Glopwrimo 26

Glopowrimo #26

"There is none righteous, no, not one, all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."

Thou shalt not kill
Wrote God with his finger
On a clay tablet
And gave it to Moses
who came down
got angry, and immediately
made some of their own
kill others of their own
The sons of Levi
killed the other Israelites
for the sin of idolatry
while Moses broke the clay tablets

Thou shalt not kill
God wrote again
and gave it, this time
to Moses, in stone
engraved, so that
it could not be broken
and then they killed
and killed and killed
to capture what
Abraham had called
the Promised Land

Thou shalt not kill
said Jesus, to all
but after some years
of getting killed
Christianity
became the state religion of Rome
From being martyrs, they changed it
to being a religion of international killers, galore.

Thou shalt not kill
said Jesus to all
so they burned the witches
held the Crusades
massacred the Saracens and Turks
who killed back
over the Holy Land
hung the heretics
Catholics killed Protestants
Protestants killed Catholics and each other
All in the name of
Thou shalt not kill

Thou shalt not kill
even an ant
said Vardhamana Mahaveera
and Gautama Buddha, later
but Chandragupta Maurya
the Jain chakravarti
and emperor Ashoka
at Kalinga,
both gave the story
quite another twist
as does the fact
 that there are samurais who are senseis
in China, and in Japan
who are Buddhist monks.
Yes. Thou shalt not kill.

Thou shalt not harm
or hurt anyone
or anything
the ancient rishis
taught
in Mahabharath.
Thou shalt not kill

Thou shalt kill
said the Aryans
Kill the asuras
Kill the suryavanshis
So Rama killed
Ravana
Krishna helped Arjuna
to kill
Karna
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill

Thou shalt not kill
an innocent soul
said the prophet Mohammed
Peace be on him
but the Mughals came
and killed the ones
who live in what is now
North India
Just or All the same
Thou shalt not kill

Time would end
if I kept on listing
Buddhists in Myanmar killing the Rohingyas
Jews in Germany killed in the Holocaust by Nazis
and in Russia killed in the pogroms by Orthodox Christians
Palestinians in Israel killed by the Jews
Hindus in Pakistan and Bangladesh who got killed
Muslims in India now getting lynched
Christians in Sri Lanka who just got bombed
Partition killings on both sides of the border
The British who killed Indians
The whites who killed the blacks and the aboriginals
who had earlier killed each other as tribals
Godse who killed Gandhi
Sikhs who killed Hindus and Muslims
Hindus and Muslims who killed Sikhs
Those gruesome riots
When Indira was killed
where Sikhs were killed
Communists who kill everyone else
Those everyone else who kill communists
Hindutva fanatics who killed Gauri, Passare and Dabolkar
Atheists who were killed
Atheists who kill others
China that kills

Thou shalt not kill

Animals killed
Birds killed
Trees and plants killed
Insects killed
Water, air, earth, fire, ether all killed, murdered and so the earth killed
Husbands who kill wives
Wives who kill men
Men who kill women
Children who kill parents
Parents who kill children
Families, tribes and clans
who kill each other
and others' families, tribes and clans
Rich who kill the poor
Poor who kill the rich
Caste-based killings
Honour killings
Serial killers
Random loss of temper or self-control killings
Revenge killings
Money-based killings
Suicides
Fratricides, matricides
patricides, pesticides
genocides, homicides
every other fucking -cides
Pakistanis who kill
Indians who kill
Armenian genocide
Serbian genocide
Syrian genocide
Bosnian, Herzegovnian and Latvian genocides
The Sri Lankan genocide
Governments that kill
Armies that kill
Nations that kill
Laws that kill
Law keepers who kill
The lawless who kill
The law breakers who kill
The outlaws who kill
The in-laws who kill
Everybody takes a side
Nuclear deaths
Hiroshima Nagasaki
World War I
World War II
Bhopal deaths
Chernobyl and Fukushima deaths
Thou shalt not kill
Everyone's a killer
Everyone kills

Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill

Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not kill

Glopowrimo 25

Glopowrimo #25

That icy heart
those icy hearts
skin sandalwood brown
that would
if knifed
bleed ashen drops
yet still fragrant
those faces malevolent that made me drown

The skeletal veins
of crushed, cold, leaves
slush-white-wet
that carpet the ground
under yon black-branched sky-leaning trees

The bitter-gourd tasting nipples
of the she-wolves
in this untimely rain's torrential sleet
stinging their skin like needles of guilt
at being unable to reach their wolf-cubs, to feed

The black horse galloping through
the snow-covered sunflower fields
on which sits a ghostly damask-red clad woman
a black rose pinned to her bared leprous-white breast's crevice

Pierced by the dagger of her ice
My heart feels heavy, sinking; this dark, gloomy night
Whilst the season whispers "everything dies"
Does this last season want to take my life?

All about imagery

A simple note I just wrote that someone in here may find useful based on today's Glopowrimo prompt.

For those who don't know the kinds of imagery there are and that you can use:
Based on Keats' To Autumn'
They are:
1. Visual imagery - for seeing. "the vines that around the thatch-eves run"
2. Auditory imagery - for hearing. "in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn.. lambs BLEAT...crickets sing...the red breast WHISTLES"
3. Tactile imagery - describing the sensation of touch. "barred clouds..."Touch the Stubble"-plains with rosy hue"
4. Gustatory imagery - sense of taste. "to...plump the hazel shells with a 'Sweet' kernel"
5. Olfactory imagery - sense of smell "drowsed with the 'Fume' of poppies"
6. Kinetic imagery - sense of movement "thy 'hair soft-lifted' by the 'Winnowing' wind."
7. Organic imagery - describing a thing without naming it in such a way the reader correctly guesses it name, i.e; accurately. If the great ode or poem "To Autumn" did not have a name, it would be a perfect example of this.
9. Related to this is onomatopoeia where through sound you capture the sound of the thing being described - "And gathering swallows TWITTER in the skies"
10. And last of all synesthesia - "Synesthesia is a condition in which one sense (for example, hearing) is simultaneously perceived as if by one or more additional senses such as sight. Another form of synesthesia joins objects such as letters, shapes, numbers or people's names with a sensory perception such as smell, color or flavor."

