Love’s ebb and flow (NaPoWriMo)

Your name was inscribed in the lines of my palm
our love inscribed in the realms of storms
the coarseness of the sand I feel on your palms
brings the vast seas to my heart, roaring capriciously and then tranquil, by turns.

The tempestuous tides
forever interwoven
with your heartbeats, respond
automatically to the pull and push of the moody moon
the unfathomable depth of the oceans reflects in your eyes
(from the stormy greys to the muddied browns)
hiding subtly the underlying passion
I savour the sweetness of the brackish seas
on your lips, my carnation lips atingle with
a taste defying any definition!

Even when your hand slips away from mine
our lines entwined bind us together
like the sea and the moon that are forever bound
sometimes close, at others afar
leaving my landlocked home awash with sea spray.

Today’s prompt challenges you to also write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places.

Also for Sadje’s wdys.

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Love/Unlove (NaPoWriMo)

Pic courtesy Tiny Buddha

Warm whiskey eyes that overflowed with love
I see the coldness of ice cubes in them
You put in my palms the heavens above
oh, but why can’t you now hear my heart thrum!

In love we steepled our fingertips
your butterfly kisses;  heart went berserk
my name an incantation on your lips
why are they twisted in an ugly smirk?

There was we: you in me and me in you
tied in passion. Unravelled by ego
so now there’s no we, only you and you
I battle the effects of vertigo

Your eyes, your lips, your hands, I must forget
may your poor, selfish heart rot and regret!

A sonnet on the theme of love for NaPoWriMo today.

My dad

Pic courtesy Circle of Care

Daddy’s hands, blue veined and soft,
were in my hands when he slipped away
I detested my hands for many months
for their inability to hold on to him
my hands so unlike his in appearance and texture
yet both with the left being the dominant one.

My voice refuses to break into a song
for dad is no longer there by my side
covering up my flat, unmusical notes
with his sonorous and robust baritone
never the one to give up easily, my daddy,
lessons he gave me enthusiastically and undeterred.

Ever the restless, he sits still now 
there on the mantle, in a simple wooden frame
with nary a frown on his patient countenance
no film of dust can dim his deep smile
nor the love glinting in his garrulous grey eyes
as gulmohars herald the arrival of spring
I feel his warm presence all around me.

Gulmohar (delonix regia)

Written for dVerse poetics. Today I am the host. We are writing about fathers, incorporating at least three titles from those given below.

1. Dance with my father: Luther Vandross

2. Song for dad: Keith Urban

3. My father’s eyes: Eric Clapton

4. Papa don’t preach: Madonna

5. Daddy lessons: Beyonce and Dixie Chicks

6. Color him father: The Winstons

7. Daddy could swear, I declare: Gladys Knight and the Pips

8. Baby father: Sade

9. My old man: Mac Demarco

10. Father to son: Queen

11. Papa, can you hear me?: Barbara Streisand

12. Daddy’s hands: Holly Dunn

13. My father’s house: Bruce Springsteen

14. Papa don’t take no mess: James Brown

15. Your daddy loves you: Gil Scot-Heron

Freeing self

Your love did not remain patient
your love became unkind
it started keeping a record of mistakes
it disliked being faced with the truth
something died inside of me
when it became rude and self-seeking
determined to move on I sat with your epistles
those verses that you wrote for me
were pinning me down; a reminder
of what it felt to be belittled

so…

I buried a few in the backyard; a foot under the ground
then stomped on them to my heart’s content
made boats of others and consigned them
to the little stream that was our rendezvous
watching them sink, my heart soared
a few I made into kites and as they rose and dipped in the sky
to disappear into oblivion, I felt my heart become lighter
the rest I burnt to cinders and watched the smoke
curl and dissipate into nothingness
I finally felt free of the love that felt like a burden.

Written for Sadje’s wdys.

Love & life

(From Shutterstock)

Love and life not always synonymous
yet why does one
always think
life is
love

Life
a gift
not promised
often unfair
but one can’t tell her, “go just get lost life”!

