Because part 1 wasn't long enough lol.
Right, so onwards! To more poetry . . . and then some more. . . i feel like this blog is never going to end 0.0
In any case, after the Nazi, Jew, you know, we were asked to look at another holocaust and write a poem on that. So, i looked at the Indian partition and . . . I mean, when you read some of the things that happened, you're just, horrified. i mean, i would never have thought - ahem. please do your own research at your own risk.
I wrote a poem in any case, though it doesn't entirely follow the facts that we know, I felt that this was kind of my way of approaching it, of what i felt went on, so here we go.
So i tried experimenting with language a little, which is why there is a shift from Hindi to English and vice versa. But, I still feel like i couldn't capture the image i wanted to. But at the very least, I'm hoping that reading the poem would make some people look up some of the horrors of the partition, which was more my goal than actually describing the horrors.
But admittedly, capturing the helplessness and hopelessness was hard. So, I'm currently reading up on the Burma Death Railway and . . . we'll see.
So after this, we were asked to try capturing an image via sound. in a way that people could visualize it . . I don't know how much sense I'm making. But yes, that was the general idea and, after all the horror and death and everything, it was a very welcome change.
Here are a few that i wrote.
The rustling of leaves
as wind blows through,
The soft sigh of trees
as they watch our stupidity.
The calm wind blows,
creating vacuums in my ears
and rustling my hair
As if greeting
a long lost friend.
The farting sound
of motorbikes,
begging for attention
and release.
The squeaks and squeals
of brakes
desperately trying
to stop.
The quiet purr of a car,
as it tries to
sneak through undetected.
Padded feet find their way,
On leaves that bear weight
But do not crumple.
Then, I reworked some of them, here are the ones that actually sound half decent.
Droopy trees, relaxed trees,
Swaying and playing,
sigh in annoyance,
but nonetheless straighten up.
For the weary, hapless traveller passing by.
Murmurs of frustration,
yet the trees wait with infinite patience.
Tears in my eyes,
A vacuum finds my ears.
Whilst rustling my hair,
A long lost friend greets me.
I swing an arm out,
Skirts swishing,
Tears now laughs
And embrace the wind.
Another short exercise, was writing a poem after hearing a prompt in 30 seconds. It's fun, in it's own way. I only wish i could write as fast as i type.
So, prompt 1: Windowpanes.
The window pane separates.
The outside from the inside,
the world from my room.
people shout, people call,
they laugh and shout,
lips always curled upwards
even if the smile is a lie.
My room though, is silent.
Lips downturned
or curled upwards
during rare occasions.
With a patter comes the rain,
no clouds announcing it's arrival.
Prompt 2: Watermelon Seeds.
Crunchy and cool,
Juices trickle down my throat,
Parched and dry,
I swallow loudly
As teeth nip at my neck.
Shivering and shuddering
Hot and cold at the same time,
Another juicy bite
And a tongue
Trails wet marks towards my chin.
The scrape of teeth
near the corner of my mouth,
Picking the seed
That lonely watermelon seed
that was, for a short while
my beauty spot
And spitting it away before
soft, fluffy hair
tickles me.
My hands wet,
dripping with sweet nectar,
his tongue lazily follows a path,
before sinking his teeth
in juicy red.
Not a moment later,
those tinted lips,
reach for mine.
Ahem. Admittedly, this one was hard. And whenever i find something a weee bit too hard, it tends to... go off into... well... erotica. Or something of the sort. Horror is generally calculated. Erotica though....
Anyways ~ prompt 3: Ladder.
So many ladders,
All set at a tilt,
45 degrees, no more, no less.
They create a small passage,
Step through enough
And they'll whisk you away,
To another land, another time!
And that's all the prompts i've giving you because the rest are . . . well . . sad.
Yay. So um, i've got more really REALLY long poems, so i'll be putting them up in blogs of their own ^^
And, as a treat, if i can figure out this embedding sound files thingy, you guys can listen to me recite my poetry ~
Right, so onwards! To more poetry . . . and then some more. . . i feel like this blog is never going to end 0.0
In any case, after the Nazi, Jew, you know, we were asked to look at another holocaust and write a poem on that. So, i looked at the Indian partition and . . . I mean, when you read some of the things that happened, you're just, horrified. i mean, i would never have thought - ahem. please do your own research at your own risk.
I wrote a poem in any case, though it doesn't entirely follow the facts that we know, I felt that this was kind of my way of approaching it, of what i felt went on, so here we go.
1947
Bhago
unhone bola.
Bhago.
Bhago.
Our friends
yesterday,
burned our houses down today.
burned our houses down today.
Kya hua?
Saval tak pahuncha nahi.
Saval tak pahuncha nahi.
We were
told
by our own family.
Your life, give up your life
to save our honor.
by our own family.
Your life, give up your life
to save our honor.
Hamari
zindagi
Apni tak nahi.
Apni tak nahi.
Yesterday,
The grass was green,
soft,
held our feet,
cradled it.