Example:
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
"And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees..."

The last four lines are an example of synesthesia where Keats connects the sun and autumn to being conspiratorial innoculators, female and male, lovers, mischievous just past youth friends with benefits ("close-bosom friend of the maturing sun"), mother and father, making babies, having children, bringing them up, growing them- sexually, sensuously - making the shells plump, and the gourds swell - the inversion of verbs is really effective - and the flowers bud or of making them in other words pregnant, mixing sight and feel/touch in those images and making us see the process from outside/inside - a curious ability only the best or most deranged poets have!

Sermon not on the mount

Easter week thoughts or musings

Good morning, everyone.

Sentences that matter in the Bible are "do not be afraid" and "be of good cheer." It is true that the devil walks around as a roaring lion looking whom he might devour but faith is to see that we have already won the victory, by believing in the example of Christ. What does this mean, practically? It means that each morning you get up and are thankful to God for all his loving kindnesses and tender mercies. Yes, someone may be planning death and destruction to you, unknown to yourself, but your job is to leave his downfall to the law, the government, the army, the police etc., not to mention the ten universal commandments or his conscience by which he will be judged. But honestly, as the times are tough we have something more that has to be revived, and that is the need for prayer and faith in the word of God. And the golden rule. Jesus protected himself and others through prayer and faith in and obedience to and love of God's word as he knew that beyond a point even the authorities put in place to help us go about living peaceful lives, we who are ordinary citizens, would be ineffective as we are not facing powers that are human but constellated into groups as spiritual wickedness, satanic forces, evil spirits, and such can only by countered by prayer, alone and in groups, and love of God and obedience to his word after faith in it. These lesser powers from down below can only be defeated by the greater power of God and his allies from up above. Thus, just like black holes eat up all in its path, we become suns that give light to all in our paths to grow and flourish in green earths and this destroys the darkness and spreads light to bring about God's kingdom on earth. All the best, have a lovely day :) Pray without ceasing in your hearts for this is the will of God in Christ concerning us but with faith that he hears and has already heard and answers speedily when our prayers are aligned with His will. Most of all don't fear death as whatever comes after this can't be all that much worse for ordinary people and may be better and if it is nothing then that is fine too and don't worry about those left behind as it is not your job to bother about them, those left living will do that job. If no one does it also, God will, so do not worry or be anxious or think too much, in short, but trust God and live happily. So be it.

Glopowrimo #24

Glopowrimo #24 Illustrated dictionaries and illustrating dictionaries

Dictionary illustrations - for Dorling Kindersley version 2.0

What if
there was a dictionary
that read your mind
and when you turned to,
say,
for instance,
a word like
breasts
showed you not just any
generic pair
but the breasts of the one
you were thinking of?
Wouldn't that be
curious
& peculiar?
Curiouser and peculiarer
would be
one in which when you look at a picture
it shows you the word
you call that in
your mind,
like, say,
for instance,
for example,
suppose you called her breasts
judies,
in case her name was Judy,
and
turning to the picture of those mammary glands
the page says
instead of the usually used word
this one.
Judies!
Would such dictionaries -
Illustrated dictionaries and illustrating dictionaries -
that read you
and your mind -
not like the ones
that you and your mind read -
be welcome
or hated,
dreams
or nightmares?!

Glopowrimo #23

Glopowrimo #23 Ettadimoorkhan**

What one loves
is the unpredictability
of being coiled up inside
in the empty water pot
left in the bathroom
by them in monsoon
and out the next
and their fear
They did not know I am my own master
though by themselves they cannot make out
mostly
whether master or mistress of my fate I be
Then I slither out and they freeze
not knowing
on many nights
I have played with their child
swaying to my hood, tongue and eyes
herself asleep
They freeze and then they brandish sticks
I slip, slide, laugh and I hiss
as long as that hole is not found and blocked
I know that this game is merely hit and miss
I love the green fields
There I am free
Even the mongoose is afraid of me
Sometimes in the water I see me
All length and scales and darting tongue and shades
of black and gold that women love
As for red, that's only if I bite
which I seldom do except for prey
All gleaming I come and all gleaming I go
I am the architect of my own fate!
*Eda murkha, they call the ones they consider a villain
Not knowing I like my fun, jokes and games
as much as they -
the only pestilential race!

** 8 foot cobra

* you cobra

A poem
A day
Keeps
The Blues
Away.

Millais

Glopwrimo #22

Note- I have purposely presented the pair as mother and child, though to Millais they were two sisters, by taking poetic licence.

She hides in the fold of her mother's head scarf
Her blue skirt tattered and threadbare, worn, torn
She looks at the double rainbows, afar
(The sky still dark, though the rain gone away)
A rare sight, first-time seen; but breathes not to her
Mother, on whose scarf a butterfly fli(r)ts
To its soft texture and rich colour, drawn
Again invisible to its neighbour
The fields are golden and green-yellow with corn
The trees thicker green, and afar are houses and cottages
An accordion in her mother's lap is
Which she plays when in town to get money for them
There are sheep and cows in the meadows and further off horses
Nearby there is grass, brambles, wild white-lilies and there's the texture of the cloth
worn by her and the girl, the brown shades and the blacks
The beauty of the scene is so wrought
That we could gaze for hours at it
Trying to decipher each note, each bird, each sun's mote
(And feel our hearts' swell and our breasts' burst
And our eyes begin to moisten, in hurt.

