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Helplessness

Day twenty three of NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a couple of elevenies. I thought, I should write three.

Rage,

Engulfs you,

Burns you up,

Brings out destructive urges.

Helplessness.


Despair,

Sinks you,

Sucks your energy,

Can’t leave your bed,

Helplessness.


Frustration,

Takes hold,

You get stuck,

No room to manouver,

Helplessness.

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Concrete Landscape

Day twenty two of NaPoWriMo required me to write a georgic. As I have gotten used to, I thought about twisting the prompt and writing an antithesis of a georgic with hopefully, a satirical feel.

Better weapons and a stronger army,

Is what every developing country needs.

A strong economy enables this,

Through a rapid industrialization.


Industries may rise, where farmlands once stood,

Efficient farmers can work with less space.

Mining and timber industries must thrive,

Forests and environment won’t take us far.


Animal rights, tribal rights and the like,

Are stumbling blocks in the path of progress.

Activism thwarts our poor entrepreneurs,

From making the best of what nature gives.


Development sometimes needs trees to be cut,

We’re free to plant trees in another place.

Tribes and key animals can be shifted,

Should they come in the way of our progress.


We all know global warming is a hoax,

Those activists want to halt our progress.

They hate our country and our great progress,

We trust in money to take us forward.

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Unheard Conversation

Day twenty one of NaPoWriMo requires me to write about an overheard conversation or a phrase. As the name suggests, I chose to write about something I didn’t hear.

I was back from a full-day team outing,

Getting to a night time half marathon.

I stopped for a snack at a fast food joint.

One last meal to help me finish the run.


Probably not what my body required,

Not my first time explains complacency.

After a full day of overeating,

Maybe my stomach should’ve earned some rest.


Better to be stuffed than starving I thought,

With that happy thought, I stepped out of there.

I noticed someone standing in my way,

She had her head down, talking on the phone.


She looked up, as I was walking past her,

I recognized her as an ex-colleague.

I flashed a smile at her instinctively,

She smiled back too, but I froze in my stride.


There was a teardrop streaking down her cheek,

Her eyes appeared full, signalling more tears.

Should I keep walking as she was on call?

Should I stop to check if she was alright?


By then I had walked a little ahead,

Our eyes were locked, her phone still in her ear.

I walked away without interference,

Wondering what she might be talking about.

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A Tale of Three

Day twenty of NaPoWriMo. Today’s prompt is to write about a sport or a game. I decided to write about something simple.

The oldest of the three is formidable,

A synonym for strength and sturdiness,

It can withstand immense pressure at times,

This dangerous weapon is found in nature.

The second of three may appear quite weak,

A mighty weapon gains strength from it though.

Invented by Chinese, used everywhere,

Manifests its power in different ways.

The last of the three is made of metal,

The sharp edges revealing it’s purpose.

They work together, almost at all times,

The double team of inseparable twins.

When there is a decision to be made,

And two people cannot seem to agree,

This sacred game will come to their rescue,

Rock – Paper – Scissors, will find a way out.

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Eris

Day nineteen of NaPoWriMo. Today’s prompt is to write a poem about a creation myth. I chose to write about the mythology from ‘Principia Discordia’.


Principia Discordia describes creation,

Bow to our beloved goddess Eris,

Malaclypso the younger, our prophet,

Along with Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst.

We know that everything comes from the void,

Eris and her sister Aneris too.

Eris was born with seeds of many things,

55 years later her seeds took life.

Her sister Aneris was now jealous,

She did not have seeds like her sister have.

Aneris stole things claiming it was her’s,

Eris was sad but she kept giving birth.

Void was now angry, he sent a brother,

He would be called Sheogorath to Eris,

But known to Aneris as Jyggalag.

To us mortals he is Spirituality.

Eris is existence and disorder,

Aneris, non existence and order.

Their brother is doomed to go back and forth.

Once you reject everything, you’ll see truth.


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Namenclature

Day eighteen of NaPoWriMo. Today’s prompt is to write a poem with neologisms (made up words). 

Have you wondered how language develops?

From where or from whom do the new words come.

The dictionary addcludes existing words,

Inventing words are left to the public.

Like Shakespeared words, some are made by writers.

Instant messaging spawned a lota words.

New abbs and mods are born on every day.

Much to the dismay of the puritans.

Misspelt words gradually become alt spells,

What’s frowned on yester is norm on morrow.

Shortened spells sometimes confuse than save time.

There’s hardly a point to resist thonslaught.

The new world’s a nitemaer for English teachs.

When yep, yup, yeah, ya, s, mean the same thing.

When two letter words are shortened to one,

U vonder how far it cn rlly go.

R letters da nu words sometimes u think.

B4 nos made en3 in2 words.

How long before emojis take over?

Will language itself become gesture based?

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Nighttime

Day seventeen of NaPoWriMo. The prompt for today is to write a nocturne (a poem that carries the essence of a nocturne).


You can hear the clicking of the keyboard,

Crickets chirping, the only other noise.

The whole world’s asleep it may seem to you,

Except the friends you see are still online.

While most of the people are fast asleep,

Your mind’s brimming with excellent ideas.

Sometimes you wish you could try to sleep too.

Awake and rest with the rest of the world.

Staying awake while tossing and turning,

You find how bad the plan turned out to be.

You end up sleeping later than usual,

Your body clock going further out of sync.

You listen to the crickets still chirping,

You look up at the celestial bodies.

The world doesn’t realize what it’s missing.

Us nocturnal beings rest during the day.