Changing Colour

Day#2 Prompt: Today, I’d like you to write a poem inspired by, or in the form of, a recipe! It can be a recipe for something real, like your grandmother’s lemon chiffon cake, or for something imaginary, like a love potion or a spell.

 

 

The  cold creamy paneer

Greedily licks up the fiery red

Gravy frothing above a blue

Orange yellow violet flame,

And flushes into a shy yellow.

It burns away the paleness,

Excitedly.

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Your tender earlobes

Blush into a weeping pink

Salt leaves your eyes

But you smile blazing rainbow

The silver needle has left its mark,

Willingly.

A Worn Out Note

NaPoWriMo Day#7: Write a poem about money

The rickshaw driver handled me a worn out note, frayed

At the edges. As lined as the palm of his hand. The

Dirty tape that held the collapsible material precariously together urged

That I should return it, But he, reading what I was about to do, turned

His watery eyes on me. They bore an uncanny resemblance to the

Dirty tape that held the collapsible material precariously together that

I reverently folded the note into my purse. The thinning paper gingerly

Sat amongst crisp, fat younger notes. The worn out rickshaw driver cycled

Away, and I felt he would tear apart, the tape being so precarious. .

Listening

NaPoWriMo Day#4 Prompt from http://www.napowrimo.net: Write a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows.

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I tell you the most inane things:

i need to shampoo today, a mosquito kept me awake at night

I feel blank when people tell me goodbye and maybe never realize they’re gone

Night is my favourite part of the day.

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You listen in a way

That sometimes irritate me

Sometimes make me laugh sometimes make me angry

Sometimes make me feel your unknowing, still hands

Can hold just tight enough everything I want to forget,

In you.

Goodbye Television

NaPoWriMo Day#3: Write a fourteener, a poem with each line consisting of 14 syllables.

Prompt from http://www.napowrimo.net

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Beneath the neem tree, towards the gleaming water I run

Away from your grip, your hollow talk and dull dirty eyes

My feet rush faster as my mind tries to forget all the

Minutes, the hours, the days, and most important, the moments

You took away from me, my brain too numb, too weary to

Realize how limited my time at home was, how short,

Shorter than your one twenty second advertisement break.

The Blue Bird Flies

NaPoWriMo Day#5: Write a “golden shovel.” This form was invented by Terrance Hayes in his poem, The Golden Shovel. The last word of each line of Hayes’ poem is a word from Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem We Real Cool.

 

The poem I’ve chosen to shovel-ize is Langston Hughes’s beautiful Dreams:

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

 

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow. 

 

The shovel-ized version:

I slip from your hold

Falling freely, falling fast

With nothing to hold on to

I fly with my dreams.

 

What was I holding back for?

If only I had fallen sooner, only if

I’d known how beautiful were my dreams

I wouldn’t have let them die

So silently, condemning myself to a life

Where I forgot what love is,

A life where exhaustion reigned, a

World were every day left me feeling broken-winged

Never realizing I was a blue bird

So tiny, so insignificant that

I often feel I cannot

Let go, never knowing I can fly.

 

I slip from your hold

Falling freely, falling fast

With nothing to hold on to

I fly with my dreams.

 

What was I holding back for?

If only I had fallen sooner, only if

I’d known how beautiful were my dreams

I wouldn’t have let them go

So easily, condemning myself to a life

Where I forgot what love is,

A life where exhaustion reigned, a

World where days were barren

Like a drought fed field,

An existence so frozen

That I’d forgotten that with

My song, I could make it snow. 

 

They

NaPoWriMo Day#4: There are a couple of variants on the lune form, but just to keep things simple, let’s try the version developed by Jack Collum. His version of the lune involves a three-line stanza. The first line has three words. The second line has five, and the third line has three. You can write a poem that consists of just one stanza, or link many lune-stanzas together into a unified poem.

 

Two shy faces

Talked from across the hall

It was love.

 

Two shaky hands

Squeezed their quaking hearts out

They were scared.

 

Two bold strides

Taken tentatively by trembling feet

They were brave

 

Two dazzling smiles

Which were impossible to hide

They were happy

 

Two silent tears

Fall when no one’s looking

They were memories.

The Happy Charm

NaPoWriMo Day#3: Write a charm – a simple rhyming poem, in the style of a recipe-slash-nursery rhyme. It could be a charm against warts, or against traffic tickets. It could be a charm to bring love, or to bring free pizzas from your local radio station

I SUCK at rhyming, so here’s a crappy, cheesy, corny poem:

A gentle wind to chase away your blues

The joy in your eyes reflecting all kinds of hues.

Our feet sinking in the messy sand

As we walk hand-in-hand.

My happiness charm is easy,

Though it may sound cheesy

All I need is you

To make me feel new.