For The Poet By Day ~ Wednesday Writing Prompt ~ MAY 23, 2018 ~ JAMIE DEDES ~ It Comes From The Unseen Source ~

Tell us how you receive and experience your own poetry as an unexpected visitor, a surprise perspective or observation, a gift, or as a mystical thing … perhaps even as an occasional inconvenience.


Words and thoughts  felt in transparency, unknown, unseen,
senses benumbed, as vision scans nature’s  changing vapors
against a canvas, bordered by shivering trembling green leaves
of stretching, bound, firmly rooted growth, shaping into one
strong trunk…strange is the form yet studded with beauty …

as feather like as water drops, soft, in feeling, a medium,
which passes through, touching the body soul and spirit
breaking the trance to discover, an idea ‘arranging deepening’
in the mind, revealing a song’ or a story’ or poetic drama’
so ‘poetry should be naturally expressed’ though along the way-

‘there are places that beckon us to stop or warn that these lines
are true,these thoughts good, let the words flow’, in early drafts
don’t try to control the poem’, feel free to alter the facts’,yes,it is
easy then, but it is work, hard work, the idea comes from the unseen
it is then from ‘me ‘ to something real outside ‘ in order, to craft’

sometimes it is Light’ spreading gold in the sky on hills and land
cutting darkness to glory divine’ when green goes dark looks grand
mind stirs wonders eyes gather images and thoughts seek words
to amalgamate colors, beauty serene, majestic mystical  hills of sand
who made them? how much more beauty must be in His Domain !

2014-03-06 17.23.11
a poem can be, just be, it comes in moments, in time, at night
sometimes nothing descends for days, nothing inspires, a lone
still, lifeless object, may strike the soul, yet it all is formed only
when the mind in its richness of  language receives the ‘order’
‘a divine gift ‘it is as poets have revealed in the past across ‘border’

Mirza Ghalib wrote’

Aate HaiN Ghaib Se Yeh MazameeN Khayal MeiN
Ghalib Sarir-e Khamah Nava-e Sarosh Hai

 When mysteriously topics or subjects come in ones thoughts,
Then the sound made by the pen, resonates like the voice or sound of angles.

and so it is for me…


For ~ The Poet by Day ~ G Jamie Dedes ~ Wednesday Writing Prompt May 9 ~ Tiptoes of Spring ~

What is your favorite time of year? Why? Perhaps it’s not the weather that makes it your fave but traditions: holidays, birthdays, vacation … Tell us in a poem.

I have found flowers
I have found flowers,
And the cool winds feel softer
Dry leaves are lifted
Waves are visible in the grass
And I know
That Nature with her sensitive ear
Hears the tender touches of, the velvet
tiptoes of Spring-

Evergreens sway to welcome, in
Murmuring whispers of youthful sprouts
Rippling away invisible woes , and I find
More flowers as loneliness fades away-

Comfort engulfs the soul and spirit as
The mind drifts away to memories
When families were together to stay-

All seasons were loved December or May
And now I find flowers but not the family
All seasons seem the same ,as joyful memory
In summer heat cool raindrops or autumnal
Falls, touches my soul, inspires the spirit-

To create fresh flowers of poetry.

NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 13 ~ Busy Doing Nothing ~

Today, we challenge you to write a poem in which the words or meaning of a familiar phrase get up-ended.


Phrase  :   As busy as a bee’     Image result for busy as a bee

they all say the bee is busy
so it seems ‘ apparently,for all
the buzzing  sound it makes
vibrates the air,things it shakes

fear it creates in everything
as from nowhere it suddenly
in view,springs, hovering all
around refusing to go,humbly

Image result for busy as a bee   at night if it comes it sticks
close to the bulb,that will not
give honey dear its glass n hot’
no need to show working tricks

Oh ‘ I will say you are busy
for body still is laziness and
busy is a moving flying thing
better believe the buzz n sting’

bees are busy buzzing buzzing
                                                       humans sitting buzzing buzzing
                                                       bees humming make sweet honey
                                                       are humans busy? doing nothing?



NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 19 ~ Remember The Adventures ?

Today we challenge you to write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even gives directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem.


river bank

Paragraph Prompt 
Remember the famous adventures where sitting by the river bank with her older sister, finding her sister’s book has no pictures or conversation and thus holds no interest for her,suddenly a white rabbit…oh no there are white birds, some flying some perched on the bending trees by the bank…from time to time the birds cause ripples in the lazily flowing river, patches of green look like green square pastries bordered with brown cream and icing.


