Homesickness

If we part our ways, I will always keep looking for you wherever I go.
I wonder if you think about me as much as I think about you.
Often feeling empty, a deep void that can’t let me sleep.
I cannot deny that your absence made me feel lost yet not for the first time.

While walking in the streets, I feel I keep hallucinating,
The fair and precise resemblance of your face,
Short hairs covering half eye and every scar that you kept secret,
All comes into life, so to remind me, this is not you.

I wouldn’t want to runaway from my thoughts alone,
If only you could leave me entirely, if only I would let you go.
It is painful, but it tastes like freshly brewing nostalgia with every sunset,
A homesickness that is beyond repair.

~Navaparna

Day 6 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2023.

Prompt 6 source: https://www.napowrimo.net/poets-start-your-engines/
Today’s (optional) prompt is again drawn from our archives, and builds off our daily resource. Take a look around Poetry International for a poem in a language you don’t know. For example, I grabbed this one in Finnish by Olli Heikkonen. Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem.

For today’s prompt I have no idea what my poem seems like. It is just so totally different than that of the prompt’s directed poem, but for my today’s muse I have chosen- Demain, dès l’aube by Victor Hugo. I was deeply attached with this poem after I read the translation, it has left me emotional for an hour now. I have realised, both the poems does have some kind of similarity, not in the structure but perhaps the deep rooted attachment, silent emotions, some unrecovered loss and the strong memory that leads to nostalgia.

Demain, dès l’aube

Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.

Picture credit- Pinterest

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Ataraxia

Mellow sound of water splash
dropping on my cup of tea
the evening has fallen
down to the earth’s brim.
The sun is being swallowed partly,
the moon rising above ground slowly.
Waves of ocean current reverberating,
the cold breeze is mindlessly blowing.
Lost-
lost is the cold breeze, the ocean current,
the water droplets falling in the cup of tea,
the sun setting in twilight,
the moon rising at night,
they lost the taste of-
fun and excitement,
fear and redemption,
passion and pleasure.
they are just driven by the force
for fulfilling a direction and a purpose.
they are not perfect
maintaining a day’s routine,
but they can’t quit their jobs overnight,
or complain about a rough day.
In the end, mustn’t they settle peacefully?
they deserve a cup of tea served in the table,
and a good wage in the end of the month,
and a certificate of appreciation for CV?
Don’t you think they deserve a little credibility too?

To experience peace after a tough day is essential. Have it.

~Navaparna

Day 4 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2023.

Off prompt today. Tried creating a comparison of our life and the non-living things of nature that simultaneously works like we humans do, everyday, same routine but at least we experience some helpful ways to protect our peace of mind and it is necessary to keep ourselves fit for survival as well. Ataraxia, the goal.

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Fire and Ice (recreated version)

Not everyone says the world will end in fire
Perhaps not even in ice.
I haven’t tasted any of my desires yet
I cannot be bias, it will not look nice.
But if it never perishes at all, not even once.
I would never know how much love,
Does it need for destructing fire or ice
Then probably both could be compared in terms of greatness
If it happens, insufficiency would solely prevail, in infinite.

~Navaparna

Day 3 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2023.

Prompt 3 source: https://www.napowrimo.net/poets-start-your-engines/
Here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always). Find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.” Your first draft of this kind of “opposite” poem will likely need a little polishing, but this is a fun way to respond to a poem you like, while also learning how that poem’s rhetorical strategies really work. (It’s sort of like taking a radio apart and putting it back together, but for poetry).

For today’s prompt, I have chosen Robert Frost’s Fire and Ice. I have tried something very new and I hope you all will like it! I remember reading this Robert Frost’s poem back in class 10. Oh how I enjoyed reading poems that rhyme and are easy to understand during the schooldays unlike the English Literature that I have to study for my degree. Ahhh too much struggle understanding old complicated English with no literal sense lol. Robert Frost’s poems are simple to understand because they are mostly based upon daily activities and life. Anyway I love reading and composing poems so give it a read:))

Here is the Poem:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

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Small Talk with Mr. Oyster

How are you Mr. Oyster?
– Enjoying my days hiding in this shell!

Why do you live in salt?
– Salt is my lovely habitat!

Do you often meet beloved seaweed?
– Well I swim through her hair can you believe!

Is quahog your dearest friend?
– Oh yes, we both get eaten by these monstrous humans!

~Navaparna

Day 2 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2023.

Prompt 2 source: https://www.napowrimo.net/day-two-10/
And now for today’s (optional) prompt! The Romanian-born poet Paul Celan once wrote a series of surrealist questions and answers. Here are a couple of examples:

                What is forgetting?

