Minisons galore for April 20 TSL Napowrimo's prompt

 Minison 1

We live fourteen

April 20th Prompt by Reena Prasad: write minisons, the form, TSL's Napowrimo freely themed. Rebel Minisons. (4 and 5 need to be reworked)

Take 1.

We live fourteen.

Take 2.

If

the camera

never lies, is

that why her pic

gets more love than?

Take 3

Title: Found on Lay's cover and altered to suit my purpose minison (not a part of the minison)

Authentic chees -

Take 4

Fourteen letters

of the alphabet

Fourteen words

Fourteen lines

Fourteen lives

Fourteen breasts

Fourteen wives

Fourteen loves

Fourteen deaths

Fourteen bodies or corpses

Fourteen hammers

Fourteen knives

Fourteen times fourteen

Fourteen repeated

Take 5

The pink shoe flower

The rhododendron

The hibiscus

The bougainvillea

The stamen, the pistil

The shape of the jasmine

The scent of a woman

The waif of the moonlight

The glowworms of starlight

The butterflies of sun motes

The golden pollen

The tickling green grass

The tinkling windchimes

The sonnet at last

A funny set of linked minisons of 14 words each where my Hindi approximates Modi's English

"DOLAND", CORONA DID NOT GO!

Mithron

Bhaiyon aur behenon

you diyas lightified

you bajaofied thaalis

you kumbh melafied

You

chanted "go corona go"

You burnt effigies

Of Greta

Rihanna

all rakshasis

corona devis

But

Corona did not go

Do not worry

Let's see what Modi will do

Modi hai to mumkin hai

"Hamara Bajaj" hai hi woh

Mithron

Bhaiyon aur behenon

Minisons next set

So this Thrissur pooram

is around the corner

elephants and men

not many women

Will they hold it?

For votes?

I don't know

Death is cheap

These days

Votes matter more

As in Sabarimala

Left, right or centre

Priest must be Brahmin

Women can't enter

Dalit is still Dalit

Lucky I am not in

Kerala anymore

Minison last one (a continuation of the previous one)

If you ask me

I'm with the elephants

Set them free

They're the gods.

Not the humans

Not the devotees

Not the temples

Not the gods

Not me

Feby Joseph

writes a minison (mini suns and mini si(g)ns) using my poem for the 'found' technique

#NaPoWriMo2021 – TSL NaPoWriMo – Minison – April 20th – Ampat Koshy Reena Prasad

Turkish Delight

*(or waking from dreams)

Found from Ampat Koshy’s “Turkey: An Interlude: Internal Realism/Flight Stop-Over/Turkish Delight”, part of his large poem Swapna Sundari from the book The Blue Hours

Was not about the

idea – (cold turkey)

Beethoven in the

Ninth, lives that

My life… Jeddah to

Tripoli – a rumble;

Wings to Nabokov –

Lepidopterist’s

Butterfly story…

(Flash Tiger Moth)

Kerala was magic

Realism let it go

Never a nymphet, I

Still pay the fee.

© Feby Joseph

TSL Napowrimo 20th any themed Shadorma Prompt given by me and here are the 2 poems written on it.

 April 19th TSL NAPOWRIMO Prompt any themed Shadorma given by Koshy AV

"Nothing comes

Nothing goes, happens"

Nothing stays

Nothing is (alternate line: Nothing, twice/thrice)

Except this, that I go on

I will beat Nothing.

Shadorma 2 TSL Napowrimo prompt

Ziggurats*

in the memory

History

Babylon

Or maybe Sumeria

Word in the mind porn

*"Ziggurat, pyramidal stepped temple tower that is an architectural and religious structure characteristic of the major cities of Mesopotamia (now mainly in Iraq) from approximately 2200 until 500 BC. The ziggurat was always built with a core of mud brick and an exterior covered with baked brick. It had no internal chambers and was usually square or rectangular, averaging either 170 feet (50 metres) square or 125 × 170 feet (40 × 50 metres) at the base. Approximately 25 ziggurats are known, being equally divided among Sumer, Babylonia, and Assyria."

April 18th TSL's NAPOWRIMO Prompt by Lily Swarn Your favourite chair and why you like it

 TSL's NAPOWRIMO Prompt April 18th Prompt given by Lily Swarn

My Favourite Chair and Why I Like It.

My favourite chair was a red bean bag

They said it was from Italy

We bought it from Ikea

But the Ikea was in Jeddah

We were happy to buy it

My wife was with me and my children

We sent it back by air cargo

It sat in the front room of our rented house

In Bangalore

After a while, it developed a rent

The stuffing came out, small balls of white styrofoam pellets

We got it filled and the rents stitched

again and again

twice or thrice

It was everyone's favourite seat

You could call it a hit of a seat, not a hotseat

Mine, my wife's

My son's

My daughters'

My nephews' and nieces'

Their uncles and aunt's

And others on my wife's side of the family

And friends

Finally

Like all good things must

The rents and tears multiplied disastrously

Gaping mouths one too many

Too worn and torn to be repaired

We put it out of its misery

It came to (an/its/the) end

But remains green in my mind

(Though red)

And memory

Who said things die?

