Day 16: Over the top praise

O Dear Boss ...

HR has asked me to

write a 360 degree review

but O dear Boss, how can I

write anything about you...

O you're the Jack Welch in leadership

the Steve Jobs in innovation

Vlad Putin, Kim Jong-Un,

Trump and Modi, all rolled into one

You're M S Dhoni, you never drop the ball,

You're Wikipedia, you're the know-it-all

You keep everyone in loop, you're the London Eye

Disrupting the normal, you're James Bond - The Spy

You're the black hole, you can shift paradigms

You're brainier than Sherlock Holmes, can even solve crimes

You're so well connected, you keep touching the base

Breaking a Guinness Record for you, is too commonplace

Look at your beauty, the world is awed

Handsome-r than Apollo, you're the Greek God

You're the Pope, globally revered

You're George Clooney with sexiest beard

You make everything shiny, you're Swarovski
You're such a sport, you're national hockey 

You got the built, you're Salman Khan

You're so mature, O you're Babylon

Gosh your jokes, you're funnier than an orangutan

You can do the impossible, You're my Hanuman

Boy, you got the jaw-line, 

O you're the Brad Pitt

Deeply humbled am I, 

this appraisal, I hereby submit

© Ankush Agarwal

18-Apr-2020

Day 15: A Poem on sound

She loved poetry
The buzzzzz of a bee
The whoosh of a tree
but, she didn't like the click of a key.

O She loved it when
choo-choo goes the train
whoops the singing crane
but she hated the drip-drop of the rain

The honk and the vroom scared her
The murmur and the hiss prepared her
Giggles and whispers felt tender
But, the boom, the hiss were terror

She gets goosebumps, when leaves rustle
Driiiin of the alarm, always hustles
It's simply poetic, the ruffle and shuffle
but it was gross, the crack of a knuckle

She even loved to read music
The note, the C-sharp, the octave-clef
But she would have preferred much more
not being born as a deaf.

© Ankush Agarwal

17-Apr-2020

Day 14: A dedication to my inspiration

Day 14 challenge to write about poet(s) who have inspired me, is both highly interesting and complicated. The writing-bug was injected in me by my hugely inspiring "Roli Didi" - and the major names, who have inspired me to write are many.

Hence, to do justice, I am writing the poem in two completely different styles. The first part is in the same simple childish style, with which I had started writing ages ago, and the second part is in the style of each of my favorite poets. As most of my earlier influences were in Hindi, today's challenge poem is also in my mother tongue.

Additionally, I have tried to divide each stanza in the second part in each of my favorite रस - i.e. शांत रस, श्रृंगार रस, हास्य, वीर and finally भक्ति रस।



उन दिनों, जब A. C. , जेनेरेटर न था

"बिजली चली गई", कमरे से निकलने का बहाना था

गर्मी की छुट्टियां, orange वाली आइसक्रीम की चुस्कियां

और बस नानी के घर जाना था ...


ऐसी ही किसी "जेठ की दुपहरी"

बैठे उस गलियारे में,

खेलते थे हम कविताओं की अंत्याक्षरी

लिखते लाइनें, इधर उधर के बारे में


वो लाइनें अब भी लिख रहा हूँ

कुछ संजीदा, कुछ व्यंग भरी

आप जैसा शायद कभी लिख पाऊं

है ये उम्मीद, अभी भी कहीं

--------------------------------------------------------------

मैं 'दिनकर', 'गुप्त', 'भारती' नहीं

जो गीत लिखूँ  कालांतर के

बस शब्दों में भाव बहे

उद्गम हृदय के अंतर से।


वर्णों की पुष्पमाल से,

हो श्रृंगार उस छवि का

सूर, तुलसी , रसख़ान  ने जिसे

अतुल्य सजाया था रवि सा ।


शैल, काका, और चक्रधर की

वाणी से ज्यूँ हास्य मिला,

यूँ मेरी पंक्तियों में भी

मधुर अधर से काव्य खिला।


जिन शब्दों की वीरता का

सुभद्रा जैसा न हो सानी

उन बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुंह से

मैं भी सुनूं कोई कहानी



हे श्वेतवर्णी , कलाधारा,

हो कविता की देवी तुम

मेरे शब्दों को शक्ति दे

माँ , इतनी विनती सुन।

Day 13: A non-apology for stealing

I wouldn't have done it otherwise
It was just too tempting
Who would've let such a precious thing go
But I do apologize for attempting

I am sorry if you felt bad
why did you keep it in open
Those three rings on its top
Oh! it looked so golden.