                                An unripe apple stabbed by a spear.

                What is a tear?

                                A scale awaiting a weight.

Now for each question, write a one-line answer. Try to make the answer an image, and don’t worry about strict logic. These are surrealist answers, after all!

After you’ve written out your series of questions and answers, place all the answers, without the questions, on a new page. See if you can make a poem of just the answers. You may find that what you have is very beautifully mysterious, and somehow has its own logic.

Quite a challenging prompt for today. I literally didn’t wanna skip but my head is empty! I present a short conversation with Mr. Oyster and his sea life! I promise to come up with better concept and expressions :))

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Colours

Art fascinates me,
colours dazzle to absorb me completely.
What shines like the blazing sun,
or like the shimmering stars
or the golden brown bun;
little did I know I love
every tint of paint,
from pastels to shades
from stained colour palette
to amalgamated water of paint.
Every colour is not my favorite
but it reminds me of childhood
how time cannot wash away
something that is unreasonably yours,
painting was a hobby once upon a time
now I use it as a therapy, an escape.
And how fascinating it is to believe,
colours would fathom me,
feeding my soul the peace it needs.
I was a little kid,
beguiled by dancing freely
red, yellow, blue, green
patterns and colours could lure me easily.

~Navaparna

Day 1 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2023.

Prompt 1 source: https://www.napowrimo.net/poets-start-your-engines/
Here’s our own prompt (optional, as always) for the first day of Na/GloPoWriMo. They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but they never said you can’t try to write a poem based on a book cover — and that’s your challenge for today! Take a look through Public Domain Review’s article on “The Art of Book Covers.” Some of the featured covers are beautiful. Some are distressing. Some are just plain weird (I’m looking at you, “Mr Sweet Potatoes”). With any luck, one or more of these will catch your fancy, and open your mind to some poetic insights.

Oh my goodness, Poetry Month has arrived, and the ultimate wait of a year has finally ended! I’m so excited for this month. After all, we all are, right? So let’s give a big cheer for 2023! I’ve used today’s prompt to write about a book cover that I used to adore so much when I was a little kid. Dating back to 2012, when I was in class 3, my father brought me this colourful story book during summer vacation, and I was so fascinated by the art and the infinite number of colours and patterns used in the book that I couldn’t get my eyes off it. Reading was such a delightful pleasure that I recall reading this book at least 15 times in rapture. Children’s books are always full of vibrant colours and vivid illustrations, and I guess that’s what made me fall in love with reading and buying books! The featured picture is my favourite book from what I can recall from my childhood. I think book covers are a source of motivation and inducement to read the book, so I guess they have quite a good influence! Sharing one favourite memory with my dear readers. Hope you enjoyed:)) 

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“Musing about Memories”

Well, I love to travel
And to be more specific,
not every trip is pleasurable
I suppose you agree.
Some offer sweet memories
whereas some very dismal.
Some are bestowed with beauty
whereas some confer only knowledge,
in a journey on a flight or through a voyage.

But, behind every tour
I ought to undertake,
I make sure-
I prepare some time
to jot down what fascinated me,
The Most.
While something queer or
not easily remembered
would effortlessly catch my eye.
There, I would immediately
capture it, nonetheless
for the rest of my journey
it’ll be intriguing me unless
I discover something more exotic.

May it be an amusing show
or an antique piece in a museum
or the authentic food it serves
or the culture it presents
or an animal to illustrate
or a home of an author or
perhaps just a hill or a mountain
or maybe an art or an artist
performing to display,
or a variety of things
even the sky under a shade;
of a city or a village,
every small or big experience
seems very special to that place.

The forming of a bond
while it lasts,
in a photograph or in a memoir
had my musing in-
reminiscing long attachment
to every place I visited
where I chose a special
memory as worthy as I’ve made it:
To cherish for long years as,
an indestructible bond of
solidarity through travelling
from place to place.

Every journey becomes
a tale and in coming years
all the chronicles will turn into
lively motion picture
floating in the waves of ‘life’.
I am yet to be discovering
many unseen-unheard places
To be sure of one thing;
to carry my camera and
a notebook with a pen.
To fulfil every thirst of
making sweet connections
to people and places.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 30

Prompt Day 30: https://www.napowrimo.net/day-thirty-8/

Today I choose to upload a poem I wrote for https://www.poemsindia.in/napowrimo‘s 11th day prompt : April 11th– “Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”

