When
When
When numb
When numbers
When numbers become
When numbers become names.
When
When nam
When names
When names become
When names become voices.
When
When voi
When voices
When voices become
When voices become silence.
Ô India everyday
Too many of your voices
Are silenced today
In the smoky pyres.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL prompt 30,
Napowrimo 2021
Triple Acrostic weaving using Lucette - Uiba Magang
Love Ultimate Catch Even Though The EphemeraL
Undoing of the ego merges with yoU
Can work wonders for the schizophreniC
Ethereal soul dispersing itself interchangeablE
Towards the end of the nexT
Tetrahedral fusion due to the rockeT
Elevation in the infinite universE.
Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved
I don’t mind you going away
But coffee without you
Isn’t the same
I miss the teasing question
Would you like a coffee?
As if you didn’t know the answer
The crema is still there
But the feel of it on the tongue
Is dull as can be
The pleasure of the first sip
Becomes flat and tasteless
The cup is the same
The coffee is the same
So you have to be the missing ingredient!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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TSL #Prompt 29 : Convocations
Convocations in five parts divided into ‘Meditations’, ‘Lamentations’, ‘Revelations’, ‘Celebrations’ and ‘Incantations’ based on Sufjan Stevens latest album. Write one or 5 poems using the 5 words in it.
Prompt by : Dr. Ampat Koshy
Some people aren’t romantic
As for me I’m not spiritually inclined
My meditation practice
Consists in counting to fifty
Without being disturbed
By the widely chatting monkeys
Inhabitants of my mind
No luck so far.
Lamentations are in a constant
State of Flux within my mind
More on the lack of possessions
Than the on the lack of grace.
You can imagine the poor revelations
Following this absence of expectations
They are quasi inexistent to date.
Celebrations are kept simple
To breathe each day is enough
More a question of gratitude
Incantations if any
Are that it continues.
But as I said before
I’m not spiritually minded
Hoping I never receive a convocation
That would be awkward
To say the least.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 26
Napowrimo 2021
A letter to my future self
I really don’t know
About this fascination
To one’s future self
I content myself
To live In the present and now
Well here you are ,You made it so far
You should be lucky to have a future
I’m afraid this won’t be a joyful one
Don’t forget your grandmother dementia
Don’t forget your father dementia
If you know how to join the dots
I hope you’ve prepared yourself
Nursing home your future is
Move with all your books and music
Make sure they accept pets
And there is a large garden
Full of flowers and benches
For your world thus will be reduced
To wait for your final breath.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 24, erasure poem from Half-hanged Mary (Margaret Atwood) -Gauri Dixit
Napowrimo 2021
Rumour
I was blue-eyes
Sun-burned skin
And Breasts
Time I go
Salute the moon
Men excited
Their faces, mouths I see
In a gathering like the dance
I’m up here with the legwork
Twisting body.
Licking his lips
Trust me, he says
Temptation .
Out of my mouth
I want this, I want that
My heart stutters
My body red-hot revelation
I testify to silence
Harvest my body
I fell to the clover
Imagine how that went over.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 23, Napowrimo 2021
Write a poem using you favourite tag line
Nidi Popli
Oh dear, our PM is suffering
From one SNAFU to another
He keeps saying
Not my job, mate
As soon as he is queried
His mantra comes to the fore
It’s not my job, he repeats
I don’t hold the jab
When vaccination rates are not on target
When fires ravaged Australia
I don’t hold the hose
It’s not my job
And off he went to Hawaï
For a deserved family holiday
When a journalist queries
His latest announcement
He replies
Not my job to tell you
How to write stories
When rogue ministers
Battle rape allegations and sexual harassment
Well, that’s a matter for the police
See, I’m not the Commissioner of Police
He loftily replies
Not my job to be
A policeman in people’s private affairs
When universities are struggling
He comes up with
If people expect me to a culture warrior
In this job, that’s not my job
We’ve heard him tell us
It’s not my job to be an ethical theologian
He’s got problems to sell us his message
It’s not my job to go and tell Australians
What they should be doing
It’s not my job to get offended
And I don’t contemplate it
Because that’s not my job
It is not my job to make
A commentary on an election
He is suffering so much
Our job is to help him
Making sure he’s back
To his old marketing job!
Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved
#TSL Prompt 22
Napowrimo 2021 Open your lips and sing. Deepika KC Chand
In our darkest periods
We open our lips and sing
Nowadays it’s time again
To open our lips and sing.
Doesn’t matter if you sing
About a hat you just bought
Or a cow you brought home
The topic really is yours
To own and sing about.
It can be personal
You might sing about your lover
Which is so much better
Than to scream at them,
Open your lips and sing.
You might sing on your way home
Just open your lips and sing.
You might sing on your way to work
For me, I open my lips and sing
To the trees of the forest.
A captive audience makes me happy.
We’ve lost the art of singing
A humble ritual replaced
By screaming and stomping
Time to reinstate it .
So open wide your lips and sing.
Don’t forget if you can share
To open your lips and sing together.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL Napowrimo 2021
Day 21- prompt by Koshy AV / Reena Prasad... Ars Poetica, the Art of Poetry
Poetry is everywhere
What is it?
Is it relevant to modern life?
One may wonder
Why do so many spend
Hours, days, torturing themselves,
Sweating, drinking to oblivion
To put a few words, lines
In rhythm, rhymes down and meter
On some paper, parchment or stone
The medium is of no import here
To express their state of mind
Their human misery
Their sadness of being unloved
Their mal de vivre
Some are happy
To tell epic stories
While others their love
From short flutter to eternal woes
Singing Nature’s hymns
Or God’s blessings
Raising their voices to pray harder
From epics drama was born
One location, one time, one action
One rule for them all
Except Shakespeare of course
But catharsis is at a premium
With kings, queens and knights
Comedy isn’t mentioned
It only concerns lowly classes
The plebs in one words.
There you find the limits of Ars Poetica
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 20 Napowrimo 2021
Minison -Ampat Koshy, Reena prasad
Do you ever sleep?
Whatever time is
On Facebook your
Status is active
I am sure to find a
Post or poem from
Your lusty minds
Never seem to sit
I believe you are
But a bot writing
Creating poetry
On demand by oafs
Always vigilant
Aboard platform.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 19 Napowrimo 2021
Shadorma poem -Ampat Koshy
Broken heart
You’re broken hearted
You poor dear
You’re lost now
Ever was your soulmate
You haunt the streets
Look for her
She has lost her way
Forgotten
Where her safe
Heaven is, deep in your heart
Help her find her way.
Search for her
Daily on the beach
Bars at night
Where she sings,
She dances for a living
No one knows her ways.
You haunt her
She needs to be free
Fear you’ll loose
Her true love
Love shackles are too heavy
Give her her freedom.
Like a bird
She flies beyond reach
At the sight
Of a cloud
Some souls can only survive
In sunny weather.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL NAPOWRIMO 16
16/04/2021
The Three Exercises Poem
Prompt given by Pratyush Mishra
1. Current state of my mind- Helplessness and fear about the current pandemic situation.
2. Emotions I feel- Pensive, Fear and melancholy.
3. Objects I see around
4. My poem correlating three emotions and three objects noticed by me as per 2 and 3 above
—————————————————-
I
Waiting, waiting for the phone call
Without any hope
Dad, uncle and aunt all with Covid
II
Overwhelmed, it’s too much
Confused not knowing what to do
Helpless , nothing I can do
III
Teapot, mug, bookcase, dog barking in the night
IV
A dog is barking in the night
I am waiting by the phone
Expecting it to ring the toll
Who will it be?
