Wednesday 28 December 2011

Happy Day Haiku :) (For the Sailor Who Took Home a Poem :) )





True blue to your club
Truer yet, to your glowing bride!
Happy Day, her Cap'n!!!




Happy Birthday, Arjun S. Kumar! May the sweet joy of this day permeate the rest of the year! God Bless!

23 December, 2011
For 28 December, 2011



(Title tagline, credit to Sachin Stalin who titled the album of Arjun's and Sashu's wedding pictures, thus :) )





Friday 23 December 2011

Laconic

In nods, in tiny smiles
In glances on off chances
And accidental brushes
With the finger tips
Or a swish of clothes
While moving by.

In sudden stealth
Of secretive looks
In gleams of warmth
Like embers coated in ash
That, with breaths of love
Glow, in anticipation.

Your whispered words
Of adoration. Are they
Just superfluous?



Listen to a version of it :)




23 December, 2011
(Chasing a word niggling my head. Title :D)

Thursday 15 December 2011

Forgotten?

In daily consciousness
Is oblivion-
Memories to negate.
For, what lies in sight
And impinges upon the ear
Oft, are we blind and deaf to.


In forgotten realms
Abutting that consciousness-
Is that where you place me?
Hovering on the fringe
Of your knowing?


Of course, not consciously.
But in off hand negligence
Living the taken-for-granted
Cliché.


I desist, though. And will
Resist. 
Willing myself 
To hammer against that wall
(Clear as glass and just as hard)
Of accidental denial.


Waiting for the pane
To shatter.
So that I can
Yet again, redeem you.





13 December, 2011






Fishing, again :D


Friday 9 December 2011

The Pig (by Roald Dahl)

Two reasons for sharing this delightful poem.
One, it is for you Neeti: remember we were talking of Roald Dahl's short stories, and I mentioned this poem, much to shared laughter, at the name. Idiosyncratic, but utterly believable :D :D!


Two, am trying out the embedded audio player. I found out about this when I visited Trinath's blog, where he has included his own reading of his poetry. As I had a recording of this poem, for a young, talented performer at school, Priyanka Nair, I decided to try this out :)





Here's the poem:
The Pig, by Roald Dahl

In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn't puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, "By gum, I've got the answer!"
"They want my bacon slice by slice
"To sell at a tremendous price!
"They want my tender juicy chops
"To put in all the butcher's shops!
"They want my pork to make a roast
"And that's the part'll cost the most!
"They want my sausages in strings!
"They even want my chitterlings!
"The butcher's shop! The carving knife!
"That is the reason for my life!"
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great peace of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grizzly bit
So let's not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
"I had a fairly powerful hunch
"That he might have me for his lunch.
"And so, because I feared the worst,
"I thought I'd better eat him first."

*************************************************

Listen in (and tell me just how bad it was :P! Yes, I am fishing!! :D)






Note: For those who would like to try this out, let me tell you what I learnt from Trinath, via this poem of his, that I turned into a sort of chat window. :D He very patiently sorted it out for me: Take a look at this poem of his (called "Everything in place", yes it did fall in place, Trinath!):






9 December, 2011

Saturday 3 December 2011

Death Smiles [Tanka in Tandem]






The beautiful rose

Tall, vain, proud- but now slain, lies

Picture-perfect on

The coffin of her mistress,

Whose hand fed that vanity!




Death waits and smiles in

Irony – the beautiful rose

Tall and proud, now his

Prize: another soul to take

Away – unexpected Gift!



30 April, ‘07

(Pictures from : scholez18.blogspot.com ; www.guardian.co.uk)




***
(I read this beautiful poem by Somkritya, here, which made me want to repost this tanka, from a collection of them posted way back, called Tantalizing Tanka :D)



Tanka, like Haiku, is again a form of Japanese Lyric Poetry.

[As you know by now, :) ] A Haiku works with 17 syllables arranged in 3 lines of 5/7/5 syllables to each line, and evokes an aspect of nature and the seasons, with the last line holding the punch so to speak.


Tanka on the other hand gives the writer more space to work with – 31 syllables, arranged in 5 lines of 5/7/5/7/7 syllables each. Tanka is an older form of the lyric in Japanese… dating to 13 centuries ago, while Haiku is just about 3 centuries ago..

Tanka was mainly written between lovers, as society had accepted the fact that a man’s dallying with another woman, other than his wife was normal!! After the man departed early in the morning, he would send a Tanka to his lady love with his message of love..




Thursday 1 December 2011

Aftermath


In splintered glass
Its shards - sharp, silently
Holding the shrieks
Deeply felt, unexpressed...

When mirrored hearts
Unable to take the
Screaming pitch of 
Untold grief
Simply shattered.

Broken pieces of emotion
Jagged ends of pain
Liquid molten ooze
To soothe the 
Calamitous infinite moment
That endless eternal moment
I never thought
I'd recover from.

The splintered glass
And shards
Mirrored again-
Multiple hues
Myriad dreams

From whole to parts
Complete in each
Broken incompleteness.

All is not lost.
Each minute dream
Grows rich again.



Each reflected colour
Promises life again-
Each sliver, on it's own
Finds itself again...

Life, it still has
Meaning.


2 August, 2011
(Written while supervising the senior children writing their poetry, on the theme, "Life, it still has meaning". :D)

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