Ahh its the end of the marvelous month! Little did we think, how time flew by so quickly, everyone involved in writing and publishing poems on blogs, reading other poet’s musings, complimenting/criticising each other, sharing and encouraging their fellow participants everyday, on every amazing prompt by Maureen and and yet we are here on the last day. Thank you Maureen for having to organise an excellent event for a month and for gathering such a great audience, most beloved bloggers and poets from all over the globe and thank you for giving us this opportunity to meet these incredibly talented bunch of individuals! This was my first time and I have to say it was such a fun! To be honest I missed the first three days in the beginning of the month LOL but since the 4th day it was all like a responsibility, to wake up in the morning to check the website for the new prompt and later post a poem at the end of the day, a challenge we all did successfully I guess! Going to miss all of my fellow participants a.k.a all-time-supporters but hope we’ll meet next year on the same platform for spending another amazing, memorable time letting our creative juice flow into our masterpieces! Love you all, sending best wishes for the year ahead.

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“My tears ricochet”

It was 30th of September
years long from today.
Right before falling of dusk,
during a twilight I was born.
Papa mocks about newborn me,
says on the day I took birth,
I bitterly cried throughout the night
And neither did I sleep nor did I
let my father sleep. He took me in his lap,
and swing me, yet I didn’t stop shrieking.
I wonder if that was the only day
I relentlessly cried, incessantly.
Because till now, in my teens
I haven’t probably cried for that long.
Possibly because I’m shielding my insecurities,
strengthening my weakness, shunning disconcertment,
curbing all pent-up worries, anxiety and depression,
escaping from raging fear but it never leaves swiftly.
So as days passes by, we learn to cope with them,
we grow through it but we don’t let our fears enslave us.
Inspite of having a soft, timid side of me that is vulnerable
I never showed my tears in presence of people, nobody.
And my parents believes in me, their daughter is “strong”.
I always say to them, “I’m!” so as to let them stop worrying
about me, but they haven’t seen all the cursed nights,
their daughter has to go through so many mental breakdowns.
As, in the morning they always found a smiling face in me.
I kept brooding over the paradoxical view points,
of what my parents think I am and what I am in reality.
I got birth, crying but I don’t wish to die crying.
My tears are precious. They are our sterling strength.
And I wonder if my parents ever noticed my enigmatic smile.
For which even my tears ricochet.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 29

Prompt Day 29: And here’s our prompt (optional, as always). In certain versions of the classic fairytale Sleeping Beauty, various fairies or witches are invited to a princess’s christening, and bring her gifts. One fairy/witch, however, is not invited, and in revenge for the insult, lays a curse on the princess. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which you muse on the gifts you received at birth — whether they are actual presents, like a teddy bear, or talents – like a good singing voice – or circumstances – like a kind older brother, as well as a “curse” you’ve lived with (your grandmother’s insistence on giving you a new and completely creepy porcelain doll for every birthday, a bad singing voice, etc.). I hope you find this to be an inspiring avenue for poetic and self-exploration. https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-nine-8/

The title of this poem is taken from a song by Taylor swift, very much my favorite. Although the lyrics doesn’t match with my poem’s intention but, since I like the title so I applied it in my poem and to my surprise it went through pretty coolly. Oh yes I literally cried terribly during the first night and from then onwards maybe my parents can’t recognise my tears lol. I mean I do not cry easily, and how embarrassing it is to cry in front of people, especially in front of my parents! I just can’t. And hiding away pain is quite natural though, as we don’t want them to worry about us but repressing these awful rage and bottling up conflicting emotions is even more dangerous. We must share with them, if not parents then friends prolly. Water in our body needs a way out, so may it be sweat or tears or pee it gets out eventually. Anyway, its penultimate day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 and just one day left! We’ll be back to our mundane lives and wait for the next year, wow it was all fun game! Well I’m really going to miss my readers for some time and specially the actively engaging participants of NaPoWriMo challenge. Have a good day.

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“Mångata”

One of the
celestial illuminous
organ that emits its own
light and is considered Earth’s
only natural satellite, is our beloved moon.
It’s glittery reflection on lofty waves of ocean
creates a sublime effect under the dark night sky,
something is bewitching with the orb of night, pleasing
panorama, emerging from horizon, sometime after the twilight,
shimmering moonlight falling into Earth’s crust, a delightful
exhilarating vantage point, that if anyone passes through the coastline,
it it obvious to easily get lured to gaze into that beautiful sight.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 28

Prompt Day 28: Today’s prompt is to write a concrete poem. Like acrostic poems, concrete poems are a favorite for grade-school writing assignments, so this may not be your first time at the concrete-poem rodeo. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem. For example, May Swenson’s poem “Women” mimics curves, reinforcing the poem’s references to motion, rocking horses, and even the shape of a woman’s body. George Starbuck’s “Sonnet in the Shape of a Potted Christmas Tree” is – you guessed it – a sonnet in the shape of a potted Christmas tree. Your concrete poem could be complexly-shaped, but relatively simple strategies can also be “concrete” —  like a poem involving a staircase where the length of the lines grows or shrinks over time, like an ascending (or descending) set of stairs. https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-eight-8/

Mångata is a sweet word from Swedish language which means reflection of moon light on water. Defined by the Glosbe Swedish-English dictionary as ‘the roadlike reflection of moonlight on water‘, this word refers to the long, glimmering reflection of the moon on a (usually large) body of water, which resembles a shining street or road.

