Dance Like There is no Tomorrow

Day-15 NaPoWriMo 2020
Prompt: Write a song.

Dance,

Shall we?

To the aging chimes,

In the twilight zones.

Come on darling, let us dance-

Dance, like there, is no tomorrow!

Dance,

Shaking a leg or two,

A promise, to love,

Forever and evermore.

Come on darling, let us dance-

Dance, like there, is no tomorrow!

Dance,

With our choices,

They may never fade,

In the changing world.

Come on darling, let us dance-

Dance, like there, is no tomorrow!

Dance,

As possibilities 

Are not many,

In our small world

We are lost.

Come on darling, let us dance-

Dance, like there, is no tomorrow!

Inspiration: 

Participating in: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-fifteen-6/

Words

Day 14- NaPoWriMo-2020
Prompt: Inspiration to write Poems

                                                                     image: Divar Island



Inspired-


By a personal loss

When tears churned out glazed ache

Into ink and streaks;

Words became a solace 

When a teenager found peace

Between the blank pages of a diary.


Still inspires-


In the aching heart, oozing in different shades

When life becomes unbearable

When emotions go out of control

When dark clouds spread their wings

On the psyche, and alienate happy tunes

It is poetry, that comes to the rescue.


Will inspire-


As Keats professed beautifully;

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever"

Life and nature will always inspire

In happiness and sadness too.



Definitely-


Poetry is  not to impress somebody

It doesn't need testimony

Poetry heals, it is a beacon of hope and sanity

A catharsis, of a deeply felt emotional journey.



Poetry-

A river of penance, an abode of peace.







Participating: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-fourteen-7/

The Little Moments She Cherished

Day-13 NaPoWriMo-2020
Prompt: Non.apologetic stealing

                                                                      image: Sunita Prasad





"Where to start and where to stop?"

She looks at herself in the mirror and talks

About all those little memories she has stored

They visit when the heart wants to melt

Splashing into soft puddles at her feet

She feels his loving hand still stroking her hair

Whenever she touches any book

She remembers the  time she became a  book thief

That sultry summer afternoon marked on her being.

The first time he caught her

Stealing  one of his books

Eleven years old trying to read

The "Dream Merchants" a Harold Robbins thriller

He admonished her tenderly saying "You can read

When you reach my shoulders."

Destiny played her cards too early

And they couldn't share books anymore.


That month was special

Showing deepest respect 

To all those who taught the real  meaning of life

And made to stand tall in the face of the world

She would get up early in the morning

Just to commit a sin, 

An honest sin of stealing 

Beautiful flowers from the neighbor's garden.

She would lovingly gather the fragrant hues 

Bonding with small ferns in a  beautiful bouquet

With a huge exciting smile, she would rush to school

Oozing with happiness, a little girl in pigtails shyly presented

The bouquet of lovely, fragrant flowers

To her favorite teacher on the fifth of September.

.

There are many more tales

Deeply engraved in the grey cells

How she stole a poster of Imran Khan

From a friend's sports weekly

How she stealthily steal a few laddoos from her grandmother's pantry

Not to forget the number of times

She climbed the coconut  trees in the hot summers

A little monkey hanging on top with a toddy pot

The best time was ransacking the neighbor's orchards

Gleefully enjoying with buddies 

In the midnight on All Souls Day

Her village still resonates 

With her tomboyish tales

Cashew,chickoo, custard apple

Mango trees and many wild berries

On their trunks, they carry

Her innocently carved memories 

I know, I know, She spilled many beans

You can ask her mother, the number of times

She was caught stealing the fruits and berries. ;)




Participating in :http://www.napowrimo.net/day-thirteen-6/

Sepia Memories

Day 12 NaPoWriMo 2020
Prompt: Triolet (rhyme scheme ABaAabAB)

                                                                      Image: Benaulim Beach



Misty waves ache in her eyes,

Remembering the bohemian delight,

Time bleeds in solitude and the soul cries, 

Misty waves ache in her eyes. 

Tides of swelling dreams gone by,

Childhood revisited in the aching twilight,

Misty waves ache in her eyes, 

Remembering the bohemian delight.









Participating in: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twelve-8/

Attachment

Day-11 NaPoWriMo-2020

Prompt: Language of Flowers

                                                                       image: Sunita Prasad

Tonight I write,

About a sweet memory

Memory as old as time.

There were those

Scrawny hands

Filled with a lover's vibe.

They held a needle

A needle stringed together

With a thread of fragrance.

The evening glistened 

Weaving the pearls

In her diminishing eyes.

She held that fragrance

In her wrinkled hands

And weaved a world of her own.

The way she weaved

Those pristine pearls

Left a whiff of life in the misty air.

She strung them

One after another

Till a lengthy memory was made.

She dressed up

In her best attire

Adorned with the fragrance in her hair.

The summers,

Strengthen her love

In the tresses, waiting for her beloved.

Participating in : http://www.napowrimo.net/day-eleven-8/

View from my Balcony

Day-10 NaPoWriMo-2020

Prompt:  Write hay(na)ku consisting of three-line stanzas where the first line has one word,the second two and the third line three words. Can write just one or string a number of stanzas to make a longer poem.

                                                                        image:Sunita Prasad



Sky,
Drops colors
The evening blushes.

I,
In trance
Watch the spectacle.


Birds,
In trees
Dance in pleasure.


Nature,
Life-giver
Soothes my soul.


Peace,
Smiles happily
In my garden.