Written for David’s W3 (where the POW D Avery has asked us to write tetractys) and for Eugi’s moonwashed weekly prompt.

Wishing Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and to the rest, a happy Sunday! My home is all topsy-turvy due to the renovation work going on. I will be unable to blog for a couple of week, so wishing you all the very best for 2023. Warm hugs to all braving storms and freakish cold weather. Stay warm, stay safe.

The language of love

(From Pinterest)

The tinkle of glass bangles
valiantly tries to hide
the hullabaloo as heart wrangles
with mind on who will preside.

Feelings send chits to all concerned
hoping for an early hearing
overwhelmed with affection yearned
too long lost in the jungle of longing

Love is an unstoppable juggernaut
thundering through logic and reason
leaving the prosaic mind distraught
passion often incites treason.

Written for dVerse poetics. Today I am the host and we are exploring the Indian origin words in English language. Read about it here and join us.

About loving and living

From Freepik

It alights lightly, fluttering softly, leaving goosebumps, then you become aware of it when your heart is all aflutter, beating to a primordial song, awash in indescribable emotions, blood afire in your veins, your soul lit with the luminosity of pure joy; at once divine and carnal and there is no need to shout from the rooftops, for love like fragrance cannot be hidden. And yet, life is about living, not regretting so it is always better to proclaim.

Written for dVerse MTB. Today’s host, Björn, has asked us to get aphoristic. You can read about it here.

Also for David’s W3, where Britta (POW) has asked us write a prose poem on love.

Passion

From Inc. Magazine

By the banyan tree in the courtyard
Freezing in the cold January night
Passion died under the onslaught of ego
At the altar of doubt, love felt forsook
Its last breath darkened the already dark night
Blossoming romance couldn’t survive till daylight.

By the time dawn removed the curtain of tenebrosity
Freezing earth had thawed, shedding rivulets of tears
Passion couldn’t remain moribund any longer
At the retreat of self-aggrandizement,
Its fire revived again, its flames stoking fervour
Blossoming again into all consuming ardour.

Written for dVerse MTB. Today’s host, Laura, has asked us to choose ONE of the following lines and write a stanza(s) taking each word as the start of each successive line i.e. the first word begins the first line, the second begins the second and so on.

Rules: You must keep the same sequence though you may reverse it
Your poem should preferably  be at least 2 stanzas long
Rhyme is optional but try to stick to the meter of your chosen line.

• Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part
• Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows
• By freezing passion at its blossoming
• I guard her beauty clean from rust
• Quail from your downward darting kiss

I have selected Neil Carpathios’ line.

Love be like a favourite stuffed toy (NaPoWriMo)

The love that we share is like the misshapen stuffed beagle
our son dragged by the ear when he was barely four
passion has dulled a bit like his button eyes
but the cuddles are as warm as they were before
the mundanity of living has taken toll on the sheen
but the familiarity has only increased our rapport
we both may be spilling out of our seams
the sight of each other still makes our hearts roar
just as it occupies an honourable space
our love over the years has quietly matured.

Today’s challenge is 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.

Life is words

Besotted, you watched intently
as words dripped tellingly from my
fingers

When I laced my fingers through yours
heart tattooed its favourite song
you’re mine

That summer of love drenched in rain
we traced dancing shadows lying
awake

The intricate latticework of
passion enfolded us in its
embrace

No dream did seem impossible
but then, life didn’t like our planning
ahead

Shattered shards I pick everyday
never knew broken dreams could hurt
so much

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Pain assauged through each word written
therapeutic exercise I
employ

Each experience enriching
however broken; beautiful,
life is.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host, Grace, says:  write a Synchronicity poetry verse.

This poetry form is written in the first person revealing accidental yet seemingly synchronized events.

The definition of synchronicity is the state or fact of being synchronous or simultaneous; synchronism. Coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related.

As a poetry form, this consists of eight three-line stanzas in a syllable pattern of 8/8/2. This poetry type has no rhyme and is written in the first person with a twist. The twist is to be revealed within the last two stanzas. This form was created by Debra Gundy.