Tonight's Evening Sky - Description

Tonight's evening sky is not a unified shade of blue. It is multihued, with a myriad of periwinkle and pale grey, with some albescent strands weaving in and out. Fuzzy fronds float all around, like the finest eiderdown feathers. How they waft and wind and wrap the town, like the world's fluffiest duvet. That sky puffed out my evening blues like pasty, petty clouds. Next time I feel blue, and devoid of bliss, I will dream of this and surely beam. Sure my small reflection may not be a masterpiece. But for me, just remembering that sublime sky always raises my inner peace.

Fallen Leaves and Fresh New Starts

Autumn leaves waft in the wind.

As they float, my heart just sings.

They cleanse away my careworn mind,

and help me leave my past behind.

Crackling like scarlet stars,

leaping like life’s fresh new starts,

they relieve my long-held grief,

and help me turn a whole new leaf.

Why must I grieve for fallen leaves?

When snow will fall this Christmas Eve.

Snow shows me it is never late,

to change my ways and choose my fate.

Missing Parts Part 2: Strange Similies

I wish these bulbs that burn and blaze,

show me daffodils, and doubloons.

But I only trace the waning moon,

it wrecks me up and wanes me down.

 

When did my thoughts all trail away?

Why did the lights fade to darkness?

Oh, I cannot take more opaqueness.

Stars, guide me to those stellar signs!

 

Streetlights, flash me awesome words!

Please, save me from insanity!

But could some strange similes,

shatter down like sharp glass shards?

 

Towers glow on gravel roads.

Like blades, could they strike the skies?

What could these blades symbolise?

My greatest fails or finest traits?

 

Will I at last find those missing parts?

and move more hearts with whole new art?

Missing Parts Part 1: Mindless Metaphors

I meander on in this mundane plane.

The seatbelts screech without a tune,

and the foulest fumes fog up the room,

so, I wrench my head to this window.

I’d strive to dive in these inky depths,

swim in this sea of starlit streams,

but these windows snuff my lucid dreams,

and leave me breathless, begging for air.

My page stays white as wispy clouds.

My ink dried out and disappeared.

But could this nightly atmosphere,

promise me some mighty words?

No fine lines flow to my mind,

as cruise ships cross those black waters.

But could some mindless metaphors,

roar somewhere down that beaten track?

Could these red cars be bleeding hearts?

Where on earth are those missing parts?

Is this a true palm tree, or my mad mirage? written by Rithika Nadipalli (and edited by Ishita Nadipalli)

The day feels so dark and dreary.

My heart feels so wrecked and weary,

so, I head outdoors and breathe deeply.

 

Ripples of air shush down my sighs.

A palm tree soothes my swollen eyes.

It sure shadows the sunlit skies.

 

Gold streaks shine down the tree’s brown bark,

I can gaze for hours at these gorgeous sparks.

Oh, how they brighten up this boring tar!

 

This palm tree smells so sweet and swell.

Yum… Fresh coconuts and caramel.

Hmm… Some fruity scents I can’t yet tell.

 

One whiff of this summery perfume,

bursting with bananas and mango bloom,

whisks me to breezy beaches, far from my room.

There, I can simmer down on sandy shores,

I can sip that mocktail, one glass more,

and swim in seas, so cool and azure.

Those fronds flap so fast, oh my days,

like sprightly stars that burn and blaze.

I feel embraced by this tree's ways.

Oh eyes, please let me see a tree this large,

Please don’t let this be my mad mirage,

I hope I’m not gazing at my garage.

I'm so swayed by this scene sublime,

I pray for it to sway here all the time,

and banish my rancid garage of grime.

 

Please don’t desert me tree, I weep and wish.

Please make my vapid life vanish,

and whisk me to vast seas with a swish.

 

At once, this fickle tree disappears,

leaving me stranded and sweating here.

Oh well, at least now my mind is clear!

Hello everyone.

I hope you enjoyed my poem. This time, it is about a swaying palm tree I perceived one hot afternoon. I admired its gorgeous golden-brown bark, and flapping fronds. I basked in its sweet, ‘fruity scents’, which momentarily swept me away to ‘sandy shores’ and ‘azure seas’. I hoped this sublime tree would be true scene. Sadly, I learnt that it was my ‘mad mirage’ after all, as it disappeared, stranding me in my unpleasant ‘rancid garage of grime’.

 

Again, thank you Ishita for editing my poem, and making it sound more melodic, moving, and magical. As always, you are such a supportive sister, and I always enjoy sharing and editing my poems with you. 

Firstly, in line 11, Ishita suggested ‘yum’, which sounds more fun, and less redundant than my original ‘hmm’. Plus, ‘yum’ carries no connotations of displeasure or doubt, unlike more dubious ‘hmm’. I had no doubt that these smells were yummy, so I chose 'yum' over 'hmm'.

 

Secondly, in line 25 Ishita suggested ‘I’m so swayed by this scene sublime’ which is more melodic and modern than my original, outdated line 25 ‘I’m mad about this mortal prime’. Her pun shows I am so awed, I am literally swaying along with the hypnotic palm tree. Furthermore, her line feels more hopeful and heart-warming than my ‘mortal prime’, concluding that this tree is my life’s biggest bliss, and closes one’s hope for enjoying future milestones and magical moments.

 

Thirdly, Ishita suggested line 33, when I was struggling to conclude the poem. She suggested that despite my sweat, tears, and loss, at least my ‘mind is clearer’, because I taken a brief repose, and admired this transient, but peaceful and pretty palm tree. Now when I reach the poem’s last line, I do not ‘weep’ because the 'tree disappears', but I smile, because I enjoyed the scene and my mind became clearer. 

 

Thank you Ishita for making this whole poem more delightful, and less dreary. Your enthusiasm, and awesome ideas always enlighten me and brighten my days. You are such a talented writer Ishita, and I hope you get inspired to write your own poems soon. I for one would feel so excited to read them.