Rants, Art and Literature

  Prompt: 16) Blood My blood and I are so alike, That I should have a bloody name; But to the common, this absurdity, Needs to be explained. In my body my blood boils, Flows and runs through my veins: Just the way bubbling thoughts, Pop in and out off my brain. If I'm too happy ever, You'll see my cheeks and ears: Redden at the incoming wave Of rosy and gay front row viewers. But if my finger's pricked, The raging blood oozes out, And in the harsh world outside: It clots and freezes in a drop. In a parallel path I see, What struggles out through my teeth: The dried up carcass of some words— My ideas strangled at birth! Author’s thoughts ‘My Blood and I’ is a poem about the similarities I find between myself and blood. It’s an attempt to step away from overused metaphors and subverting expectations about a poem about the prompt “blood” while experimenting with a style of poetry I haven’t consciously tried before. I have a gig on Fiverr where I’ll write a poem for you on any

  Prompt: 14) Distress The pain and distress you feel, When tumbling down from the hill, Is far greater than when you climbed it. When you climb you have a goal in mind, And then if you stop to look behind: You will be happy at how far you've come. Then the pain in your feet, And the distress of the heat, Will feel like challenges you're going to overcome. But when you've reached the peak, The scent of victory you'll lick: But you forget that there's no way but down. Then you'll trip on an abandoned shoe, And come tumbling down, as if you never flew, You'll scream, terrified. Your hands would try to grab on to: Rocks, branches and anything would do: But they'd all slip because of the sweat on your palms. You'll get caught in thorns and bushes, Try to exert futile pushes, To steady yourself, but alas. Now you've fallen, hurt and pained, And just look at what you've gained: Scratches, bruises and hairline fractures. Author’s thoughts “The Distr

  Prompt: 13) Grass On a mild winter morning, I stepped outside, "Marvellous," I cried in delight! Green and green stretched from eye to eye, Even the maroon roses were made shy: At the soft feathery sight of the grass, Waving their arms in a morning rush. Their crowns were bejeweled with little dewdrops, Danced like royals, these peasant crops. I kicked off my boots in a frenzied passion, Hiked up my frock in most unladylike fashion, And ran to sink into the prickly green: The carpet of the Nature Queen! Author’s thoughts I do not particularly like nature poetry, but it has been something that I have always wanted to try. With “Grass”, I tried to bring out the beauty of the grass on a mild winter morning of India. I have a gig on Fiverr where I’ll write a poem for you on any topic you want. You can find that gig  here  if you are interested in availing my service. This prompt is given by Souradeep Das.