it is, when
we call it
to be ‘accepted’.
Held by Love, we search
proof of the Divine!
©Lakshmi S. Menon
*Day One Prompt: the LUNE :
Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of English-language haiku.
While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count, instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a one-lune poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes.
Day One: Writing 101, November 2, 2015
So here I am tweaking the prompt that I have attempted a few times already with a HAIKU !
WHY I WRITE
writing frees up space
from subterranean depths
life can flow again !
Lakshmi S. Menon
There is a difference between the religious and the spiritual as this picture below shows:
fences in my mind
right and wrong strictures stifle
sapling has grown tall
Lakshmi S. Menon
Today, October 10, is World Mental Health day. The term ‘mental health’ brings to mind an image of silent suffering. ‘Silent’ since unacknowledged by a society that remains ignorant and hence largely unaware that mental illness is also an illness, and not a taboo.
silence that defeats
a bird with a broken wing
fit body ill mind
by Lakshmi S. Menon
Saw somewhere a prompt on gratitude. So here goes:
hunger gnaws. Mind blanks.
food takes on added lustre.
rain falls. Parched earth smiles.
Lakshmi S. Menon
Hey everyone !
Imagine my pleasant shock while idly browsing through WordPress Blogging U homepage and finding therein a mention of this blog SEAMLESS WRITING on what I had commented about Writing 201. See also here at the Last Call that I sadly missed out this time 😦
So to all participants of Writing 201(Poetry) here are some words of encouragement:
To me, this course helped to release some very fossilised poetry cells and out came some palatable verses of different kinds depending on the prompts. Trust me, this course is cunningly devised to help you discover poetry skills you thought you never had. So here’s wishing you ‘all the best’ and I hope the ‘powers that be of this course’, namely Michelle Weber, Ben Huberman et al bring out the next version of it soon. HINT 😉
Day NINETEEN : NaPoWriMo 2015
And for today’s prompt (optional, as always!), I’d like to challenge you to write a landay. The lines in the heading bar are by a young Pashtun girl called Muskan, who penned these lines anonymously.
Landays are 22-syllable couplets, generally rhyming. The first line has 9 syllables, the second line has 13 syllables, the lines in ending in sounds of na or ma in the original. The form comes from Afghanistan, where women often use it in verses that range from the sly and humorous to the deeply sardonic and melancholy.
Check out this long investigative article on landays for a fascinating look into a form of poetry often composed in secret, and rarely written down. You could try to write a single landay – a hard-hitting couplet that shares some secret (or unspoken) truth, or you could try to write a poem that strings multiple landays together like stanzas (maybe something akin to a syllabic ghazal?)
Poem in process
Day SIX: Character Study
Today’s Prompt: Who’s the most interesting person (or people) you’ve met this year?
Our stories are inevitably linked to the people around us. We are social creatures: from the family members and friends who’ve known us since childhood, to the coworkers, service providers, and strangers who populate our world (and, at times, leave an unexpected mark on us).
Today, write a post focusing on one — or more — of the people that have recently entered your life, and tell us how your narratives intersected. It can be your new partner, your newborn child, or the friendly barista whose real story you’d love to learn (or imagine), or any other person you’ve met for the first time in the past year.
Today’s twist: Turn your post into a character study.
In displaying the psychology of your characters, minute particulars are essential. God save us from vague generalizations! – Anton Chekhov, Letter to Alexander Chekhov; May 10, 1886
Don’t just list their features. Tell us something about how their physical appearance shapes the way they act and engage with others. For example, see how the author of this moving photo essay, which documents the final weeks of a woman dying of cancer, captures the kernel of the woman’s spirit with a short, masterful statement: ‘Her eyes told stories that her voice didn’t have the power to articulate and she had a kindness that immediately made me feel like we had been friends for years.’ Give us a glimpse of what makes this person unique. We all have our own quirks, mannerisms, and individual gestures, both physical and linguistic.
The Dignified Beggar
Would you associate dignity with a beggar? But that is exactly how it was with this old, emaciated man who begged at the same spot everyday, a few yards away from my home. He would come early in the morning and set himself up. Neatly he would arrange his mat, plastic sheets, begging utensils and sometimes when it was very sunny or rainy, an umbrella to shield his head.I invariably would give him some food, left over from the previous night, or at least a banana or two.
He was almost bald, with wide-set eyes, a prominent nose, hollowed out cheeks, a weak chin and a slow smile when you acknowledged him. He would quietly sit there till evening, a little apart from the others, silent and reflective, a contrast to the noisy squabbles near him. While walking past, some days I’d have nothing to give him, but there was no protest from him, no demands, said or unsaid. He would just be — placid, content, patient — no ire in his demeanour. I marvelled at that and wondered about his origins.
Beggars in India, like the homeless elsewhere, are not all born poor. Often extenuating circumstances — a natural calamity, a family tragedy, mental illness and sheer apathy to the old, reduces them to begging. It could happen to anyone, I mused.
One day, my dignified beggar was no longer at his spot. I surmised with regret that he had passed on perhaps, penniless till the end, but with the richness of his spirit intact.
Day FIFTEEN: NaPoWriMo 2015
A HAIKU on Poetry
when I pen poems
floodgates release, heart opens —
© Lakshmi S. Menon & SEAMLESS WRITING