The quilt of earth shields an
unborn silver plant.
The soil rejoices as it imagines
unified leaves topped
with a purple crown.
This was written for Colleen’s Double Ennead Challenge No. 7. This week’s challenge is to use the poetry Oracle to create a Double Ennead.
The poem below was written for Colleen’s double ennead challenge No. 6. The Double Ennead comprises five lines with a syllable count of 6/5/11/6/5, (33 SYLLABLES per stanza) 3 STANZAS EACH = 99 SYLLABLES, NO MORE, NO LESS! During this month, poets were challenged to use the image below to compose their poetry (ekphrastic poetry).
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
floats in the wind’s song,
wavers and shivers at the sound of thunder,
calms at the sky’s blue folds
and their white patches.
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
looks for life in hills,
stills at the urgent cries of pouncing eagles,
rubs wings with a goldfinch,
croons with small songbirds.
Lone thrush flies with the breeze,
stares at earth’s colors
flies to join golden finch in the red maple,
cuts into samara
finds home in lush warmth.
The poem below has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge No. 5, conducted by Colleen. This challenge starts with the double ennead of 99 syllables reduced to 48 syllables to 24 syllables to finally, a haiku (12 syllable poem).
Double ennead (6/5/11/6/5)
The pale green butterfly
seeks a pale green leaf
wanting to spread his body on his shelter
fluttering his wings and
breathing the leaf’s scent.
Breathing in a way that
only the leaf hears.
His tiny chest heaves and falls to the music
of the dark, roaring sea
and his eyes quiver.
The butterfly travels
alone to his land
of hazy dreams where he drinks from pale flowers
that has a shade of green,
the leaf unaware.
48 syllable poem (3 stanzas 4-7-5)
Pale butterfly
spreads his body on the leaf
breathing in her scent
His chest rises
to the music of the sea
as his eyes quiver
Butterfly soars
in dreams and drinks from flowers
the leaf unaware
24 syllable poem (1 stanza 6-6-6)
Pale butterfly finds home
in leaf only to chase
his unfulfilled yearning
Haiku (12 syllable)
flailing summer
he leaves life
finds home in mirage
The earth gently opens
to show frail patterns
of leaves, green and purple, basking in their poise
before pulling back to
guard their sibling blooms.
Quails chatter in a calm
extinct birds’ language,
showing off their tanned wings to partners, hushing
at the delicious spray
of dew on their beaks.
Huge mountains and plains still
while oceans whisper,
as skies pour down, drenching tiny and huge lives
soaking the brownish sand
in colors of joy
The poem above has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge. Thank you, Colleen, for the opportunity.
I sit in the General Hospital, waiting for my turn when I hear a loud wailing. Expecting to see a child, I am shocked to see an elderly lady in a wheelchair, crying with her eyes tightly shut. I am deeply disturbed and could see that the other patients are uncomfortable too. This incident reminds me of an old cleaning lady in our condo whose eyes glistened as she told me how lonely she felt as her children and grandchildren lived far away. There is another instance of a man in our neighborhood who is dreadfully scared of dogs but has to walk his daughter’s dog, as she is too busy to do so. As I walk away from the hospital, I see an elderly man staring into space.
His treble
the language
of wrinkles
He manipulates when
he is 3 months old
honing himself each day
while his mother
retains the bliss
of his ‘innocence’.
Cold cut through her skin,
seeped into her bones,
and clutched her shivering heart
as its icy grip spread
all over her body.
Stacked logs on the fireplace
could not warm her frosty breath
and heavy blankets failed
to comfort her chilled body.
Then it happened.
A tiny feeble hand
touched her heart
and blood gushed
into her body, filling
her with maternal warmth.
Her cold ears melted
in the soft babble
of cooing noises.
Her eyes trembled open
to soak in the warmth
of the tiny stranger and
she forced herself up
with outstretched arms.
The old lady sits in the corner of a
park bench, overlooking
her nursing home.
She laughs if spoken to,
her toothless smile as
pure as that of a baby,
a testimony to her
lost memories.
She does not remember
her husband with whom
she shared 40 years of pain nor
does she remember her children
to whom she gave 30 years of
her health. She fails to recall
her father who was never there.
She has a fleeting memory
of a young woman who birthed her,
fed and sang to her,
cried and laughed with her
and has now become a picture
in her ancient house,
never growing old.
The old lady sobs softly
disturbed by vague thoughts of
her mother, alarming her caregivers.
Then she is back to senile
laughing self as those around her
sigh in relief.
dark lane
a ghost in every breath
I take
call2read 