Day 30: May Morning

The last day! I can’t believe the month flew by so quickly – it truly feels as if I was just starting on the seemingly daunting task of writing and posting a poem everyday. The prompts given were all different, many of them pushing me away from my comfort zone in poetry. I hope I can maintain writing and posting at least on a weekly basis, if not more after today.

The prompt for day 30 was to “find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite”. The poem that I chose – “November Night” by Adelaide Crapsey is a beautiful poem with wonderful imagery, and is coincidentally a cinquain (day 5, anyone?). In fact, Crapsey was the one who created the modern form of the cinquain which is known as the American cinquain.

November Night

With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall.

By: Adelaide Crapsey

My attempt at ‘rewriting it’– I wasn’t able to write the second line iambic feet as Crapsey did though the other four should be fine.

May Morning

In near silence,
like breaths of sleeping bees,
the flow’rs, warm red, burst from the ground
and bloom.


Day 29: Caged Birds

Photo Cred: Ciara D'Anella

Photo Cred: Ciara D’Anella

Almost done! The prompt for day 29 was to write a poem that had at least 5 words from another language(s). The two languages I decided to use were Hindi, which I can speak somewhat decently, and Bengali, which, while I can understand a few words here and there, I cannot speak. For this reason, the Bengali words (the first three) are spelt the way it was given on Google Translate, where as the Hindi words are spelt the way they are normally seen (and said). I found this a bit difficult to write mostly because I wanted to keep the flow while switching languages, though I’m not sure whether I really succeeded or not. As opposed to defining each word separately, I simply put a “translated” version of the poem underneath. Like in any language, words can have several different meanings and connotations but do let me know if you think I used any of the words incorrectly.

Caged Birds

Along the patha outside
the jonaki and the prajapati
flutter, flitting
from branch to branch,
illuminating the akash
with roshni and rang– free.

Inside the cage
the parindey that know
not how to fly,
can never know
even if udaasi
is just as much an
ajanabi as


Along the path outside
the firelies and the butterflies
flutter, flitting
from branch to branch,
illuminating the sky
with light and colour– free.

Inside the cage
the birds that know
not how to fly,
can never know
even if sadness
is just as much an
stranger as

Day 8: Optimism

A little late but finished nonetheless, the prompt for day 8 was to write an ottava rima which is an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter, with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c.


Amidst the winding road, encased in mud,
there lies a broken branch along the side.
When all the clouds above let loose a flood,
no hint of happiness is there, nor pride.
Though seasons part and trees begin to spud,
it sits, the pain unwilling to subside.
But still the moss grows o’er the rotting bark,
she’s found her home and comfort in the dark.