devotion in its big eyes

with great courage

scurried across 

picking up pebbles

some grains of sand

to fill the gaps

the bridge got stronger

so the awe 

in the eyes .

The lord observed

with kindness in his eyes

charmed with the

devotion, love, and dedication

shown by the little one

despite its size.

picking it up and 

running his fingers

across the little one's back

blessing it for yugas

with three beautiful stripes.

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

Hibiscus

 Day-19

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: The word florilegium refers to a book of botanical illustrations of decorative plants and also a collection of excerpts from other writings.  In her poem, “Florilegium,” Canadian poet Sylvia Legris gathers together many five-lined stanzas that describe flowers but also play with the sounds of their names, their medical (or poisonous) qualities, and historical aspects of herbalism. Today, pick a flower or two (or a whole bouquet, if you like) from this online edition of Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers. Now, write your own poem in which you muse on your selections’ names and meanings. If you’re so inclined, you could even do some outside research into your flowers and incorporate facts that you learn into your work.

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full of life and awe

kaleidoscopic rainbow

delicate beauty

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

Rakhandar- The Village God

 Day-18

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: Today, we don’t challenge you to write all of a long, dramatic, narrative poem, but we invite you to try your hand at writing a poem that could be a section or piece of one. Include rhyme, include unlikely and dramatic scenes (maybe a poem about a bank robbery! Or an avalanche! Or Roman gladiators! Or an enormous ball held by mermaids, where there is an undercurrent (hee) of palace intrigue!) Basically, a poem with the plot of an opera (evil twins! Egyptian tombs! Star-crossed lovers! Tigers for no apparent reason!)

                                                                    image- Google

                                                   

In the evening, in the sweltering summer

They waited in sync with bated breath to listen to her

Her stories invoked the smouldering rage

Of all the dark demons roaming in the village.

She would tighten the saree pallu fiercely 

Sit with her grandchildren, looking at them tenderly

Slowly, she would pile up layer after layer of stories

About the Rakhandar and his midnight soirees.

The young ones, with the pin-drop silence of the night, listen

Rakhandar, he was called by everyone, the village guardian.

He wore a dhoti, a turban, ghungroo on his feet and a goatskin shawl on his shoulder.

With a huge lathi and a mashall in his hands, a beedi in his mouth, he would wander.

Scouting the village with blazing eyes in the middle of the night

Banging his lathi, roaring loudly like a dragon, slaying the evil knights

His temples are sacred in the Goan villages. He is the  destroyer of evil

Nobody stepped out of their houses when he was on his night patrol. 

She would put out the lamp as soon as the kids fell asleep

They have dozed off listening to her voice in the shadows of the lamp.

There was no electricity in the village. By seven, it used to get dark

The thatched roof scurried with rats, and the streets echoed with a dog's bark.

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

Legacy

 Day-17

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: Sergio Raimondi’s poem, “Today Matsuo Basho Cooks,” plays on the following haiku by (you guessed it), Matsuo Basho:

Crimson pepper pod!

Add two pairs of wings, and look—

darting dragonfly.

For today’s challenge, write a poem in which you respond to a favorite poem by another poet

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deadly reflection

the mirror of ancestors

generation trap

In response to " First autumn morning" by Murakami Kijo

First autumn morning

the mirror I stare into

shows my father's face

Participating in: NaPoWriMo-2026

My Jasmine Plant

 Day-16

NaPoWriMo-2026

Prompt: In “Ocean,” Robinson Jeffers delivers an almost oracular, scriptural description of the sea not just as a geographical phenomenon, but a sort of being – old, wise, profound, and able to teach those who want to learn. Today, try writing a poem in which you describe something that cannot speak, and what it has taught or told you.

Shrivelled the whole year

With twigs and a barren exterior

Suddenly, comes to life in summer

Enhanced with green foliage

Growing into a curtain of white clusters.

Every morning and evening

A new beginning, 

The blooming buds

Bring so much bliss

With their fragrant smiles.

A lesson learnt- 

Wait for the silver lining,

Life is hard, but worth living.

Participating: NaPoWriMo-2026