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Italian Socks

Day twenty three of NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge is to translate a poem in a foreign language based on the way the words sound in English. Having done this in last year’s edition as well, I know the result won’t be pretty. Last year I desecrated an Armenian poem. This time I chose to ruin an Italian poem by Elisa Biagini. My sincere apologies to the poet. The original poem is called ‘The Darkness Dries Up’.

I’ll buy socks,
I may get two.
Respect!

Today,
I told them,
Monday is cold.

Never let the cold,
Bother thee.
For old and poor should eat.

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Discovery

Day twenty two of NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge is to write a nursery rhyme. This is something I never thought I would do. Since I like to think of myself as against establishment, I thought I’d write an anti rhyme.

You start your schooling, with rhymes and songs,
It’s a fun and easy, way to learn.
Fun is not the only thing, one longs,
When you find out things, knowledge you earn.

Learning should not, be seen as a task,
Books cannot teach, what experience does.
To find the answers, you simply ask,
Instead of learning, from your syllabus.

Kids are born curious, that’s what should drive,
Their thirst for knowledge, will not subside.
A syllabus stops, their prospect to thrive.
Books cannot have, all knowledge inside.

Let’s forget our rhymes, and observe all,
Let our interests, decide our pursuits.
That’s how you’ll find, about your true call,
Or else your labor, will not bear fruits.

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Liz

Day twenty one of NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge is to write a New York School Poem.

I never knew, that your name was Liz,
Till ’twas mentioned, on your wedding day.
The priest spilled the beans, then it made sense,
Why your email id,  sounded strange.

When deep in thought, you would stroke your chin,
Like an imaginary beard, bothered you.
Things were joyful, when you were around,
The stressful situations, mattered not.

I remember, your juvenile crushes,
Especially on, Robert Pattinson.
Your great passion, for the little things,
Made office life a lil bearable.

Bumping into you in Koramangala,
Was always an unexpected joy.
Your loud and uncontrollable laughs,
Would force my mind into happiness.

We shared a special love for good food,
Copying you, I had spicy Maggi.
Burgers and fries, were like staple food,
Even slapstick movies became fun.

Through you I made, a lot of dear friends.
The time we spent, fondly remembered.
You were discreet, and good with secrets,
Proving you are a trustworthy friend.

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The Strange Ones

Day twenty of NaPoWriMo. Today’s prompt is a tricky one. To write in the voice of someone in your family. It’s hard enough to keep track of your own thoughts. To speak from someone else’s perspective? How do I do that? Thankfully there was also a helpful suggestion. Try the voice of your four year old niece. Since I have a three year old nephew I thought he would be an interesting choice.

Why do you insist, on carrying me?
When I have legs, to take me around.
Why change your voice, when talking to me?
Its not cute when you, mimic my sound.

I’ll admit that I, like attention.
Don’t keep staring, at all that I do.
You might have, a noble intention.
But what I do, does not concern you.

Please let me eat, when and what I want.
My feeding is not, entertainment.
Whatever I do, why do you haunt?
Why do you behave, like a government?

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Learn to Draw

Day nineteen of NaPoWriMo. Rather odd prompt for today. To write a poem based on the names of seashells.

As long as I can remember,
To learn to draw, has been a dream.
Masterpiece, a stickman figure,
To blow off my creative steam.

To push myself, I thought I’d shade.
Making the face an incised moon.
A strawberry top I had made,
For lips by adding shades too soon.

A triangular nutmeg for chin,
A scalp like a Peruvian hat,
Unequal sweetbitter feeling,
Watching the disgraced art I sat.

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True Calling

Day eighteen of NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge is to write a ruba’i, which is a Persian style.

I always thought, I would figure out,
What I wanna do, without a doubt.
Rich and powerful, I thought I’d become,
Relishing my high status and clout.

Slowly did I realize, as I grew.
Power and money won’t see me through.
To have a deep and meaningful life,
Find your true calling and follow through.

There lies the biggest problem you’ll find,
Solving the riddle that’s in your mind.
Whatever you do with your time here,
Its important to always be kind.

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Fried Fish

Day seventeen of NaPoWriMo. Well into the second half of the month. Today’s prompt is to describe something by using at least three of the five senses. Being a foodie, I had to pick something edible to describe.

The fragrance from the kitchen was unmistakable,
The odor will repel those only into vegetable(s).
The crackling sound of fish frying in oil,
Puts me in a mood that no one can spoil.
The golden flesh under the crispy skin,
Makes me impatient till I stuff it in.
The flesh is gentle, even better when hot,
But beware, the bones are sharp I kid you not.
The heavenly taste and the layered texture,
May risk your wind pipe getting a puncture.

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