My father? Vaccinated in the nursing home
But the eldest of the three
My uncle? Not vaccinated
In the hospital
My aunt? Asymptotic
By herself in the house
Going slowly mad
As time goes on
Even the steam from the teapot dies
Overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all,
Hopelessness of doing anything else
I sip my cold mug of tea
Twenty thousand league from it all
Confused i keep asking myself
What can I do? Helplessness fills me
I fear the sound of that call.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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April 14th TSL NAPOWRIMO Prompt - Preeti S Manaktala
The Day I met my Soul
The day I met my soul
She was on the kerbside
Begging for a lift
To somewhere better
Had only one thing in mind
Getting the hell out of here
She was grey with cold and hunger
She couldn’t heckle a living
Her feverish eyes glowing in her face
Were her most noticeable feature
Under her limp unkept tangled hair
Could barely hold her head
She stank to the heavens
The day I met my soul
Why did I stop?
She was everything I was not
A victim of an uncaring universe
Needy, left to rot away by the roadside
Unloved, uncared for, unkempt
Was she old, was she young?
What made me stop,
Listen to her litanies,
Take her onboard
The day when I met my soul?
She’s one with few words
“ I thought you’d never turn up”
That’s all she said
No whining, no whinging
She doesn’t distract me
She’s a quiet soul
She’s content to be
She’s happy nowadays
Has always been
Since the day I met my soul.
Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved
Edward Hooper , Western motel
I had to be there
The trip was long
He told me to wait for him.
Book a room,
And wait for him.
I could see the bonnet of the car
Through the window
Last link to civilisation
In that arid background
The air was crisp and clear
No dust from a moving car
The world was empty.
I had my bags ready in the room
Just ready to be picked up
And hit the road with him
The clock face was spinning
With each tic-toc
Where was he?
Would he come?
He said he would
I sat on the edge of the armchair
Waiting for a noise
Waiting for a sign
Just waiting for him
In the Western Motel
As he said .
Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved
Prompt from Nagambie writing group
The basket at the door
The door was shut
What was I to do?
I knocked on it a few times
In order to give her time
To come to the door
Silence echoed my knocks
What was I to do?
I looked around
The deserted verandah
Then I spotted it
The basket by the door
Empty ready to hold
Anything and everything
The sign of expectation
I was waiting for
I could drop the bountiful gifts
From my garden there
Along the weeks and months to come.
One always needs a basket at the door
To find a happy recipient
Without having to go
Through the social niceties.
I’ll will fill it and walk away.
Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved
Coming from the basement
The siren screamed
Ripping the silence of the night
Alert, everyone to the shelter
A night raid of course
They all scrambled to the basement
The planes flew by
Then the thudding noise
Of the exploding bombs
Declaring their impact
On the shunting station
The DCA rattling off in answer
Trying to shoot down the planes
Everyone was quiet in the basement
Huddling together under the blankets
They had seized in panic
They kept in the dark
Afraid a ray of light
Would tell the enemy .
She was suffocating she didn’t like
The feeling of the basement
She couldn’t breathe in that obscurity
She crept up the stairs ,
Slowly one by one, silently
She arrived on the landing
Slid the basement door quickly
She was outside, could breath again.
The night sky was above her
Cut into dashes of the dca canons
Tracing the enemy planes
The explosions raised fireworks
Across the night sky too
There was beauty in destruction
When she came from the basement.
My mother could never visit caves,
Pyramids and enclosed spaces
She always preferred to walk
Under the open sky
Be it night or war.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 13
13th April 2021-
Rainbow- Meenakshi Mohan
Colours of the rainbow
Red ...............Passion
With a few lines
I turn up everyday
Is it a poem?
Orange.........bittersweet
You may ask about
You’re the judges, aren’t you?
You write comments
Yellow..........lemony
Crisp, succinct
Since when briefness is a fault
To carry content?
Green...........acidic
Places are distant
They never part from my mind
Beloved are sick
Blue............sadness
Father and uncle
Are both under its shackles
Covid trapped them
Indigo.....wisdom
You do understand
Now the need for the shortness
I’d like deeper poems
Violet..... sweetness
Feelings hurt too much
Long Words are insufficient
I know your kindness
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#NaPoWrimo 2021 TSL
#Prompt 12 Lovingly I hate you - Shalini Samuel
Love, Hate,....