The grass was green,
soft,
held our feet,
cradled it.
The grass
didn’t change.
Our fear of it did.
The grass reached up for us
And we struggled away from it.
Our fear of it did.
The grass reached up for us
And we struggled away from it.
We were
dolls.
Marked with symbols,
Our new brand.
Marked with symbols,
Our new brand.
We were
broken,
Cut up,
Torn apart,
To leave a mark on our honor.
Cut up,
Torn apart,
To leave a mark on our honor.
The choice
didn’t change.
Both were worse,
One prolonged,
The other painful.
Both were worse,
One prolonged,
The other painful.
Hamari
zindagi,
Apni tak –
Apni tak –
Hamara kya?
Aur bhi kuch tha.
Aur bhi kuch tha.
Friends
became enemies,
Identities now questioned.
Bullets shot to kill.
Identities now questioned.
Bullets shot to kill.
Not our
enemies.
But our friends.
But our friends.
Ankhe bandh
rakho.
Kuch bhi mat dekhna.
Kuch bhi mat dekhna.
Walk and
walk,
People ahead,
People behind.
People ahead,
People behind.
Or were
they bones ahead
And behind?
Above and underneath?
And behind?
Above and underneath?
Hum kyu ja
rahein hein?
Kisi ne rekha dal rakha hein.
Kisi ne rekha dal rakha hein.
This line
changed our lives,
our deaths . . .
our deaths . . .
No one to
mourn us,
No final rites.
Dead ahead and behind.
Families torn apart.
No final rites.
Dead ahead and behind.
Families torn apart.
Hum khilone
the kya?
So i tried experimenting with language a little, which is why there is a shift from Hindi to English and vice versa. But, I still feel like i couldn't capture the image i wanted to. But at the very least, I'm hoping that reading the poem would make some people look up some of the horrors of the partition, which was more my goal than actually describing the horrors.
But admittedly, capturing the helplessness and hopelessness was hard. So, I'm currently reading up on the Burma Death Railway and . . . we'll see.
So after this, we were asked to try capturing an image via sound. in a way that people could visualize it . . I don't know how much sense I'm making. But yes, that was the general idea and, after all the horror and death and everything, it was a very welcome change.
Here are a few that i wrote.
The rustling of leaves
as wind blows through,
The soft sigh of trees
as they watch our stupidity.
The calm wind blows,
creating vacuums in my ears
and rustling my hair
As if greeting
a long lost friend.
The farting sound
of motorbikes,
begging for attention
and release.
The squeaks and squeals
of brakes
desperately trying
to stop.
The quiet purr of a car,
as it tries to
sneak through undetected.
Padded feet find their way,
On leaves that bear weight
But do not crumple.
Then, I reworked some of them, here are the ones that actually sound half decent.
Droopy trees, relaxed trees,
Swaying and playing,
sigh in annoyance,
but nonetheless straighten up.
For the weary, hapless traveller passing by.
Murmurs of frustration,
yet the trees wait with infinite patience.
Tears in my eyes,
A vacuum finds my ears.
Whilst rustling my hair,
A long lost friend greets me.
I swing an arm out,
Skirts swishing,
Tears now laughs
And embrace the wind.
Another short exercise, was writing a poem after hearing a prompt in 30 seconds. It's fun, in it's own way. I only wish i could write as fast as i type.
So, prompt 1: Windowpanes.
The window pane separates.
The outside from the inside,
the world from my room.
people shout, people call,
they laugh and shout,
lips always curled upwards
even if the smile is a lie.
My room though, is silent.
Lips downturned
or curled upwards
during rare occasions.
With a patter comes the rain,
no clouds announcing it's arrival.
Prompt 2: Watermelon Seeds.
Crunchy and cool,
Juices trickle down my throat,
Parched and dry,
I swallow loudly
As teeth nip at my neck.
Shivering and shuddering
Hot and cold at the same time,
Another juicy bite
And a tongue
Trails wet marks towards my chin.
The scrape of teeth
near the corner of my mouth,
Picking the seed
That lonely watermelon seed
that was, for a short while
my beauty spot
And spitting it away before
soft, fluffy hair
tickles me.
My hands wet,
dripping with sweet nectar,
his tongue lazily follows a path,
before sinking his teeth
in juicy red.
Not a moment later,
those tinted lips,
reach for mine.
Ahem. Admittedly, this one was hard. And whenever i find something a weee bit too hard, it tends to... go off into... well... erotica. Or something of the sort. Horror is generally calculated. Erotica though....
Anyways ~ prompt 3: Ladder.
So many ladders,
All set at a tilt,
45 degrees, no more, no less.
They create a small passage,
Step through enough
And they'll whisk you away,
To another land, another time!
And that's all the prompts i've giving you because the rest are . . . well . . sad.
Yay. So um, i've got more really REALLY long poems, so i'll be putting them up in blogs of their own ^^
And, as a treat, if i can figure out this embedding sound files thingy, you guys can listen to me recite my poetry ~
