20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


2 Comments

The Telephone Rings

Her little voice across the phone last night:
“I saw your picture in the paper. Nice!”
(My writers’ group, one afternoon of white
snow, candy canes, hot chocolate, gave a slice

of literature with readings, workshops, sales
of our own books before the Christmas rush.)
And then my granddaughter asked, voice in trails
of hope, “Can I come over?” In a hush

of happiness how I agreed. “I’ll bring
my books and I could have my lesson.” Yes!
She plays piano. I, the richest king,
anticipated her arrival, press

of long brown hair against my chest. And soon
I saw her lime-green coat. She ran to me,
“Hi, Memah.” O, that sweetened perk. The moon
last night shone brighter than the stars. To be

with her is treasure. How this charmer brings
me joy with laughs and smiles tucked in so tight
that every polished moment like this clings
with stubborn happiness and makes dark light.

English: Siemens Gigaset 4010 Classic, cordles...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)


4 Comments

Birthday Wish

It’s the lonely old man’s birthday.

He remembers his 10th birthday, 60 years ago, when he celebrated it with friends, parents, and boxes of water guns.

He remembers his 30th birthday, 40 years ago, when he celebrated it with partners, mistresses and wads of cash.

He remembers his 50th birthday, 20 years ago, when he celebrated it with children, grandchildren and bottles of champagne.

Today he celebrates his 70th birthday with a wooden table, a wooden chair, and four empty walls.

His mind is of anticipation. A wooden box, a wooden dais, a small white floral wreath.

 

 

c Sorrows in a Serenade


Hollow

finally back after a long uncomfortable absence, I hate not posting regularly :(

hollow eyes -
window to
hollow soul.
rainbows of youth
faded, dull grey hues
plague cloudy skies.
winged dreams fall
battered, bashed, shattered, torn.
muted screams heard –
from the aching
gnawing inside.
they cling onto shreds of
life


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Bridges

I walk along the rivers
Which sources lie between
The pale white clouds in the sky
Which ends anywhere
Its tail a snaking wisp of smoke

I want to cross
The rickety wooden bridge
To the other side,
An uncharted mysterious terrain where
Strangeness is subjective.

January, and with it comes new courage,
New light,
New heart.
I finally cross it.
The raging rapids conquered
Connections, bold
And strong.

 

www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com


2 Comments

Writing Rondeau

The dark red blood glistens in the night

The dark red blood glistens in the night

Narrating the story of British Raj’s might

How a kind boy was killed at first glance

where now his lover is forced to dance

Who will, against this injustice, fight?

.

This deed of the Raj can never be right

the story behind which I now write

That kid was of no proper civil stance

Now his dark red blood glistens in the night.

.

What was about him, that the Raj fright

Was it his, against the oppression, fight?

He was not even given a last glance

Drowned in the black river at first chance

Now his lover dances at the same site

Where his dark red blood glistens in the night.

The story, I am narrating, through this poem- is loosely based on a Hindi prose- “एहिं थैया झुलनी हैरानी हो रामा…” by Shivprasad Mishra “Rudra”.

Poetic style- Rondeau

A french form of poetry consisting of 3 stanzas, 13 original lines and 2 refrains of the I line of the poem.

Rules-

1. 8-10 syllables per line.

2. Structure with rhyme scheme-

A

A

B

B

A

.

A

A

B

A(R)

.

A

A

B

B

A

A(R)


3 Comments

The Blitz Poem

Beautiful sky

Beautiful love

Love so fair

Love so sly

Sly is who I am

Sly is the world

World so dreary

World is a dream

Dream in the night

Dream of the day

Day quite warm

Day with a charm

Charm act outward

Charm so fake

Fake is who I am

Fake is this world

World freedom

World enlightens

Enlightens the path

Enlightens my soul

Soul concept of life

Soul concept of death

Death for me and you

Death so inevitable

Inevitable circumstance

Inevitable depression

Depression kills

Depression controls mind

Mind your own business

Mind so lame

Lame is who I am

Lame is the world

World so sultry

World where I live

Live in the shadow

Live in the oblivion

Oblivion choices

Oblivion sky

Sky so high

Sky so blue

Blue waters

Blue cheese

Cheese of cow

Cheese I love

Love is who I am

Love is the world

World is yours

World is mine

Mine

Yours…

Well, I hope you are not angry for reading this poem(yes it is a poem) which is full of meaningless phrases and words.

But I loved writing it and I hope you are also going to love it.

Blitz is a 50-line poem, completely made up of small phrases. Rules-

1. Line 1 should be one short phrase or image.

2. Line 2 should be one short phrase or image, using the same first word as the first words of Line 1.

3. Line 3 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

4. Line 4 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

5. Line 5 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

6. Line 6 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

7. Line 7 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

8. Line 8 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

9. Keep on repeating the routine till Line 48.

10. Line 49 is the last word(only) of Line 48.

11. Line 50 is the last word(only) of Line 47.

If you have any questions, do ask them. And try it- I know it is a little time consuming and a little confusing as well, but it is quite entertaining when we write it.

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