Hate, Love....
A coin with two sides
Turning on its rim
If Hate is Love denied,
Is Love accepted Hate ?
People are sure to decry this
They may like the following
Love is the sugar coating
Of the bitter pill of Hate
What is the illness that Hate cures ?
Would it be Love then?
Where stands the boundary
Between Love and Hatred?
Are “Lovingly I hate you”
And “my hate for you is love” symmetrical ?
Or is it a case of Love/Hate
Infinite duality?
You tell me.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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NaPoWriMo 2021 TSL
Day 11
#Prompt- Lives lost during lockdown by Rohini John
Roseate Sonnet Form (Ampat Koshy)
O, you’re a bit hot, sir, have a sore throat
Difficulties to breathe. I am sorry, sir
Can’t open the window, sir
We’re in lockdown.
It isn’t personal, I swear it
It’s unfortunate really
You turned to be positive sir
You’ve got to isolate, I can’t let you go out sir.
You’ve got money, a lot of it , good on you, Sir
They let you on the plane, welcome to quarantine!
Roll out vaccine is planned, sir
Organisation is the keyword here, sir
So sorry but vaccine hasn’t made it to our shores yet
End of story for you sir, my name ? Covid of course!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL prompt 9 Ripped jeans-Radhakrishnan Krishnan
Haiku
Fashionista jeans
Utter contempt for workers
Waste of money!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 10
Ekphrastic poem - Feby Joseph
#NaPoWriMo2021
An irate promeneur
Look at the plebs!
Can’t afford to take the train
To go on the coast
Or too much bother?
Taking it easy, don’t they?
Laying down on the grass
Sleeping, watching children
Playing in the water
The world passing by
Taking the fresh air and the sun
Having fun without any regards
To decency and modesty
For the folks on the boats
Or passers by
And bringing their dogs
On top of that
Lucky when they don’t jump
Or bite the innocent walker!
I can’t take my daily walk
Along the river bank
When they’re spread like that
I hate holidays and their crowds!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 8 Autism awareness day -Ampat Koshy
And here we are my kind friends
To promote “Autism awareness day”
For there’s work to do , for sure!
There’s such a spectrum of autism
From the non-verbal to the savant
All decried as being special
All wanting to just be.
Books, movies and plays
Are running off on their backs
But all having to live their life.
Life is full of obstacles for them
Where for others is a smooth path .
Courage is their shield
Against the daily fears
Levied against them
By prejudice and ignorance.
Courage to keep going
To fail again against
Cruelty and stupidity.
Each success bringing
An infinitesimal drop
Of happiness and confidence
Within their hearts,
Within their souls.
Autism isn’t a curse,
Autism isn’t a gift,
It does not concern them
To be accepted or not,
Being dropped from mainstream society
For not being able to conform,
They build themselves
From the inside out
Content to be.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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#TSL PROMPT 7 : Illusion - Sunita Singh
ILLUSION (an acrostic poem)
I, stands for ego, only an illusion
L, is for Light, made of waves, illusion
L, is for Love, often selfish, illusion
U, is for Universe, inclusive or not, an illusion
S, is for Soul, what better illusion is that one
I, is for Illusion itself
O, is for Obelus, discussion on an illusion
N, Nothing is talent but illusion.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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# TSL Photo prompt 5 napowrimo ( Reena Prasad)
Where is he?
I’m looking everywhere
I can’t see him
From the deep snows of Siberia
To the lush jungles of Africa
I try to trace his journey
On the map he gave me
Told me I could follow him
But always he’s not there.
I receive a cryptic card
Showing some landscape
Or famous monument
I come here sit on the top of the globe
To try to work it out
And when I pinpoint the place,
That is when I’m lucky,
I get my faithful loupe
And scan the map
I follow the roads,
I follow the rivers,
I cross the oceans and deserts
Still he isn’t there,
Again I have missed him.
The world is round
He told me so
So what comes out
Comes back in
I’ll wait here
For he’s sure to come home !
Lucette C. Bailliet
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