Goan Sonnet

By what fate are we intertwined together?
Roaming the streets in search of espresso,
Taking refuge in a bookstore during foul weather,
Frozen in time, under the beach palm’s shadow.

The cool arabian breeze in evening,
The ghazal singer and the cold feni,
Walking on the soft sand and the shell collecting
and the soft fragrance of naag frangipani.

Day tripping to world heritage basilica,
Evenings watching hindi romances,
Vendors scamming us in buying fake pashmina,
and waltzing the night, in warm embrace and deep glances.

“Eu te amo porque não sei outra maneira”
Kismet has weaved us together on this terra firma.

Note: Day 24 of NaPoWriMo.  Off-prompt today to continue experimenting with the Shakespearean sonnet. This one is for my Muse on her birthday.  The Portuguese line is because Goa was a Portuguese colony and we vacationed there.  The line is from Pablo Neruda, which I used google to translate from English ( “I love you because I know no other way”).

Nature Sonnet

Who speaks in iambs cadence anymore?
For when, in-person do us humans meet?
Feathers – a heat shield made avians soar
Nature gave toolers, vox boxes that greet;

Or our new tools be boon or do us in –
Will nature select happy accidents,
Or wash away collective memories?
In crowds are we just alien bedouins?

for when do we generate empathy
If never touched by another being
If we scatter and go separately
Who will go exploring, seeking, dreaming?

Can we prove nature did not misselect?
She truly chose wisely – we are her elect.

Notes: Day 23 of NaPoWriMo 2016.  Prompt was to write a sonnet.  More than the form, “sonnets usually pose a question of a sort, explore the ideas raised by the question, and then come to a conclusion.”  Continuing the Earth day theme from yesterday, this is about nature, evolution, humans, social media.  I kept the lines to (I think) roughly 10 syllables, don’t know if I got the iambic pentameter part right, though.  I followed Shakespearean abab-cdcd-efef-gg rhyme pattern, considering today is his 400 death anniversary.  Sonnets are rough, that’s all I got to say.