Millais, if ever I met you I would ask
Why did you grieve me thus with such art?
So perfect in its eye for detail
Making us cry out, why is she thus?
And her daughter, peeping out from behind
Her mother's long head-covering, no word
In her mouth, as painting speaks through
Sight to the eyes, and to the heart
Not to the touch or the taste or the smell
Her boots showing she is meant to walk miles
With her mother, so they have to be a hardy pair
Such art makes us fall down and worship, after
We shed our tears; makes less of us, and more
Realising our treasures, and wanting to help
Those who are richer in some things like music but not
As fortunate in some other, like us
And where is her husband?
Or lover, or father
Or mother?
We become all that to her
We want to fill up the need in the small girl
And rush to their aid. What a painting!
We bless God who gave such power to man
To pictorialise such a piteous scene so well
And gave us the power to complete his art
By unlearning 'seeing' and the 'art' of thinking
By re-seeing and re-thinking on its depths and improving our selves
This poem began as an ekphrastic ramble
Forgive me if it meandered into sermonising
Real tears made me wax didactic
Forgive me, take what you can, and leave the rest.

Rising star

I'll turn up, the proverbial bad penny
Just when you think you finished me off 
And I am done with and gone forever
Though you want to get rid of me
You all who think you can shake me off
Like rain after a thunderstorm
from your raincoat
or snow you can brush off your coat
in winter
Like drops of sweat you flick off
And patterns on the window pane
Just a passing phase
But I'll be there, still, among the rising stars
Always, and all ways.

Pinakini Naik's first ever review is of my book Scream and Other Urbane Legends

Sharing my review on the awesome book Scream and other Urbane Legends ! 😃

Scream and other Urbane Legends by the creative powerhouse, poet, critic, academicianDr. AV Koshy is an eclectic collection of 28 short stories and a novella. It features some hard hitting, surreal stories that invite the reader to drop linear thinking, stay alert and dive into exploring twist and turn dreamscapes of fiction and fantasy where unique plots shape shift, quicksilver-like on the story teller’s perceptive canvas.

Once I picked up the book, I couldn’t put it down and finished it in a single sitting, a thoroughly enjoyable read indeed. The stories bump and flow into each other creating an eccentric rhythm not unlike the onset of vivid rapid eye movement (REM), lucid dreams, etched and borne in the cradle of paradoxical sleep, impacting the reader’s subconscious mind in a such a way that it tends to revisit certain plot twists in the mind’s eye to gain deeper insight into the stories and comprehend what might have been missed in the first read.

Death is a recurring theme used as a common thread to interweave the stories with an existential ambience. The minimalist and non attached style of narration reveals what’s absolutely necessary and leaves the rest to imagination, open to interpretation, which works in the favor of the book. This deliberate space allows the reader to absorb, contemplate, savor what has been left unsaid.

Some stand out moments in the short stories were in ‘Aouda: The Confluence’ where the character, Asur, transitions effortlessly from driving a car on a hot desert highway to swimming underwater in the ocean to have a casual conversation with a brown seahorse; Mystical and intriguing viewpoints presented in ‘The Creation Myths on Poetry: A Trialogue’ require a reread to be fully absorbed; The understated melancholic beauty of the short but eloquent piece ‘The Last Scarecrow’ is brilliant in its craftsmanship; The sci-fi story ‘Written on the Body’ reminded me a bit of the movie ‘Cloud Atlas’ directed by the Wachowski brothers, in how beautifully the futuristic scenes flow, then culminate into the ultimate sacrifice of love and life offered by Bride Rose and Kay who save the world with a complete reboot.

The book saves the best for the last and ends with a beautifully woven, intense, self exploratory novella, Anamika. The evocative prose has an autobiographical tone,layered with subtle sensuality, erotic at times, embellished with inlaid poetic gems throughout, keeping the reader deeply involved to its poignant, unforgettable end. A beautiful one liner that stood out and is self-evident in the story, “ Poetry communicates before its understood. “

To conclude, Scream and other Urbane Legends is an introspective book with a whimsical flavor, best recommended for readers with a poetic bent of mind or an eclectic mindset or anyone who is willing to step out of the box.

