Hello Readers,
April arrived in the middle of home renovations and work-related travel. I was quite sure of not reaching my favourite space (i.e. the blogging world) at all this month but when the Day 1 prompt of #NaPoWriMo23 prodded to me to go-on-give-it-a-go, I accepted his annual ritual gleefully.
But Day 2 stumped me. I didn't write a word. I could have but I chose to finish the day with a glass of red instead; watching home renovation programmes on a loop with my daughter. We loved it.
Here we are on Day 3. Birmingham sun is falling in big, warm squares on the wooden floor of my daughter's flat. I'll be making my way back home in a couple of hours. There's a train ride followed by a flight on the day's horizon. But for now there is e.e. cummings.
Two days ago, while browsing in the Oxfam book shop, I chanced upon a book of 'selected poems' by e.e. cummings. This poem (untitled, of course) fits in perfectly with the Day 3 prompt which encourages the poet 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... (It’s sort of like taking a radio apart and putting it back together, but for poetry)."
Winter is like a sure foot
(which comes carelessly
out of Somewhere) scattering
a window, out of which people look (while
people stare
disarranging and unchanging placing
carelessly there a known
thing and a strange thing here) and
unchanging nothing carelessly
winter is unlike a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carelessly to
and fro keeping Old and
New things, while
people stare with little care
holding on to a perhaps
fraction of flower there placing
a pillar of earth there) and
without healing anything.
The original poem by e.e. cummings:
Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere) arranging
a window, into which people look (while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here) and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things, while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there) and
without breaking anything.
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Thank you for visiting my blog on Day 1 and for leaving your wonderful comments. I'll be visiting your spaces as soon as I'm back home -- I promise:)
Yes! Yes did it! Your poem rings with the hope of spring.
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteAced it! YAM xx
Cheers Yamini. Your appreciation means a lot. A lot:)
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ReplyDeleteLovely work! I am happy you are writing again and you picked up e.e.cummings:) Love
ReplyDeleteYou may not believe this but when I spotted this tiny book in the shop, I thought of you:)
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