If I ever get the chance

I will recreate it

A huge red bean bag with styrofoam pellets in it to make it soft

Hugging you

Lovingly, like the ones who love you

One that accommodates to the shape

Of the person sitting on it

And leaves an impression on your seat

Favourite Chair Take 2 Porn Poem

I want my lap to be your favourite seat

Both of us wearing only skin.

I can feel your curves and you, my musculature

and together it seems we are catching fire and on heat

Something is stirring somewhere

And a blush steals across your cheek. I go bust

Get up and close the door

Driving the bolt in through the brass tack, and get back.

Favourite chair Take 3

That day when he went out he did not know

- let us not give him a name,

he is a child from any place violence torn -

another had too with a bomb in his hand,

another with his mother.

They all look the same, said those Others

When the soldiers aimed their guns

they mistook one for another

and he it was he who died;

not the bomb thrower

When his mother came on the scene

weeping fit to wake the dead

she took him in her lap

a 21st century living Pieta

and he held her and before he breathed his last

he said, "mother, your lap

was always my favorite chair"

But her tears did not wake him from the dead

any more than his words could

What was done remained done

And what was said made no difference

to anything or to anyone.

Oh, Candida

Satin smooth

And ivory

It decorated the floor

On four legs

On damask

A living, moving throne

Only one could it ascend

And upon it, regal

Be seated

Be allowed to pat, caress

That royal steed

One alone climb astride

To rock or ride that horse

Gleaming ivory its haunch

Only one could straddle

Only one could stoop to conquer

Tame or break it

Take it to war

Earn its love and saddle, buckle it

In the land of love and lust

One get it to trust

Version 2

Oh, Candida

Satin smooth

And ivory

It decorated the floor

On four legs

On damask

A throne

Only one could ascend

And upon it, regal

Be seated

Be allowed to pat, and caress

That steed

One alone climb astride

To rock or ride

Gleaming ivory haunch(es)

Only one straddle

Stoop to conquer

Tame or break it

Take to war

Earn it; saddle, buckle it

In the land of love and lust

One, get it to trust

Abecedarian poem TSL Napowrimo prompt by Kashiana Singh April 17th and an old ekphrastic poem plus another small new poem

 Abecedarian poem TSL's Napowrimo Prompt by

Kashiana Singh

April 17

After bathing comes daydreaming

Ever fascinating:

"Green hexagons in Jeremiads.

Krypton lost.

Meursault necks.

On. Pluto

Quails. Racccoons?!"

Stop. Time unspools.

Verity/verily wan, xenic.

You, zen.

Fauna hid in the tall green grasses

April 17 2013

with fauns

and yellow- leaved satyrs

but one day she met her nemesis

in a dark man who fair women in a pool

desired

and fauna fell in love

fell ill

one day fauna died

fauna is dead, like god, they said

and pan, the great goat, with his flute is too

only the dark man and his maids in the pool

survived to tell the truth you view - (you view was originally to the blue)

Version 2

Fauna hid in the tall green grasses

with fauns

and yellow-leaved satyrs.

But one day she met her nemesis

in a dark man whom fair women in a pool

desired

and Fauna fell in love,

fell ill.

Fauna died.

Fauna is dead, like God, they said

and Pan, the great goat, with his flute is too.

Only the dark man and his maids in the pool

survive to tell the truth you view -

Painting by James Price Waterhouse (I think)

Close your book

April 17 2017

Close your book

Focus on life

Not on the ones who did/do not care

On the failures

Or the strife

But on the ones who did

The victories

And the

"Abundant Life".

Three small but lovely poems, the second one published in Glomag recently.

 The mother is brown

The seed is blown

The tree is born

Earth, wind, fire

The water, drawn

The husbandry, fed

The grass, by feet worn

Earth, fire, wind

The ether sings

Of gales, rings & ripples

Of radio waves

Fire, wind, earth

Five elements

En-circle my life

Will en-fold my death

Wind, earth, fire

Glory Sasikala

GloMag

S7Sposcdnsorehd

There's no place for hope on this Earth? Sad...

Ampat Koshy

 January 2021

HOPE

Hope is the white dove

that no longer exists

with the green olive leaves in its beak

that has to be dreamed into being from above

into a new country

that too must be dreamed into being

where she can find a resting place for her feet

and her mate can join.

Adapting

What is life

without love

sex

romance

and praising God for making a tree

as only He can

or without standing and staring

when feminine beauty passes by

and not writing poetry?