GloPoWriMo 2020: 18/30

Today’s poem stems from the prompt that asks me to write about life’s simple pleasures. There is a lot that I’m grateful for every single day – especially these days. Being at home for the past month, though, has reminded me of the pleasure that was living and growing up in this bedroom. I’m also very grateful to have an attached bathroom these days, and that forms today’s poem.

Health Faucet

When I was a young boy,
The washroom had a small little sink in addition to a big one –
Far too low for a regular human of any size to reach
I’d always assumed that’s where babies were bathed,
These special sinks to keep them cozy.
I had no idea these were bidets,
Used to clean oneself after the greatest part of the day.

I’ve always used health faucets, so Outbound Trips and America felt strange
Toilet paper always disarmed me,
I felt robbed of my only weapon –
Something one of my friends called a “potty gun”,
Leaving me in splits.

At University, we had two options:
An seat in-built jet-spray and the mug,
My pre-bathroom checklist included flushing,
Checking if the jet spray worked,
And praying.

That’s why returning home felt comfortable –
Not my beanbag,
Not my bed,
But my trusty health faucet, with
It’s 100-pin holed head.

GloPoWrimo 2020: 17/30

Today’s napowrimo prompt asks me to write a poem about forgotten technology. This was a tricky one because I’m very fond of technology in general, and old technology in particular.

Typewriter

Clickety-clack,
Clunk,
Zing-zing-zing,
Chik-chik-chik
Clack,
Clunk,
Zing-zing-zing,
All I hear on my chiclet-style keys are
Letters on a word processor –

How I wish,
My blogposts would sing.

GloPoWriMo 2020: 16/30

Today’s poem asks me to write over-the-top compliments. I am very capable of these, but I’d like to write a few backhand compliments about group project members. In groups, we invariably let each other down when it comes to projects and submissions. I’ve been a victim of this, but also a cause – particularly in my third-year.

Group Project Member

Dear Group Project Member,
If there is one thing I like about you, it is that I have many things to like about you,
I would love to spend every minute of every day, sitting and chatting about things,
However, I really have to get stuff done.
If you knew how much I thought about you,
I would be very embarrassed.
You’re so independent (I wish the group wasn’t compulsory), and
Charming when you make an effort.
You give me so much to look forward each day – and your
E-mails light up my inbox since I know
That we can get done with our work now.

 

 

GloPoWriMo 2020: 14/30

Today’s prompt is fascinating. It offers a chance to write about what inspires me to write poetry. My own inspiration comes from two things. The first is my primary school: where poetry recitation was compulsory, earned you merit cards, and was a very fun activity. The second is my mother, who enjoys things that rhyme and trained me for all those poetry recitations by making me memorize verses. They came in handy through my Grade 10 English Literature examinations. I’ve been inspired, quite literally, by all the verse I’ve been exposed to since I was very, very young, and I’m very fortunate to be in that position. Writing this poem is therefore slightly tricky, but I hope to showcase my personal narrative as best I can.

Verse

Ms. Tandon, in Grade 3, chose the poem,
Homework, Oh Homework!, to recite at our Assembly,
I was in love, instantly,
“I hate you, you stink!” was my rebellion of the times, particularly given that
I could not draw a Fish, as expected of us for Science.

In Grade 6, Ms. Kotian introduced me to Leisure
Following it up with some Wordsworth,
In Grade 8, I refused to study Geography, and
Ms. Dasgupta and Ms. Narayan introduced me to
Pied Beauty, Pike, and A Different History.

In Grades 11 and 12, when I missed studying Literature,
My mother drew me aside,
She found a book of handwritten poems,
Filled with rhyming couplets inside.

They tickled me pink and brought a smile to my face,
A rhyme scheme of abab – my mother was a poetry ace.

In March this year I discovered Rumi,
In a way significant to my life –
Shams-i-Tabrizi, Ghalib, and he,
Mahadevi Verma, and Bahinabai Chaudhari.

All of these inspire me,
Collectively, yet
Independently,
As I sit rattling away keystrokes to
Write free verse,
Every April.

GloPoWriMo 2020: 12/30

Today’s challenge is to write a triolet. The triolet is a short poem of eight lines with only two rhymes used throughout. The requirements of this fixed form are straightforward: the first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line; and only the first two end-words are used to complete the tight rhyme scheme. Thus, the poet writes only five original lines, giving the triolet a deceptively simple appearance: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.

Naps

So short-lived, so fleeting,
Instant, and slow
My mind turns, dreamlands offer a greeting,
So short-lived, so fleeting,
Into a higher world, my body, retreating,
Of happiness, this feels apropos,
So short-lived, so fleeting,
Instant, and slow

 

GloPoWriMo 2020: 11/30

I love today’s prompt. It takes inspiration from the language of flowers, and even gives me the freedom to consider making up my own meanings.

Flowers 

Every Valentines’ Day, my father buys a bouquet of flowers for my mother,
They’re always bright and colourful,
Hues of yellow, orange, and pink,
It is clear he understands romance,
Is trained in floriography, for he buys flowers that clearly communicate
Affection,
If you ask me to buy you plants, or flowers,
I am not sure I will make a sprightly, colourful bouquet,
Instead,
I will buy you a solitary cactus,
It is low-maintenance, so will bear with your memory,
It will remind you to drink water regularly,
More importantly,
It will endure,
As Shams Tabrizi said,
I hope it gives you the patience to look at the thorn,
And see the rose, for
That is what I see in myself, and see in you.