It was perfect, just like I wanted
casting its magic, far and broad
not too shiny, just so subtle
Even old jewelers couldn't forge

The first time, I had only touched it
It had filled me with utmost affection
A shiver had run down my spine
I had felt that special connection.

I didn't think you would notice
After all, you had plenty
But I'm now admitting
as I'm awfully guilty.

Dear neighbor,
I do love thee
But "Thou shall not steal"
is probably not for me

I do feel extremely sorry
for this request so absurd
but could you please, once more
remove your Wifi Password.

Day 12: Triolet

"What the hell is a Triolet ?",
A poet was once asked in a quiz.

He said, "It's the place you go after death."

"What! The Hell is a Triolet ??"

"Well, No easier answers, yet
So, now you know, this is
What the hell is a Triolet."

A poet was once asked in a quiz.

Day 11: A flower's story

Carnation flowers

Sitting in the park
On that winter's evening
sounds of kids were mixed with the birds';
A book of my favorite stories,
dozing off on the grass near me.
My eyes were fixed on that snoring page
when your fingers had first touched mine.

I remember, that day, you'd given me a blue carnation.



You visited me in the hostel room
The warden frowned but let you in
You didn't care for my friends' pretence
my room mate had also found an excuse
Tinkle in your smile was all I heard
were there also giggles outside?

I later found a mauve carnation on the bed.
It smelled the same as
the scent on the bottom of your neck






You held my hand through that lecture
The professor decided to not notice
Sitting in the back row, you wrote me a note
to meet you in our special corner
we went separately to those stairs
where we talked about so many things

You told me about the crimson flower.

Those classes bunked, lies to parents

secret routes for afternoon with you

Giving naughty names to hidden moles

no profanity of name or promise

life felt pure, as it should be.

Time blossomed with pink carnations

Leaving your city, it was my final day
You woke me up before the cuckoo's call
We didn't waste a second that day
but the dreaded night did fall.

Standing near your door, to see you off
Couldn't muster courage to say good bye
Just touched your face, and turned away
The world was hazy, to my eye
.
.
.

Between yellowed pages, I found a carnation today
Gone years have taken away its colors
But those must be signs of drew drops
'coz you once told me, "Flowers don't cry"

© Ankush Agarwal

12-Apr-2020

Day 10: Hay(na)ku

Education !
despise darkness?
light a candle.

Gym !
pull weights?
Books are better.

Love !
fairy tales
Not for me.

God !
is Dead.
Or is She?

Heaven !
The moment
I met you

Assumptions !
you do,
like me too.

Luck !
Bad luck,
All I have.

We're !
Drifting apart...
slowly and slowly.

Life !
Without you...
Never the same.

Day 9: Concrete Poetry

A Gem

I

I  am !

Who am I ?

Am I just body ?

or senses assembled ,

like. feelings within leather.

Or  I am someone else altogether.

I might have flaws, or I'm just perfection

But when I look at you, I see own reflection..

¿uoᴉʇɔǝlɟǝɹ ʎɯ ǝǝs I op ʎɥʍ 'noʎ ʇɐ ʞool I uǝɥM

uoᴉxǝldɯoɔ ɹou 'sʞool ʎɯ ǝʌɐɥ ʇ,uop no⅄

ɹǝʌǝɹoɟ ǝʞᴉl slǝǝɟ ʇnq ʍouʞ ʇ,uop I

ɹǝɥʇǝƃoʇ ǝɹǝɥ ǝɹɐ ǝʍ ʍoɥǝɯos

pǝlqɯǝsǝɹ   ,sʎɐʍlɐ I
ǝǝɥʇ  pǝʇɔǝlɟǝɹ ⅋
ɯɐ  - I zoɔ,
ǝʞᴉlɯǝפ
∩

Day 8: Line from another poem

Stopping by woods...