Remember the adventures
by the river bank,when the
book we were trying to read
fell in the water and sank.

I wonder what interest my 
sister had,with no pictures
or dialogues the book was
dull boring and so blank…

restless were the birds white
they would rather enjoy the 
flight, low over the water or
high by the tree, in  sunlight

I too slipped behind the white
screen in a dream I was a pencil
writing a poem and eating cake
with green sponge icing and cream

I in a world of words and rhymes
could hear the poetic rhythms and
chimes, thirty in all I have to make
would I be able to with tea n cake?



NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 17 ~ Curiosity Lesson Broke A Dozen ~

Our prompt for the day (optional as always) follows Gowrishankar’s suggestion that we write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time.

Image result for chicken clipart

The phone rang. It was my younger one
How was the day dear daughter?
‘full of eggs and a bit of a disaster’
Oh dear hope all is well and everyone ?

Oh Ammi it was an egg day to day’
I fell asleep after lunch…’egg day?
Yes I was so exhausted I dozed off.
for long I was in the land of dreams.

When I woke up the girls were resting
but the boys, on their bicycles, outside…
well? I was getting a bit anxious now…
I went to call them I almost fell over.

Oh Dear God’what spirit flew before…
‘I slipped on something and taking a
closer look found lots of broken eggs
just outside the kitchen door’

Rayyan 7 and Abdullah 3 experimented a
lesson of science,research and curiosity
led them to seek and find, who came
first the egg or the rooster, or chicken dame.

‘Mama there were no chicks in any of the eggs’
our science teacher said there would be, we
checked all the twelve,in the fridge lying
where else we could check, we both were trying.

scientific learning is based on practicals
Its good to be curious but dangerous also,
a Teacher must be professionally trained.
Mama had a lot to clean and much to explain.

NAPOWRIMO 2018~Day 9 ~ When I killed a Bee …

We challenge you today to write a poem in which something big and something small come together. Happy writing!

Image result for buzzing bee

Nothing is either big or small but by comparison
so wrote Jonathan Swift, about dwarfs ‘n giants

ants met the grasshopper the lion met the mouse
Swift became a giant only when he left his house

I was feeling quite alright till I heard n saw the bee
I felt afraid n so small, she looked bigger than me

she buzzed so loud and buzzed around the bulb
I stared and stared n prayed n took a fearful gulp’

O Allahji  please hear n help, You know I am all alone
What if she dived, bit and stung me deep in the bone ?

Allah Most Gracious Most Merciful as Always, Hears’
sincerely  pray, ten times He Helps n removes all fears

my gaze fixed my soul in prayer upright I sat upon the bed
seconds later the bee fell ‘zzzzzzz’thup’,on the floor, dead.

I sat and thought about my fears and strengths,
as the night slowly drifted away to its dark ends.







Image Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 8 ~ Ode To The Haunting Image’ ~

Let’s take a leaf from Shelley’s book, and write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Your poem could take the form of a spell, for example, or simply describe an event that can’t be understood literally. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange. Poetry is like that ….



O’ Thou Mystic Celestial Skull, suspended in the vast boundless mysterious canvas, white and blue –
Death seems to follow thee with fears haunting
Or pallor grips you for painful loss of lover true-

what treasures awoke thy spirit up high,what coffins
broke to release thy head, the body buried in Earthly
pyramid  tombs, never engaged in secret battles nor
‘ever caused a rattle, nor rain skeletal scorpions,

Suspended in the boundless unknown dome
filled or empty or left open as  the deserted path
I wait and wonder, what engages your sockets?
invisible to me you see what voices you hear?

Tell Me is war visible ? clouds of murky dust rising,
children bleeding crying running, bodyless like you
silently succumbing to shot and shrapnel, carried –
what trophies may win the killer’s bullets surprising.

the ground looks green and trees appear tall
and rivers flow flooded and fields full harvests
grow mountains rise strong tops shine with snow
people are happy and not lying as homeless pests?

No but you will not say for I know what’s there
here and everywhere, that is what robbed you
of health and heart and body too, and now your
spirit roams soulless aimless helpless with despair

and I a mourning  poet with words n verses weak,
peace love courage forbearance patience seek
may fiery dragons come flying in, unicorns rush to
waste wilderness clear, with weeping flowers sweep.