Easter 2019

Glopowrimo 20 -  Easter 2019 or The Surrealism of the Apocalypse

When he told them
tears in his eyes
they did not believe in it
that he wanted to gather them under his wings
like a mother hen does its chickens
that: in those days woe unto women
especially those who give suck
The falcon can no longer hear the falconer
We met them today, early in the day
It was Easter 2019
Terrible with no beauty born
There had been a great sign in the sky
The fire with its smoke that rose to the skies
and was watched by many observant eyes
while the spire fell down
The bats flew out
The belfries and the towers hung upside down
London and France fell down along with the other burning cities
The angels were finally released
and started to swing their censers
the smoke of which drove them all out of the temple
so they could no longer stand and serve
even the ministers
till it was fulfilled, of the curses and the punishments
The seven lightnings flashed
The seven thunders roared
The seven unclean frogs came hopping out of the mouth of the beast
The sky rolled back
The stars fell down with the figs
The moon turned black
The sea became blood
The flying scorpions came out to sting
Plagues fell upon the earth
like dead meteorites and comet showers
The ice caps melted
The end times had begun
The blood rose in the streets to the windshields of the vehicles
The thick viscous blood of the red-dimmed tides
And God withdrew
In a cloak of austerity
Pale as the horse ridden by death that came last
But before that came the other four
and the one that was red
had fire, fell, in its eyes
and the sound of thunder and hail in its tread
These are the days when the dragon rears its head
for it knows that its time is short
But men bit their tongues
and would not repent
So the curses will be full-fledged
For none turn to God
or what is evident
of God made to them in the things of nature
and their own conscience
and in Jesus risen from the dead
so that even if they hear they can no more comprehend
The light is gone
for a little while
It is the time of the darkness now
But the woman with the moon
under her feet
who wears the sun in her hair
whose face shines like
the midday sun
and walks on rainbows and pauses at the turning of the stairs and gives birth to the little child
who will lead all the nations with the lion and the lamb
is waiting in the wings
to upstage
after this carnival and frenzy of death
to be unleashed upon the world for a time
to bring back the balance again
Lady of the flowers
not desert born, but brought up there
who is this that you bred?
Are these not the children of the one
who is risen from the dead
Is this not the bride he will wed?
Will time not become a scroll he rolls up
on the day he judges the quick and the dead?
Do not surprised then at how many are going to be found undead
Or if the streets run rife with blood
and children be found headless
women grieved, and torn apart
and every other horror witnessed
For it all must be
before it can be
that human-kind again is saved.
So bear with me
and my ill-tidings
and patience may gain you a berth
in the new heaven
and the new earth
when the darkness passes, and there is again no dearth.

Till then. I am loath to tell you
it's only the beginning of sorrows.

My poem published today on Poetry!

https://view.joomag.com/glomag-glomagapril2019/0385545001555810578?short

Easter thoughts

Happy Easter - Christ is risen!

In the most ancient book according to some in the Western world which is the epic of Gilgamesh Gilgamesh sets out on a journey to find eternal life after building his famous wall for which he slays the so called monster Humbabu and conquers Lebanon' forests of cedar etc. He fails to do so as though he manages to get the plant that will give men eternal life and everlasting youth on his return journey where he dreams of giving it to all his people, a snake comes and steals it away from him.

The journey of the mythic hero, Gilgamesh, culminates when he fights with Iostre, his goddess, again unwisely, and dies as a great king who could not win eternal life but is famous for his battle, friendship, victory and the wall as well as the epic itself which he claims to be written by him, that shows Babylon was great during his time.

The journey of Christ is the culmination of and the reversal of what is wrong with the epic of Gilgamesh, where Christ slays the dragon/serpent Satan, builds an eternal kingdom, the kingdom of God, and comes back form the dead to give eternal life and everlasting youth to all who believe and fittingly his resurrection day celebration came to be named, albeit paradoxically, after 'Iostre'! Christ symbolizes the downfall of the earthly, corrupt Babylon/Rome and its idea of kingship with its policies of colonialism, imperialism and expansionism and environmental degradation and the arrival of a new Jerusalem which is based on entirely spiritual principles that is therefore undying, eternal and infinite and not a political kingdom, as it is based on the principles of faith, hope, love, mercy, grace, etc., and is the fulfilment of the 'promised land' of Moses. This is actually the significance of Easter, to have peace on earth and good will to all human beings. The message of peace on earth has been extended and kept alive most in the East by Buddha, Guru Nanak, and others of that spiritual mettle.

Easter poem

Before the Morning

Before you hold the record for height
you have to hold the record for depth
Only after descending below the lowest of the low
can one's ascent lead to the Throne of thrones
Hence while his body lay cold in the grave
his spirit travelled to hell and to Hades
There preached he freedom to the captives
who had been washed away by the flood
and had not had the chance to hear Noah preach
and got from there the keys of hell and death
then ascended to Parudisa
Where he ate of the tree of life
and shared the fruit with the thief on the cross
soaring then to the heights of heaven
past and through and in all of the seven
He got the keys of the heavens
Re-entered his (c)old body
on the slab in the cave in a shroud
waiting for the first crack of dawn
while outside they mourned, not knowing his path
the one of the perfect, final, conquering, archetypal Hero
who has to defeat everything
sin, flesh, the world, death, and hell
before he can put on the crown
of the Lord of the Immortals
and ascend, after shewing himself
to the pre-ordained witnesses
to come back again, when the rest of the heroes
and heroines are become complete
in number and in power
to lead them in the golden reign
for the New Age to be born
when there will be no more tears

Published :)

http://www.destinypoets.co.uk/elegy-for-tina-by-her-brother-immediately-elder-to-her/

Published :)

http://duanespoetree.blogspot.com/2019/04/a-v-koshy-writes.html

Another new story up on Story Mirror

https://storymirror.com/read/story/english/s7qv37vv/wordlay

New story up on Story mirror

https://storymirror.com/read/story/english/j6oj2xoa/award-reward

Glopowrimo #20

Glopwrimo #20

Two Malayalis speak to each other in two different local English Vinglish accents - the first from Thiruvanathapuram and the second more from central Travancore.

"I yam valways lait for vurk, Gopan"

"I am olways lait going bak to reech hom, Cheriacho"

"Vat to do?"

"Nothing. Cuming for a smol?"

"Smal? Vy note a large?"

"Cum"

"Now aye feel better but the verld is spinning, Gopo."

I so streing sites too. As if that gerl was vinking at me, Cheriacho."

"Vich gerl? The vun in the boster?

