POEM: Escaping the Frame [Day 6 NaPoMo: Villanelle]

[A villanelle is a six-stanza form (originally French) in which the first five stanzas are three lines (tercets) with an A-B-A rhyme scheme, and the sixth is of four lines (a quatrain) with an A-B-A-A rhyme scheme.]

a vast grassland spans my field of vision
bison languidly trample the dry grass
azure sky seen in perfect precision

are these the fields the Greeks hailed Elysian?
but while it’s vast I feel it has no mass
perhaps, it’s just hi-def television?

I find my mind is wild in ambition
and ignores the window frame and the glass,
pretending all that is, I envision

but I know I see with imprecision
a glance sees no more than in science class
though vivid, it’s as false as a gryphon

but beauty beats logic to submission
I become one with wind-tousled tall grass
dazed, I’ve lost all mental inhibitions

why would nature thrill in exhibition?
baring beach to beach across each landmass
it’s not to employ more aestheticians
but to drown out distrusting suspicions

POEM: Bangalore [Day 5 NaPoMo; Acrostic]

Bridge between high-tech and no tech

Also, city of garrisons, gardens, and grandparents

Native of none and yet Namma Bengaluru

Growing bamboo-like with dense patches of people

Artistically eclectic: Kuchipudi dancers to cringe comedians

Lal Bagh calls to keep the title “city of gardens”

Obliging in ways rarely seen above ten million

Rust red and old stone buildings; the city’s grey hair

Everything is possible here

POEM: Away [NPM Day 4: Ghazal]

[Ghazal is a poetic form of Arab origin consisting of between 5 and 15 couplets. Traditionally, it is metered (how many feet per line varies from poem to poem, but shouldn’t within a couplet,) and has a rhyme scheme of AA-BA-CA-DA-etc. A common theme word or phrase across couplets is also tradition, and it often forms the rhyme. Loss and separation are among the most common themes.]
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In the airport, I think I’ll find a way
to be “he who stayed” as I go away.

“Left” and “stayed” aren’t just matters of locale.
Some who stay, long ago drifted away.

Some retreat within their seats, I speak true.
Body here; mind a million miles away.

Unwalking undead, this kind of zombie.
So, the living must become runaways.

They’ll say I’m playing games of semantics,
but games are done, now I must go away.

Solitude Haiku [On the Third Day of NaPoMo]

let us now pray
for short people with no one
to reach the top shelf


moon-gazer
sitting on a rooftop
hugging knees


silent morning
awakened by the sounds
that aren’t


closing eyes
seeking faces forgotten,
sadly failing


what void
holds the millions
unseen



[Since it’s National Poetry Month (NaPoMo,) I’m trying to do a different form each day. So far: limericks, a sonnet, and haiku. If you know of any obscure forms, I’d be glad to hear of them, because I don’t think I know 30 flavors of poetry, presently — relatively short form, of course, I don’t have the time or skill to do an epic narrative in a day. (Though micro-narrative will certainly be a thing.)]

A Sonnet in Contradictions

a tantrum caught on the face, but not thrown
a barrier unseen, like a mime’s “box”
a sprouting plant sprung from a seed unsown
and time shown on broken, not working, clocks

passing the test using knowledge unknown
farmer plows no field with an oxless ox
interest free loans and the silent moan
sale on magic, mineral-deficient rocks

train bound for nowhere at nought miles-an-hour
entropy decrease, the Second Law is dashed
try solving world peace with all-purpose flour
car jumps from a telephone pole uncrashed

i’ve seen all these, and oh so many more,
but i’m not some self-aggrandizing poet-whore

Flowering Haiku

hectic sidewalk
frangipani blossoms
stepped over


calling bees
scent, color, and glory
unrivaled


the hillside
when rhododendrons bloom
shangri la


for two weeks
the valley flowers,
its spell cast

 

purple circle
rings the base of a tree
regal shadow