The woods were lovely, dark and deep
like series of dreams in a deep sleep

Memories have grown on these woods
His only friends since childhood

Birds played peek-a-boo, when he'd cry
his mother working somewhere nearby

There're marks still, where he roped his swings
flying high in sky on feathers of strings

He often hid behind that reticent oak
for a secret kiss or a rebellious smoke

Those trees whispered only to him
Whenever he listened happily or grim

But after ages now, he's here alone
doesn't believe in whispers, he's a man grown

Doesn't swing on trees, 'coz he's a man grown
Metal clinks sound sweeter, than a beetle's drone

Doesn't remember his friends, he once so admired
Leaves still rustle for him, but its paper he desired

The woods were lovely, dark and deep
but he's got his own, promises to keep

He was sure, the trees will understand
they'll pretend not noticing, the axe in his hand.

© Ankush Agarwal

10-Apr-2020

Day 7: The news

The other day, I was reading the paper
My eyes caught this piece of news
Olympics shall now, be held later
This got me utterly confused

What the new motto shall now be?
It can't be just "Citius Altius Fortius"
So, let's put a fresh plea
To call it simply: "Posterius"

Addendum:
These are crappiest lines ever written
It just can't get more rougher
So, behold my dear men and women
Why should I, be the only one to suffer.

Addendum to Addendum:
The poem's so lousy
I'm leaving it unsigned
And if it's making you drowsy
You can pay me in kind

Day 6: Picture

Day 6 challenge was way beyond my league. Hence, I am posting my first English poem instead. At least, it has the word - "picture" in it.

When the night is dark enough...

The path may be dreary
Your goal not near by
But the target should be clear
And don’t let your dreams die.

Strive for what you want to achieve
Don’t fear from the slope
You can conquer the mountains
Just start with a hope.

Win over your misfortunes
No-matter-what comes your way
Keep making the picture,
Your eyes will see it real some day.

Relish even the gloomy moments
Smiles can conceal the tear
And when the night is dark enough,
Remember –
“THE DAWN IS NEAR !!”

Ankush Agarwal
Copyright ©2006 

Day5: Twenty little poetry projects

Okay, so Day 5 challenge looks to be most difficult and most fun. While you can read the details on the NaPoWriMo blogs, here is quick summary of what I need to do:

1. Begin the poem with a metaphor.
2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.
19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.

So, let me see, if I can meet the challenge:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: For ease of reading and avoid clutter of quotation marks:
Blue text is spoken by the humming bird
Green text is spoken by Lily, the lily flower
and Black is by Yours Truly.

A Humming Bird and a Lily

1. Silence is golden, but talk is cheap

2. The humming bird was telling this to lily

3.a. Your fragrance is in a beauty sleep

3.b. See, your skin is now glowing really

3.c.  Shivering with pleasure, for her lover's first touch

3.d.  Sweetness of that maiden kiss
3.e.  Your leaves will jingle just so much
4.     Music will be, a touch of bliss

5. Am I, asked Lily, "in the Garden of Eden?

6.  I am not your  newly bride                          

7. & 8.  you gotta gimme, a good reason        
I would like this clarified:                        
    
    

 9. My petals blush, whenever you dance  
10. How you doin' ?, tell me your moves   
11. The melodic strings of romance            
12. strumming the ripened tunes of youth

  

      Knowing now, that the moment was right

13. Humming bird just got down on a knee

14. Anks and all were so happy at this sight

The heavens proclaimed this decree:

15. "The Earth shall shower blessings,

16. 'n' there shall be an awesome blossom

17. Bridesmaids to wear fancy dressings

18. crooning in the breeze: "Ye raatein, ye mausam..."

