Why Jane the Virgin makes me feel sexy

Personal Blog

Sex – probably one of the most if not the most taboo topics of human history. Like many children of immigrant parents, however, sex was far from taboo for me –  it was literally never mentioned. If you want to see a desi family open up and talk, try sitting them in a room with a slightly sexy Bollywood scene and watch them all avert their gaze and start complaining about their days. It’s like a weird sort of magic spell. 

NaPoWriMo #22 – I feel like an adult when

NaPoWriMo 2019

Hello everyone! Before we get into the poem I’d like to say thank you very much to everyone who has read my poems recently. I’ve seen a spike in my numbers and I am very grateful knowing that people like what I write :). Feel free to say hi in the comments and we can chat! Now, on with the poem…



I feel like an adult when a new washing machine excites me

I feel like an adult when I butter my own toast

I feel like an adult when I somehow manage to get rid of a cold on my own

I feel like an adult when the question ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’ scares me instead of excites me

Ode to my broken piano

Poetry
On the days that I do not love you
my love looks nothing like love.
In fact, it looks much like
not quite
the opposite
but an
in between state:
A half-working key,
an almost soundless note
pressed against my finger-tips.

Drury Lane

Poetry

WRITING EXERCISE #83

Today, one of my toddler daughters had the end of a stick in her mouth. I said, “Stop eating that stick! We don’t eat sticks, silly!” and my 4-year old daughter said, “Yeah, Lulu. If you eat sticks, you will get old.”

So let’s riff off that. Write a poem built out of four (or however many) cinquains that tell the story of someone getting old. Make sure one of the things that made them old was something they ate. Something they saw. Something they heard. Something they felt. A fragrance. Have the first line be the person’s name. If you want each cinquain to be about a different person, cool. Oh, and if you forgot what a cinquain was, here’s the format:

line 1 – 2 syllables
line 2 – 4 syllables
line 3 – 6 syllables
line 4 – 8 syllables
line 5 – 2 syllables


Drury Lane

Name here,
Sign here, sigh there,
Wear and tear of the town,
causes tearing of hair, baby
cries —

–closed eyes.
Lullabies sung,
Tumbling now
that standing up has come,
Standing on your own two cold feet,
good bye —

–I smell,
the Muffin Man,
hungry as I run to
Drury Lane, a girl or
a boy or something else holds me,

my body,
isn’t what it
was, I can’t run,
but I can sleep now forever,
with
closed eyes.

 


This was written as part of National Novel Writing Month 2017, [Day 2, Writing Prompt #83]