Monday, October 5, 2015

Noah Steals the Rhyme

This was an interesting assignment. We were to find a poem that rhymes. Next, take all of the end rhymes—those are the rhymes that end each line—take all of those and rewrite substituting the rest of the lines leading up to those rhyming words with our own writing!

Noah Steals the Rhyme!

There is no time, 
with all the crime, 
who is free to sit and rhyme

This world used to be so refined, 
Now the thoughts are so confined
There is no good and bad defined
I have a task on hand assigned
And that is the only thing I could mind
And save the man from his own mankind

All the good ones are in jail
The convicts have already got the bail
Its high time I come out of vale
And follow the trail
There is going to be a quail
And may be followed by a gale
He may be eaten up by a whale
Or crushed into pieces by its tail
My job is to get the best ones to sail

All the work to do and days only equal to nine
Before that I need to get everything in line
Grab the best ones and not wait for their opine
And just take them on this journey gifted by the divine
Once they know they will not whine
And peacefully on the deck will they dine
Perfect boat for all will I have to design
Only so that the world will see another sunshine

Not me, so who could have written such a beautiful rhyme? 
Though it would seem to you a crime,
But I really didn’t have the time
To let such an old story be sublime
Without wasting any of my dime. 


P.s. - Next assignment is even more interesting... Its something called a Lipogram. Where we need to choose a vowel - a, ,e, i, o, u (that was just to brush up your knowledge ;)) and write something that could use only that 1 vowel in the entire poem. Now thats a task i am working on!!! 

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Ocean of Love...

Vast and deep, as is
My love,
Pure and transparent, as is
My love
Always there, as is
My love

A dip can give thee highest ecstasy, as is
My love
A look can show thee true self, as is
My love
Extends beyond the lines of horizon, as is
My love.

Has been there since the beginning of time, as is
My love
Will be there till the end of world, as is
My love
Older than the oldest, yet newer than the newest, as is
My love

Rise and rise, fall and rise, as is
My love
Waiting for the river to complete its journey and merge into, as is
My love....


Thursday, September 10, 2015

Found Poetry - October Blues

My next few posts are going to be assignments from this workshop that I am undertaking - 'Sharpened Vision - A Poetry Workshop' through coursera. Do share your views! :)
My first assignment is to write a Found Poem, details of which are given at the end of this post.

October Blues...
October arrived,
spreading a damp chill over the grounds 
and into the castle. 

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, 

was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds 
among the staff and students. 

Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, 

though it left the drinker 
smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. 

Ginny Weasley, who 

had been looking pale, 
was bullied into taking some by Percy. 

The steam pouring from 

under her vivid hair, gave the impression 
that her whole head was on fire.

Raindrops the size of bullets 

thundered on the castle windows 
for days on end; 

the lake rose, 

the flower beds turned into muddy streams, 
and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. 

Oliver Wood's enthusiasm 

for regular training sessions, however, 
was not dampened, 

Which was why Harry was to be found, 

late one stormy Saturday afternoon  
drenched to the skin and splattered with mud...

( Above is an Poemified excerpt from the book Harry Potter and the Chamber of secrets, chapter 8- Deathday Party as a part of execerise for a poetry workshop )

(Found poetry is a type of poetry created by taking words, phrases, and sometimes whole passages from other sources and reframing them as poetry by making changes in spacing and lines, or by adding or deleting text, thus imparting new meaning. The resulting poem can be defined as either treated: changed in a profound and systematic manner; or untreated: virtually unchanged from the order, syntax and meaning of the original. The concept of found poetry is closely connected to the revision of the concept of authorship in the 20th century: as John Hollander put it, "anyone may 'find' a text; the poet is he who names it, 'Text'".- Wikipedia )

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Beautiful Path...

I am the flower waiting for the sun to rise,
I am the fields that runs to meet the sky,
I am the peacock waiting for the first drops of water from the sky,
I am the river gushing to meet the ocean,

My only purpose is,
to blossom till you are up in the sky,
To go the farthest and be the horizon,
To dance with all my beauty and grace,
To flow into you and take the salty identity,

The path is what I live for,
The end is what I long for...

However long,
Its the journey that gives me joy,
Its the journey that makes me want you more,
Its the journey that gives birth to love,
Its the journey that makes the end so rich...

Saturday, August 15, 2015

That strange place...

It is a strange place...
I am all by myself,
I am  in my own home,
I am with my own people
There are others as well,
But its still all alone.

There is bright sun outside,
Water is all sparkling diamonds...
Breeze is making the leaves dance in all its grace
Grass on the ground is all aiming for the sky,
The whole nature is calling me to be one with it,
But here I am, all secluded in this dark place,

Music is falling on the drums,
Colors are falling on the retina,
But the mind has shut itself off from all the outside world

It is beating faster than ever.
I have been here only in my nightmares,
I have never opened this door before.
I have always kept it locked,
But Today the ghosts have come out.
And The only thing that matters right now is u,

It will take time to turn them back
It will take time to lock them in
Or they will haunt me every where I go,

They don't want me to experience life around me,
The blazing sun, the sparkling water, the dancing leaves, the lush ground,
The melodious music, the live colors,
The love of belongingness,

These ghosts are the result of your presence, of your unconditional love, of your absence,
But I have to make this journey on my own.
Its a choice that I have made,
I have to let u leave,
I have to embrace this strange place,
Because this is where I will find solace in the end,
And they say, in the end nothing will matter.
Let's see...!