Life

Written for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night#414 where an optional mini-prompt is given---Instructions Before Visiting Earth by James McCrae.  And also, for those who missed the Mr Linky deadline the past week or this Tuesday’s poetics “Pulling poetry from the landscape” this is also an opportunity to share the poem. 

Wild Cloud Dreams

Written for dVerse Poets Pub, MTB compounding the stem with Laura Bloomsbury. In her words, Compounding the Stem we are composing in the style of the Compound Word Verse with 8/8/3 syllables per line and a rhyme scheme of a,a,b whereby the third line is rhymed on the stem of a compound word and is included in the title.

Phoenix

For Tuesday Poetics at the dVerse Poets Pub where we write for Kim's prompt to explore Chan's poem 'The Window.' As Kim says, Our challenge is to read and explore Chan’s poem, particularly the use of line breaks and caesura to build rhythm and evoke emotion, and a three-word movement: “anger is like the sun, which is like love”, and then write a poem in the first person that begins with “Once in a lifetime”. 

The way of love

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

02/23/2025

The way of love

A slim line of light swaying slowly as the drapes sway; 

On my palm, an outline of a feeble rainbow and a shiny

 Line of light, the day’s morning souvenir, I sank into the muse.

As the sneakers shove into the bed of dry leaves, I catch an orb

Before it falls on the sneakers, it escapes through the fingers, and

Fell on the leaves, washing and filling my thoughts and musings.

As the day bloomed, I saw smiling faces, flowers, birds, trees, the water

In my bottle, vehicles, buildings, books on my table, and the labor

Of a day softly, carefully, wholly enveloped in that omnipresent light.

As the night crept, the gift of love to the moon, the slim line of light sways

On my palm, soft feathery light through the drapes, the way

Of love, a touch of light till you go slowly into that sleep and dreams.

 

 

 

Visit ‘What’s Going On?’ for more.

Remembering

 

 

 

 

Every travel is a grounding ritual to shed and regrow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remembering is the huge rain tree at our school,

its numerous leaves of people and events, a whirlpool 

to fathom; yet it is heaven to sit under its shade, so cool,

and is homecoming. That the love still exists, you know;

after every storm, rain, drought and winter, you know

you are that love and memory walking, doing, resting

and sleeping, day and night. The tree in our school,

 don’t know if it is still there or not, but it is here like a flow,

a flow  in your existence, everything that was, mellowing,

every person there was, is, the shade, the home—you.

Like the Beatles, my song flows, I love you more!

Nothing to give, nothing to take, let December jingle joy

to usher in a January that is no more a separation, war,

pollution, greed and ego, but a huge rain tree of joy

and homecoming.

 written for :- What's Going On?

Memories

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Memories

The smell of tender cashew, green and juicy,

pulls me to her, my Ammumma, granny,

she will be taking out tender cashews for the curry;

 now one will go to her curry cuttings, and one in my mouth.

It’s tender, slightly punchy with its aroma, and juicy

just like the memories of an era gone by.

Wandering around the red Amaranths, lingering near the cow shed

 and wondering about the hens’ swiftness and stunned stillness,

burying coins in the wet sand where the dish-wares were washed

 hoping it will sprout as a magical coin tree,

 then running back to a house full of loving  people,

 the stories that were waiting to be told at lunch and dinner times,

 of course, with a stick to discipline a child who won’t have food otherwise.

 The vividness of Grandpa’s adventure stories mingled with the aroma of milk, cashew and jack-fruit---

 memories are savories for the soul.

 Hold onto memories, the sweet and sour mixture for the very roots to nourish all that is coming.

 

 

written for :- 

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2024/11/memory.html 

The Camel Ride

Your sand engulfs my feet into the warmth of earth; I am climbing up your camel; rhythmic, slow and steep up and down,  I am scared of your camel ride. I am cautious as if I am  holding the emotions, to fall/spill is giving up; when all are on a fast Jeep ride, I wonder who will hold me close? I hold tight while watching the burning sun;  living the moments, humming an old melody, and the sun is beautiful. Oh Desert! I am learning your warmth, mirage, and the endless perspective, I am learning to hold tight. Your echoing songs and kalbelia, I am learning the rhythms. I hold my oasis within. Oh Desert, your camel ride, I am learning.