19. The bird kissed lily on her petal

20. and rhythm of jingles were heard around

I saw the flower shiver so gentle

when she saw, the sun go down.

© Ankush Agarwal

05-Apr-2020

Day 4: Dreams

How do I write about the dream?

I'm sure, I had many.

'coz that's the world I see,

when I close the eyes,

my unknown fantasy.

Do I see another reality,

or a realm mundane?

it's a world with anything possible,

and void of any pain.

I've been to places

with unparalleled scenery

Those glorious white peaks

dancing with greenery

I've laughed many laughs

killing time with utmost glee

so close to my loved ones

whom I don't meet in reality

I've won many a battles

and achieved the impossible

Done those things with ease

which in life are impractical

The world there, is a happy place

such dreams have been many

then why is it so, that

I don't remember any?

Then there were dreams

Too embarrassing to share

these are the ones recurring

but I'd keep them a private affair

All the nightmares since childhood

I somehow distinctly remember

and they still manage to scare me

and I can't help, but surrender

The happy ones make my body glow

even the weird ones are fair

I just wish the nightmares

never do re-occur.

© Ankush Agarwal

05 Apr 2020

Day3: Random Rhymes

Day3 challenge was quite different in nature. I generated 10 random words using an online random word generator and then selected 4 rhyming/related words for each of them from Rhymezone -- giving me a word bank of 50 words. 

As my 9 year old son is also participating in the challenge, we decided to have more fun and attempt a different sort of poem using the same word bank. Here is what he wrote. And below is my attempt (Italicized words are from the word bank):

For Jim always is

a happy brown clown, 

Living in a tilting building 

in downtown

He loves to put, bright

 makeup on his face

always dresses in polka dots

and an orange colored lace

He goes by the name

 of A Delirious Idiot, 

The crowd finds it funny

and his acts are hilarious

Tales of his deeds, are

always sought after

My friends always tell me, 

with roaring laughter

My kids also love him

more than fairies

As he carries not books,

but berries in libraries

One day, when I met him

I asked him a question,

"Can I please give you

a genuine suggestion?"

He told me, "I'm willing to,

give you my attention

As long as you promise to

not give me any tension."

I told Jim, that, I'm not so sure

With so many problems around, with no known cure

a silly laugh, in these times, is not an allure

and that he needs to act, like a man matured.

He told me:

 "Watson, this is elementary,

So, don't be pedantic.

Treat life as a poetry

and die a romantic"

"Look at me dear,

I've got a hole in my heart

and before my breaths are over

I want to play my part."

"I am left with, only a year or two

To solve world's problems, I got no clue."

I noticed, he wanted to do something, 

before his chances blew

So, that's why he's in a rush, 

he knew time flew.

He couldn't laugh himself, 

so he made the country smile,

Hiding his sorrows behind the mask

The eye-shadow was his guile.

The bright makeup on his face 

hid his pain very well

The lace covered his sufferings,

so no one could tell.

The polka dots he used to

camouflage something more

He wanted his audience to laugh

and not cringe on sight so gore.

His makeup wasn't funny, but hideous

He really was a delirious idiot.

But I made him a secret promise

and I will never let him down...

for Jim always was

a happy brown clown.

© Ankush Agarwal

04 Apr 2020

Day 2: That place

That terrace,

from my house, was visible.

It was only a stone's throw away;

witnesses are those miserable pebbles,

whom I had launched with full strength and vigor

those were not stones, but jewels

vaguely remembered, like first crush in schools

Some of those gems are still in flight,

above that terrace, where we played day and night.

That terrace which has a rusty door

is now a portal to times before

Will there be Holi colors still on that wood?

Or that chalk dust from childhood?

Our Antakshari songs still echoing

in those walls, now decaying

Is someone still waiting

 in that narrow staircase?

with ink scribbled on paper, 

but message written on her face

That discarded ring, would yet be hidden

in that out-of-bound corner, still forbidden

I can't reach that terrace now,

some strangers now go and lock it.

 But it doesn't appear far to me, when

I find some pebbles in my pocket.

© Ankush Agarwal

02-Apr-2020