In Review

Day 27 NaPoWriMo 2020

(Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash)

In Review

The twinkle in those eyes drive me insane, I conclude in review
Between dream and wakefulness, in my bed, I’m glued in review.

A historic question: can forty-three be topped in ineptitude and malice?
Along comes forty-five, surpassing with his turpitude. In review.

Uncertainty is usually beyond control, it’s about unknown unknowns.
Beware of those who do nothing but speak in certitude, in review.

A virus going pandemic may seem like an isolated event, but
plantery interconnectedness makes it a prelude in review.

What could be done differently, what could be said differently,
in silence I do the math, in my head I brood in review.

The flame ignited, burns bright, even as a gust of wind makes it
flicker from time to time. Is this one of those moods in review?

Those who serve on the front line, whether they think it is their jobs,
their duty, their choice, deserve a great deal of gratitude in review.

Your promises are a ‘Mirage’ that play with my emotions
This time is different, I thought, yet you elude in review.

Notes: Day 27 of NaPoWriMo 2020. The prompt for today is:

“…challenge you to write a poem in the form of a review. But not a review of a book or a movie of a restaurant. Instead, I challenge you to write a poetic review of something that isn’t normally reviewed. For example, your mother-in-law, the moon, or the year 2020 (I think many of us have some thoughts on that one!)”

Not entirely on-prompt, as I did not pick a single subject, which usually hard to do when writing a ghazal.  But I did incorporate review as a refrain (radif) weaving into a ghazal and ruminating about many things.  Wrote this in bits and pieces, and unfortunately, without much of a review. So hopefully it is coherent!

At Last

Day 8 Of NaPoWriMo 2018. 

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At the diner, on the jukebox, Etta James belts out ‘at last’
Let’s enjoy the burgers and fries and end our silly little bout, at last.

O fair apsara – Urvashi, I am Pururavas, the warrior, your rescuer
State your demands and I’ll agree and let our love sprout, at last.

The masters of the universe, the big boys of free market, the banksters
are made whole, only because of big government bailout, at last.

I remember, that the picnic in the meadow full of swinging wildflowers,
And where stole a kiss, despite your hesitation and doubt, at last.

My professed sentiments you must believe, they are real and not a ‘Mirage’,
Now let’s see that radiant smile breakout, through that sulky pout, at last.

Notes:
Off prompt again today, except from one mythological reference in couplet two, which references the mythology of Urvashi, an apsara (or a nymph) in Indra’s court and Puraravas, a mortal.

But, here is the prompt for today:

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 (at least when you’ve been reading Shelley!) If you’re in search of inspiration, maybe you’ll find it in this poem by Louis Untermeyer, or this one by Kathleen Graber.