"Eggsact seim vun"

"Have vun mo' large, she vill be sinking also laik the Taitanic."

Hahaha, then ve vill both go dowun"

"Yus, but she vil lift us up, hehehe"

"Yus, yus, what goes up must cum dowun"

"No, no, what goes dowun..."

"What goes dowun?"

"Laik every akshun has an iqual end oposit reakshun"

"Haha, but she is still vinking."

"Vink bak."

"Swupose sumun in the bar thinks aye yam vinking et him?"

"Aiyyo, athu preshnamakum. athu venda, let her vink on."

"Vink on, Vink on, mai pretti vun, vink on, vink on, said 'e"

Hehehehehehehehe yu are fully drunk, I see

Hahahahahahaha so are yu, I see

"I yam olways lait for vurk, Gopa, Gopo Gopan saar"

"& I yam vallways lait going hom, Cheriacha, cheriacho, mon cherie."

Listener's note: Even their accents changed fully to each other's by the end of this delightful ramble :D

Needs more work

Glopowrimo #19 - ABCDErian poem 2

Koshy's gallery of literary women - I failed in many places - maybe you can help me ;)

Alice in wonderland & through the looking glass
Beatrice who was Dante's muse so fair
Catherine whose love for Heathcliff was as wild as the hinterlands
Darling Wendy who made Peter Pan's heart flutter in bands
Elektra, who was in love with her father
?Felicity Porter, the TV serial girl so glam
?Gabriela Goddzer, her unknown TV sis
Helen whose face launched a thousand ships
I, the heroine in so many novels, including Jane Eyre
Judith and Juiet, both; who can forget
Kunti, the mother of Karna, son of the Sun
Laura who was turned into a laurel in Ovid
Magdalena Maria, famed, one of a kind
Nora, from Ibsen, who broke a doll's house
O, the mysterious woman in The Story of O
Panchali, the one who was everyone's pawn
?(Querelle of Brest, from Genet's masterpiece - a man!)
Rita, in Educating Rita, just great
Sita, who finally was swallowed by Ma Bhumi
?Tara, the goddess in Buddha's world, star
? Urania, the astronomy muse
Vina Apsara, from Rushdie's Groind Beneath her Feet
Wonder Woman, with her golden lasso
?Xanthippe, Socrates' wife
?Yekaterina, I am yet to create her
? Zinnia, the name of a flower.

Needs more work.

Glopowrimo 19 - 3 (women writers list) Please fill in

Auvaiyyar - Tamil Bhakthi poet
Beatrice Webb - little known, but potent
Chitra Divakarune - I haven't read.
Dorothy L Sayers - detective games!
Elizabeth Gilbert - eat, pray, love
Flannery O'Connor - Irish whey
George Eliot - stuck still with a man's name!
Harper Lee - the greatest, eh?
Irawati Karwe - forgotten but great
Jane Austen - who can forget?
Kate Chopin - Story of an hour!
Louisa May Alcott - Jo and her world
Mary Shelley - Frankenstein's mom
Nadine Gordimer- from South Africa came
Octavia E Butler - another not much famed.
Pearl S Buck - for whom writing was Good Earth
Qurrutulain an Hyder - River of Fire
Rowling JK - need more be said?
Sylvia Plath -though more may be named
Toru Dutt
Ursula K Le Guin
Virginia Woolf and her Waves
Willa Cather, the South's own daughter
X
Y
Zadie Smith - the eye of the tiger.

ABCDErian poem for Good Friday Glopowrimo 19

Abcedarian poem Glopowrimo #19

A is for Aramaic - the language that he used to speak that has now become extinct
A is for Alpha, that which was before the beginning
B is for the blind man who was so from birth he cured or healed
B is for our daily Bread that he wanted all to have
B is for the Bread of his Body that he broke for us
C is for Christ, the only one there is
C is for the cross that became a symbol for all suffering and the need to cross out the ego in our lives
C is for the Church, the ecclesia, called out, separated, to be like him
D is for the deep blue lake that he walked on, this Nazarene
E is for the Essenes who missed out on his ministry, reminding me not to
E is for Easter which shows one can resurrect and defeat death
F is for the Father whom he introduced to all
F is for the fish, Ichthus, in the lake of Galilee
F is for forgiveness, without which we can't go on.
G is for Good Friday where "Good" is the main thing
G is for the Gadarene swine who had to bear the brunt
H is for hyssop that washes all our sins clean
I is for Ieusus, King of the Jews
J is for Judah, whose Lion he is
J is for John, the Apostle of Love
L is for love that he said was all you need to learn to ascend
M is Messiah, of the world that believes him
M is for miracles done to show as proof to the world ready to believe
M is for the Marys, Virgin Mother and Magdalene
N is for the Name above all names
O is for the outcasts and lepers that he came to reach and touch
P is for Peter who was the one who most received
Q is for the huge queues that lined up to hear him preach the Sermon on the Mount
R is for the redness of the Blood that teaches sacrifice
S is for the Son, who is the Sun of the injeel
T is for the temple which now becomes our selves
U is for the union of God and you in him
V is for the vineyard mystic from which we our grapes with our feet do press
W for the wine that now we have to drink, and become, to others to giveng
W is for the Word that was in the beginning with God and was God
X is for the shortening of Christmas to Xmas which makes it commercial and for the rich
Y is for you all whom now I have to love as he did
Z is for Omega - as he is the Frist and Last, the a TO THE z IF YOU REALLY UNDERSTAND HIM

Glopowrimo 18 - Ode on the Death of a Favourite Mobile

"What female heart can gold despise
What cat's averse to fish?"
Asked Gray, in a fit of caprice
Unexpected, from one as he
But for men, we can't despise
'Gadgets', guns, bikes, and mobiles
You can add cars,comps and guitars
But mobiles are the latest craze
My golden Samsung Galaxy J 7
How snugly it fit in my palm
How many hours of gazing pleasure
Looking at its blue-black face
Till it fell down from my hand
Not once but seventy times seven
Stopped working
Visage shattered
Lies in a coma on my table
Cannot be resuscitated
Euthanasia is required
I vainly try to resurrect
Five years of my mobile life
'Who ever tried that did not fail'
Comforts me as I the corpse shake
Shed for me a few tears
For my Samsung J 7 Galaxy
While I keep on trying to
Make it work, at least rarely!