Participating in : http://www.napowrimo.net/day-ten-8/

"Questions"

Day-9 NaPoWriMo 2020
Prompt: Concrete Poem (Shape Poem)

                                 

                                        frustrating, moaning
                        many                                              overwhelming

                   So                                                                 questions
                                                                         
                                                                                          screaming
                                                                             
                                                                                         involuntarily
                                                                               
                                                                                        in the time of
           
                                                                                      quarantine.

                                                                               And, I am
                                                                     
                                                                         desperately
                 
                                                                    searching
                   
                                                              in tandem

                                                         to
   
                                                find

                                       a
                                      n
                                     s
                                     w
                                      e
                                        r
                                         s

                                       in the
                                    blanketed
                                       words


Participating inhttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-nine-6/#comment-4868169118

:

The Body of This Woman,

Day-8 NaPoWriMo-2020

Prompt:  Twitter Phrases of famous poets ( I have taken one from Slyvia Plath Bot)

                                  

                                                                         image: Sunita Prasad


  The body of this woman

A map, a universal cup

Life breathes in her bosom

A slow dance of oscillating chimes.


The body of this woman

Tastes of dewy morn, of lusty moonbeams

Sweaty, languorous,  honeyed summers

Of fragrant wildflowers in springs.


The body of this woman

Span's salt pans and deserts

Marked at different angles

Measuring the birth of a man.


The body of this woman

Scarred, in a demonic chase

Blood flows in her veins

Thirsty ravens drink her tears.


The body of  this woman

An edifice of sacrifice

Little mounds of unthreaded marks

A battlefield of life's struggles. 



The body of this woman

A monument, a pulsating minefield 

A passionate, meandering stream

An epitaph in flesh and blood.



The body of this woman... earth in transition!





Participating in: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-eight-7/

The Boy Who "Divorced" His Parents

Day-7 NaPoWriMo-2020
Prompt: Weird News Article.

                                                                        image: Sunita Prasad




"Uncle, you are on the television"
The voice of his little niece
Sent sharp arrows through his heart
Headlines long-buried reinforced
Images long-forgotten crisscrossed again
The reality jammed in his face
The past never stopped haunting
The archives opened his hidden ache.



The light in the dark tunnel chased the shadowy ghost...



The drugged life of an urchin
Flashes in clumps
Beaten, shaken, bruised and cursed
A life he had led when one should be loved
Derranged parents, abusive and uncouth
Made life a living hell for an eleven years old boy.


Hope hanged on hinges in his innocent heart...



He blessed his stars
When a Mormon patriarch and his family
Provided their shoulders to cry
They wrapped him in a warm embrace
Loving, caring, feeding and blessing.
He felt he has his foot firmly on the ground.


There is a silver lining starring in the dark...



Aah! The force of destiny
Loomed large in his way
The birth giver filed for custody
And his world turned upside down in a jiffy.


Heavy boulders of fate rushed in the path ...



The cursed life led a thorny path
He was not left with any other choice
A little lost child of eleven 
Stood in the witness box
Defending for his rights 
Asking for some sky to breathe
He broke his bond, with the umbilical cord
Infront of the dark citadel of justice.


The sky looked blue and the air smelled good...



Twenty years later! It has been that long
Through phases of depression and realization
He understood the ways of the world
Life taught him to forgive and forget
And wanted to set an example
To ask for forgiveness for the harm caused
To those who scarred his existence
But! The woes continue
The womb of his birth is no more.



He will carry that guilt to his grave!





Participating in: /http://www.napowrimo.net/day-seven-6/

The link to the news: https://people.com/archive/20-years-later-the-boy-who-divorced-his-parents-vol-78-no-26/

Heaven and Hell

Day-6 NaPoWriMo 2020
Prompt: Ekphrastic. The painting "The Garden of Earthly Delights"

                                                                       Image: Google


Desires-

On an inverted globe

Jammed in lustful

Glares

The fountain,

Moaning human compost

Degenerates.

An assembly of

onlookers, voiceless

Merge in Madonna's lap

Earth crawls,

Out of the seashells

Freaking at the seams

Terrestrial sin,

Plunges deep in the psyche 

Wounding the womb of life

Decrypt creation,

Stoops to the flesh

Sowing the wild seeds

In the grip,

The robust inferno

Flashing an extinct breed

Life hangs,

On microscopic 

Aquatic cells

The dove

Reclines

On the twig...

Freedom! Cursed and released...




Participating in : http://www.napowrimo.net/day-six-8/

The Moon Speaks

Day-5 NaPoWriMo- 2020

                                                                       image:Sunita Prasad


Their larynxes are plastic lagoons

Breathing in hot molten lava

Tasting rancid thoughts and smelling of phosphorous

They spoke in honeyed tones.

Carlos planted seeds on the Jacinto island hoping for the rains.

They watched while acid oozed from their hateful eyes

The sweetness in the air was an alarm call

"Susegad" is the world they believe

Kindness wrapped in a tinge of jealousy, they whispered,

"Patrao,  boro muree?"

The foreign goods smelt of camay soaps and Marlboro, which wafted in their drawing rooms

Dark secrets lurked in that wooden trunk, which had lace, nuts, and green notes

Carlos believed people on their face value, an understatement indeed.

They dig a pit behind his back, the knives were sharpened in the darkness

A soft thud and a loudmouth

Can land you in a death trap

The avian listener understood the plot

Not all neighbors are good at mending fences.




Participating in : http://www.napowrimo.net/