When the world becomes too much for me

I prefer then to be with only me.

No company can be better than your own

To be able to explore own facets unknown.

For that you have to leave your baggage behind

Calm all your senses and have an open mind.

Quieten the voices clamouring to be heard

Listen to the inner silence, be deaf to the world.

Solitude is a wonderful place to be

When you are in touch with only me.

The quietude, the silence, the nothingness around

Is necessary to balance the din all around.

With too many voices and opinions crowding you in

It is better to log out instead of staying plugged in.

Listen to yourself, sing or read

Enjoy your own company to feed your need.

Once you are again in touch with self

Go reconnect with the world and forget yourself.




Don’t disparage me
For expressing my feelings
It may not be what you expected
But they are genuine and authentic.
I don’t bite my tongue when I speak the truth
And the truth can be unpalatable at times
My honesty attracted you in the first place
Now don’t go complaining
If sometimes I am critical of you.
These people who praise you always
Won’t be there during troubling times
I will be there for you


Our prompt for the day (optional as always) takes its cue from Notley’s rebelliousness, and asks you to write a poem that involves rebellion in some way. The speaker or subject of the poem could defy a rule or stricture that’s been placed on them, or the poem could begin by obeying a rule and then proceed to break it (for example, a poem that starts out in iambic pentameter, and then breaks into sprawling, unmetered lines). Or if you tend to write funny poems, you could rebel against yourself, and write something serious (or vice versa). Whatever approach you take, your poem hopefully will open a path beyond the standard, hum-drum ruts that every poet sometimes falls into.

(Today’s poem comes with a disclaimer : read it at your own risk.)

After you have read this poem
Don’t press the like button.
I don’t care for your likes nor the comment section.
I write here not to seek approval
Nor anyone’s validation
Why should my poems be
All about good and positive emotions?
And just because you like what I write
Don’t expect me to
Return the favour
I have had enough
Of the sugary- syrupy blogs
That espouse some kind of kinship
And expect a like back.
Just because you read my blog
Why should I read thine?
All that balderdash that’s floating around
Makes me sick to the core.
Day in day out
Everyone talks about their struggles and hardships
If not that, they seem to be sinking
In the quagmire called love.
This blog is my repository of thoughts
Of mine and mine alone
If you think I am being rude and obnoxious
Then you are bloody well right
I think I should put a
No trespassing sign
To keep out the maudlin lot.

(Please remember I am rebelling against what I usually write about)

#napowrimo #day20

A summer Afternoon

Our (optional) prompt for the day takes it cue from Brady’s suggestion that erasure/word banks can allow for compelling repetitive effects. Today we challenge you to write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even gives directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem.

The summer has started early this time. It is a lazy afternoon, with kids away for summer camp. From my favourite chair in the living room I can look out side. It is relatively quiet today. There’s peepal tree right next to the window. I spot a bird which looks like a cross between a dove and a parrot. It preens itself, all the while making strange cooing sounds. A squirrel runs up and down the branches playfully. I can also see a kite circling above, searching a prey. With a sigh I drag my attention inside. I take a sip of the refreshing iced tea and turn towards the task at hand. I have atleast fifty answer sheets to mark. As soon as I pick my pen to start working, the silence is shattered by the screeching sound of tires and crunch of metal. I peep out of the window and see a motorcycle and a car have collided. I rush outside to the accident spot. The quiet afternoon ending in helping two bruised and bloodied young men.

Now consider all the words that are not in bold, in the above paragraph, as erased. I hope the following does look like a poem.

Summer has started

A lazy afternoon

Look outside

A peepal tree

Spot a bird

Preens itself

Making cooing sounds

A squirrel runs playfully

A kite circling above

Sip refreshing iced tea

Pick my pen

Silence shattered

Screeching tires

Crunch of metal


Afternoon ending


#napowrimo #day19



He is standing at the edge of the ocean

Watching the waves rush towards him.

But perhaps rebuffed by his woebegone demeanour

They stop shy of caressing his feet.

He gazes unwavering at the horizon

Waiting for some miracle to take place

A genie in the bottle maybe

To drive away all his troubles and woes.

He forgets that the genie is inside him

Just needing enough push to come forth

The miracle is always within our grasp

If we use our powers to release it.

In my garden

For this prompt I have selected the poem Nature Trail by Benjamin Zephaniah.

The lines in italics are from the poem. As suggested by the prompt, the first line is actually the last line of the poem …

A garden of our own

Is what we have always wanted

And I believe we all deserve

To see what nature has flaunted.

You will never be alone

In this garden of mine

When you have a garden

Which is full of trees, shrubs and vine

And then there’s all that flowering

Pretty roses, lilies and more

There’s this constant search for food

By birds, squirrels and the mole

There’s always something happening

To keep one engaged

My garden is a lively place

The variety here will have you amazed.

A very wise old owl

Perches on the birch tree

And in my garden I have seen

A peacock roam carefree

And I’ve seen bats that growl

Rabbits who scamper along

My garden mice are very shy

But they come out to hear the birdsong.

Sometimes some dragonflies come humming

Hovering overhead

And when the night comes

They hide in the woodshed

And busy bees come buzzing

At the crack of dawn

Squirrels come to nick my nuts

Early in the morn.

This wild garden of mine

Is my joy and pride

And I’ve even seen a fox visit

In the dead of night.

But they always chose their time

Those who decided to come

Birds will visit, cats will visit

Whenever they are glum

As ladybirds fly by

In the dappled shade

There are worms turning the earth over

In this wondrous glade

For their time to come to fly

Young birds chirp in their nests

There are caterpillars waiting

To turn into butterflies, all dressed.

All are on my nature trail

Be it the spider near the dogwood

And a family of woodlice

Under the rotting wood

And an easy-going snail

Spotted near lavender bush

There’s a baby daddy long legs

Hurrying away in a rush

Living underneath a log,

Is a three feet long snake

And a lot of creepy-crawlies

Who often make me quake

There’s a hedgehog and a frog

Just near the pond

At the bottom of my garden

Of which I am very fond.

#napowrimo #day18



Fret not, my dear sweetheart

Things may seem bleak right now

When life throws a curveball

It is better to duck down.

I know this is totally unexpected

But we will find a way out

When you are with me on this journey

Don’t be plagued by any doubt.

Fret not, my heart’s desire

If life is not as it was

Dark clouds don’t forever linger

This too shall eventually pass.

Don’t be disheartened or discouraged

At the ebb and flow of tide

On this voyage into rough seas

I will always be steering by your side.