Glopowrimo #18 Elegy 1 For Tina from her brother immediately elder to her

Someone put some mud in his extended left hand
He looked at it, uncomprehending
Put it in, down there, a voice said
He looked down at his feet
And as his eyes travelled, from left foot forward
There it was
A two foot by one foot hole, dug in the ground
Holding the small box of wood
In a shape he could not describe
Not having the word for it
Ten years old is too young to know much
(Elongated, hexagonal, it was, he knows now)
He could no longer see that face
Only the clean, almost white, yellow of the wood's grain
Around him the voices which he could not make out, in refrain
of sad song or funereal chant of prayer
Around him the milling crowd of people, people, faceless, faces, known ,unknown, everywhere when all he wanted was to be left alone, by everyone
What had drawn so many there?
He opened his hand and let fall the earth
Watched it fall with no sound he could hear
And disperse into its tiny particles
Along with other clods of earth
'Dust thou art and to dust thou dost return'
Then he understood
Something wet his cheeks burned
He wondered had she discerned
The sound of the sand
Hitting her roof
That it was different
And from his hand
Then jerked
Out of that mad reverie
She was gone
Under, forever
Even her tiny face
Tiny, how funny, so close to her name
You just change one letter and a whole world shrinks and a person is gone
Only the hope was left
Of meeting in eternity or heaven
Or some other life
Or the memory
Or both, or whichever
Was more true
So with Nothing left to do
He left
Before they covered her and the box up
With spades and shovels and picks
Gravely, as befits a new grave
He does not remember if he turned and looked
One last time -
How lame! -
The scene to frame
Not knowing it would never fade...

Lost and found

If no one writes it is okay by me
I can write enough to make up for the rest
If some don't read it is okay by me
There is always someone else who will and tell me he or she
likes it all the same, and that is all one needs
to keep going on in the way I used to do or be 
when you were there. I just pretend it is still the past
close my eyes. It's yesterday and your poems and comments
Come in waves and memories
Like perfumes of Araby 
To soothe the fears in the child; the little, lost, and lonely me.

Just a blurb

Seventeen days - 21 poems.

Muse, I finally feel your presence with me
I am back in the flow, I am raring to go
I miss you as much as you miss me
Together we made such a team
Five each day if you were there
Now I have mellowed and come down to two
But today as the pressures increase
I may write five, and this is now two!

Glopowrimo 17 - Shifting points of view/ for Leonardo di Caprio and Kate Winslet

In the movie she was nude
In reality it was only to the waist

In the movie he drew her
In reality he was just getting to know her

In the movie they made passionate love
In reality it was rather hot in the studio

In the movie and out of it
He could not resist telling her her breasts were hot

In the movie they stood on the prow of the ship
In reality she was scared of how

In the movie they fell in love
In reality they told each other of their loves

In the movie the water filled the ship
In reality she wept at the tragedy of the Titanic

In the movie he died and she was left
In reality they were happy it was a huge hit

You can replay but not change
the ending, but in reality they did.

Glopowrimo Dramatic Monologue 2

Fateful women - Dramatic monologue of Vincent talking to Dr Gachet for the last time in his absence

So where was I, Dr Gachet?
May.
Yes, then I was not a painter.
But I was. Already. Effects appeared to me in colours
So when she rejected me I felt everything swallowed up in browns.
The Dutch school is very dull and full of dark and turgid colours and that must have influenced me unconsciously.
The miners at Rouen were all shades of black, green, and gold but strangely vivid like the night sky seen when one is having a fit of epilepsy
The women looked out of shape or carrying.
Perhaps there was something wrong with meto see them as they are, suffering, and try to draw them to evoke sympathy for them.
Later, there was that model Christine but she tortured me.
So I painted her in venomous blues and yellows that were not sun or sunflower or cornflower sky blue.
I painted my impressions, my thoughts, my feelings, I never looked at the brush or the colour something exact
I applied knife to canvas or squeezed the paint directly on
It lay thick on the world like a bad case of rash
like semen or food, left-overs at that
delicious and sometimes gone bad
And Rachel, she was orange and red
"Fou-rou" she called me but I made her bronzed
While I bled, tired of prostitutes and every one else
Strange sounds buzzed in my ears corresponding to colours
My head reeled as in the days of sun-stroke and heat haze and of my fights with Gauguin
I missed my brother, Theo
I missed my painter friends
I missed my miners
I missed May most pitiably
I missed my childhood and my family
I missed Paris but loved Arles more
I missed even the commune and the gospel
Now I have come to the end of days
This is my shot gun
I am in a daze
Talking to you
And will put things in place
The sun is in a mighty blaze
But even you are not here
Let me pull the trigger

Glopowrimo #17 (another one presenting another point of view)

For Antonie de Saint Exupery.

The little prince
sat on the beach
made sand castles so many, many
for the waves whom he loved.