Thus, using this beautiful term my concrete form of poetry has been done. Just like the reflection on waves of water creates a ravishing scene, whether in ocean or pond or any other water bodies, I used the description to create my poem and it was quite fun! Just a minor inconvenience due to the alignment of texts, but it is somewhat like the waves of ocean I suppose. Do let me know your thoughts on this.

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“dolce far niente”

Sweetness of doing nothing.
Meandering silence solely unrevealed…

Silence does not mean entering into oblivion.
Instead, creating zestful moments with gusto.

Spending pleasant, joyful time with yourself.
It is not the feeling of calling empty or vacant…

The void has its own resonating power, in emptiness.
It has a strong voice that travels around, echoed.

Idle but not grief-stricken, never weak to catch the voice.
Practically healthy, an affable soul-to-soul conversation.

To be specific, not to confuse with any Psychotic disorders.
Comforting self-talk, absolute reflection from the chaotic bustling life…

Feeling of ecstasy, enjoying blissful moments of solitude is perfectly defined as-
Sweetness of doing nothing.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 27

Prompt Day 27: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a “duplex.” A “duplex” is a variation on the sonnet, developed by the poet Jericho Brown. Here’s one of his first “Duplex” poems, and here is a duplex written by the poet I.S. Jones. Like a typical sonnet, a duplex has fourteen lines. It’s organized into seven, two-line stanzas. The second line of the first stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the second stanza, the second line of the second stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the third stanza, and so on. The last line of the poem is the same as the first. https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-8/

Dolce far niente is an Italian phrase, which means sweetness of doing nothing or pleasant relaxation in carefree idleness. In my poem I have talked about solitude, soul-to-soul connection and relishing blissful moments with oneself, which also implies to that of reflecting thought process. A quite and calm environment is all what one needs while relaxing. I understand most of us loves to live independently, enjoying alone and adore being with themselves more than spending time with others or having to talk in a group feels suffocating or something that sort of. And spending quality time with yourself feels most validate of all and I claim the same. I too love solitude and appreciate sweetness of doing nothing/ Dolce far niente! So this duplex poem is dedicated for all my sweetest dearest readers who love Dolce far niente <333

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“Savour: the sheer flavour of beauty”

As the aroma of a perfume and a cologne
has a tenacious sojourn over vestures,
has both a perennial sway persistency
and equally a feverish lingering adequacy,
two dawdling over, in closets and malls,
expecting for purchasers and sponsorships
while one has intense, strong odour,
viz. ‘eau de cologne’
the other is light, pleasantly sweet fragrance,
viz. ‘eau de toilette’
and if one must wonder the contrast in each-
of which is popularly called by the name “scent”;
then one must learn the variance, the quality,
the endurance, the importance of fragrance,
chiefly the use of the crucial integrant in a
sophisticated dressing up process- ‘savour’
as it is the garnishing flavour, the very ingredient
which adds a finishing touch to the nines.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 26

Prompt Day 26: And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.
https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-six-8/

My readers may think I’m a materialistic girl, lol just to inform you I’m not, at least not as much as you thought but yeah I have a good taste for fashion though. Actually, I’m very fond of perfumes and this post is dedicated to one of my most favourite things I would never get tired of anyway! A fun fact that I always find it funny- These perfumes are called “toilet water“, although we don’t say much but doesn’t it sounds odd, interestingly(in case you didn’t know) the name is derived from the French word “Toilette” which means “a small piece of cloth”. Today’s prompt based poem has a Homeric simile and well if nothing else, I have glorified aromas poetically, elegantly in my poem. The entire poem is just one sentence, including all sorts of pauses and breaks in between but thoroughly specifies the simile. The differentiation of cologne and perfume is mostly described here, Eau de cologne and Eau de toilette The true essence of fragrance is believed to have the sophisticated principle of showing elegance and grandeur in a person. Sobriety/solemnity, it all matters right! Hope you enjoyed the poem… Check out my Pinterest collection, I’m sure if you are a fan of colognes and perfumes you’ll definitely love the aesthetically pleasing board!

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