The waves came up to him
surrounded
licked liked loved
embraced
caressed
washed bathed wetted pampered him
then withdrew
leaving
taking the sand-castles
with them.

Only
bubbles sinking
of froth into the darkening sand
as his companions, remained.

The sun, of another planet not his, in front of him
into the wine-dark alien sea, sank.

Glopowrimo #17 (mixing up two prompts from yesterday and today.)

I could say they reminded him of his mother

I could say they made him reach out for a cigarette

I could say they made his mouth develop a nervous tic

I could say they made his hands agitated

They wired his brain and unwired his mind

They made him lick his attractive lips

They made him lick his meaty chops

They made him run his tongue over his lips

They made him go mad

Did it want him like that?

Did it want him vulnerable, and dangerous?

Did it want him down on his knees, begging me please?

Did it want him to take them in his hands?

Did it long for his mouth and his lips and his tongue?

Did everything hang around this centre of bliss?

Did it or didn't it, Freud be hanged!?

It wanted a head to rest on it

It wanted a hand to be gentle to it

It wanted hands, later, to be harsh to it

It wanted whispers to run tremors through it

It wanted attention, it screamed for it

It wanted to be freed, to be seen, to be appreciated

It wanted to be taken or left to be. Just as it is.

It wanted more than the whole world could give

It was the tip of his unexplored planets

He was the waiter and he wanted his tips

It was an obsession, lack of control, possession

Was it only lust or more than it?

It wanted to be wet, to blow hot, and hot-cold

It was a poem with no end to it

"Oh, do not ask what is it."

If it lets you, come, go, make your visit.

Glopowrimo #16 - An Alarm Clock and a Glow Toy Sends You all a Poem :)

I begin teetiteetittiteetiteeing
at him
at six
Sometimes he lets me go on
for an hour
before he stirs

My numbers glow green
in the brightening...
before his hand
stops me
hitting me on the raised promontory of the back of my head
white
square
glass-faced
CASIO box
that I am
from 'alarming'!

When he was a new
father
at night from the open carboard or wooden toy-box
would climb out
Glo
and glow
see him and her
sleeping
with their two girls
all somehow squeezed rough and tumble
in on a small bed rumble toss turn and mumble snore
turn toss and grumble snort
Glo would laugh
as in the day time
he had heard him tell them
stories
of how in the night
the toys
would come out of the box
playing
in the moonlight
and starlight
and Glo's light
if there was no light
on a dark night
not knowing
it was so
nightly!

The fluorescent Glo
&
the phosphorescent hands of his alarm clock know
things are not as they seem

We, not them, seen from what they are
who they are
their side
their eyelessness
their non-being;
are illumined, luminous
joyful, joyous
weird
us human
beings
defamiliarizing our 'mundane'
and listing
our antics.

Teetiteetititeetiteeing.

Glopowrimo #15

An Elegy and an Ode to Notre Dame as a monologue
"Paris is burning" - Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins

If a church burns
it can be rebuilt
but if faith is lost
it is difficult to retrieve

A place of worship
can be big or small
here or there
great or humble
but it can be replaced
or even not...

It is fragile and imperfect
like the people in it
and a work always in progress
with a sign on its knocker:
construction and alteration going on

There have been churches
built with love
and churches built
with hatred too
love to those within
love to those without
hatred to those within
hatred to those without
and different combos of these four

A church is not
just a major, historical, significant, cultural landmark!
or only a mythical, archetypal warehouse you can ransack for images
but living
It is supposedly
a refuge for humans
made of people whose hearts are temples
given to
the service of God, and all

The bells and spires
the stained-glass art
the naves and kneelers
the pews and pianos
the pulpit and the  baptismal font
the cross and the hanged man
the rock and the Rock
the martyrs and saints
& all that aspire
to a higher eminence
came much later
only, into being
as symbols and icons
of something much deeper

First they - were - lived
and, yes, greater
which truth was also
found in the East
in the sermons of Buddha
in the words of Nanak
in the wandering minstrels
and their madrigals
in the sages who wrote
the Vedas and the Upanishads

All who aspire for the Light of God
and towards it
know that a church
is a place that is for it
open and skywards
founded in the earth
the symbol for Nature
and reaching for the sky
which is a symbol of heaven and the Universe
and full of treasures
made by man
to show his longing for the Divine

The art work in the Notre Dame
the writings of Hugo
and his hunchback
and the bishop and his candlesticks
are treasures
that will live on
never die
as long as time...

Nortre Dame will be rebuilt
as a call to all people
to return from their sins
of colonialism
imperialism
racism
patriarchy
gender bias
class differences
linguistic chauvinism
paedophilia, nun abuse, excesses in poverty, celibacy and obedience among and to the clergy
instead of purity, marriage and co existence while loving God
misguided nationalism, jingoism, fascism, fanaticism or zealotry
hatred of other sects and denominations
and other religions
all to be washed away

Again it will be filled
with songs and choristers
with incense and candelabra
with the signs of newness
for even our evil times
and the old Notre Dame in the mind
in memories
unvisited, but remembered
continue to be a hope
that what was can again come to be
to be a beacon of a lighthouse
of culture for the world
without its stains
but full of faith and love.

Copyright Koshy AV

I wanted to put two pictures of before and right now but poetry is/speaks better.

Glopowrimo #14 :)

His name was Dick. Now don't laugh. Isn't it better than Dirk, or Dirt, you carp? A single syllable is enough, it seems. To make some people want to barf. Barf it is, not bard, I swear. And her surname, it was Kant, not C*nt. Yes, as in the philosopher Kant. Don't know what you will do with such a dirty mind! If I said wussy, you would hear *ussy. What can I do if English is crazy? Now Dick and Daisy, - yes, it was not *ussy! - were about each other totally crazy. He was a square and she, well, a skirt. He, crazy about her skirt, and she, about his shirt. He was quite flirty, and she pretended to be shirty, till he lifted her skirt and she took off his shirt. They were a pair, and she had two pears he wanted to eat, so she gave him her seat. When it was night he said "I am your knight", and she gave him a slap on the tip of his... cap. Nightcap, I mean, you reader who can't keep your thoughts to yourself, and want me to write what is not right, to laugh at my gaffe. Now Dick and Daisy went for a ride, as Dick was 'in' Daisy's.., car, not care. Dick was a poet and Daisy a stripper, so to the bar they cavorting went, where Dick would read homonyms and homophones and Daisy let folks write homographs on her while they stuffed her stockings with cash as she suspendered herself or upended her legs on a pole. They play Johnny Cash in that joint and smoke joints.
Then a man called Sick tried to put coins in her bra. Sick, not sic. Dick had a gun and he took it out. He knew where to show his beef. A gun, dear reader, not his wussy, in truth! He shot Sick in his potbelly and Sick died. Sic. And sick! Daisy did not know whether to laugh or to cry. They took Dick away to the gaol next day, but he swore he would reach his goal next time. Sick to the morgue they took in a hearse driven by a horse  for his last rite and Daisy was left. But Daisy was right, to love Dick and not Sick, though the course of true love runs wrong pretty quick. What's with that and homonyms, and homographs and homophones we write? No telling, but no one can help standing and staring when beauty cums by. You gotta  hold on to it, through thick and thin, you gotta ride it, baby, hard and fast.

Long, long ago I had put a story on storymirror on Gaza which also came in my short story book Scream and Other Urbane Legends by Dr Koshy AV

Today was amazed to get this stats from story mirror - can't say I am not pleased! Would be lying - I am damn pleased! I mean 26225 reads and 540 likes! What on earth! Though it took a long time!

STORYMIRROR
LITERARY REPORT
11th April, 2019
Dear Ampat Koshy,

We are glad that sometime back you stepped into our army of literary warriors and began your journey to protect literature and reach out to millions of civilians. Your journey so far in the literary army battalion has been highly appreciated and we would love to share a glimpse of the same with you:

1. Number of contents written:
1
Contents Submitted

2. Number of views [All contents]:
26225
Total views

3. Number of likes [All contents]:
540
Total likes

4. Total minutes your contents have been read on SM [All contents]:
131125
Total reads

5. Average Editorial Score:
8
Average Score

After taking your work into consideration, we would like to formally designate you as our Literary Colonel.

Congratulations for the same.

As the Literary Colonel you are responsible to keep promoting heartfelt literature to millions of civilians and preserve it for the endless years to come.

Once again, congratulations on your new designation!
We look forward to keep reading and listening your stories & poems.

Here is the story if you want to read it.

"https://storymirror.com/…/sto…/english/33cutfnq/gaza-s-child"

# Glopowrimo #13/2 Vodoo doll :D

Brenda was a very cute and very pretty doll
When her owner grew up, a girl would come to call
Her name was Zelda, and she made Brenda rather cross
That Tom no longer wanted her but Zelda, after all
Brenda made a small girl, who was still rather tall
Stuck her full of pins, and, oh yeah, she looked like Zelda Koll
You could hear Zelda scream throughout that fall
As the pins went in, to make her creep and crawl
And Tom had to leave her, as they thought her mad an' all
Tom returned to Brenda, or being all alone:
Brenda smiled her cute, cute smile, and made lil' Zelda drown
As a fitting finale, to invert the usual tale
Of the vodoo doll. She killed her human doll.

Glopowrimo #13

Believe it or not
there are ghostly incantations
spells that are cast
at midnight, and in graveyards
tantric ones, some chants
invoking the help of spirits
that can bind a man or woman
to another
in strange charms
if done aright -
believe it or not!

There once lay a maid
on a perfumed bed
Her eyes were closed
her dreams were sweet
when suddenly she felt
a man standing by her
who reached for her breast
and said, "do not move",
who slid under her coverlet -
She froze into a trance
did she wake or sleep? -
while the stranger, at the chance
did his bidding, & left
When she woke up, next
there was nothing in the room
except for the curtains moving
moving, not at rest!

There once slept a man
in a flowery bower -
a king or prince, they said -
when a white light entered
his sleeping tower
took the form of a woman
floating 'bove the ground
beautiful, and then she laughed
taking off her wrap
He watched, transfixed, unable to move
as she climbed into his bed
When he woke up, she was gone
but the bedsheet was sweat-wet!

There are stranger stories
of love made to the dead
of necrophilia in a boat
to an old lover's corpse
by a man who had turned
to the left-hand
path, it was rumoured -
a rumour full of dread!

But the strangest one of all
was of a lady who, 'twas said
turned into a snake
to clasp to herself, in coils
her lover who'd just died
and with her forked tongue kissed him
often, in the neck
while his 'corse' she dragged along
to the sea, to sink
into its deep crevices
with him, fore'er, but cleft!

There are other tales too
of deeds done after death
of spirits meeting in the air
commingling in the sky
restless, restless in the heart
and to the end, beware!
Going through some turbulence
caused in this life, to them
ne'er able to cease from wand'ring
spirits wanting yet
union with other sprites or souls
cut from the same breath
tossing, turning, waiting for,
bodies to possess
to go, & try to fulfill then
their longings best left unexpressed!
Yes! There are other tales!