Sunset Journal: Last Entry

I had asked the driver if he minded skipping the Old City route, which is Bhopal’s engagingly tacky Main Street, in favour of a twistier, longer way that ran along the Big Lake. I wanted to watch the Sunset over water.

I hear even genius palls when taken in large doses, perhaps it does. Like my prowess of reinventing sunsets, one of the most hackyened subject of poetry, is eventually ebbing away. But one thing which never palls is the beauty of a sunset. And When I say beauty, I mean truth.

Molten sun had swum over the lake, I wondered if it would be possible to write it the way it looked from the car: Sunset in motion, a raging fire just beneath the water.

When it is over said and done
it was a time
and there was never enough of it.

144 words
linked to dVerse host: Merril
Prompt line:
when it is over said and done
it was a time
and there was never enough of it.

Below is my muse and how I came up with this piece, it was harder than I thought it would be to weave my prose with this prompt.

My father told me one day that he too wrote poems when he was young, he even recited me one, which he remembered to this day. After the poem was complete, it was a very good one (something about sunset and politics), I asked him why he stopped. He told me he lost interest and found more pleasure with the other happenings in his world (job, marriage and ofc me and my little brother). Well, I didn’t say it to him but that aspect frightened me. I can’t imagine a world without poetry, I think it’d be like a world without sunsets. I love sunsets (as I’m sure you do too) and I wish I never lose my interest in poetry as I get old. I hope for an everlasting sunset.

~Jay

A reading of the poem “Arithmetic”

Dear Reader, I invite you to listen a fun poem about Math written by the famous american poet Carl Sandburg.

Hey fellow bloggers and readers!

I recited this poem to my kid brother one day and he loved it, so I thought why not make a video with fun illustrations and share this wonderful poem with everyone! Maybe you already know it as it’s a quite popular one, it’s one of my favorites by Carl Sandburg.

I hope you have fun watching the video and listening to me reading it. Do let me know in the comments if you liked it or suggest any improvements, I am always open to advice 🙂

Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your
   head.
Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or win if you know how
   many you had before you lost or won.
Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children go to heaven — or five
   six bundle of sticks.
Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand
   to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.
Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and
   you can look out of the window and see the blue sky — or the
   answer is wrong and you have to start all over and try again
   and see how it comes out this time.
If you take a number and double it and double it again and then
   double it a few more times, the number gets bigger and bigger
   and goes higher and higher and only arithmetic can tell you
   what the number is when you decide to quit doubling.
Arithmetic is where you have to multiply — and you carry the
   multiplication table in your head and hope you won't lose it.
If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad, and you
   eat one and a striped zebra with streaks all over him eats the
   other, how many animal crackers will you have if somebody
   offers you five six seven and you say No no no and you say
   Nay nay nay and you say Nix nix nix?
If you ask your mother for one fried egg for breakfast and she
   gives you two fried eggs and you eat both of them, who is
   better in arithmetic, you or your mother?

Shades of life

The stream of life
The shades of light
A roll of dice

Sings a lullaby
In the night
The sheets of ice

falling outside
from the skies
The jeans (on) sewn tight

the ink smells nice
The seeds sown, rise
It feels so nice

Oh Jesus Christ
to watch the sun, rise
The silver knives

shine so bright
but she sleeps so tight
and she seems so nice

a paradise
to my sour eyes
So I seize the time

with my cheesy rhymes
to make her mine
for all the time

cuz’ even though
for she’s now alive
she seems alright
and she’s so nice
but she soon dies.

also linked to dVerse, stream of consciousness, Grace

In stream-of-consciousness writing, the poet or novelist turns to the flow of ideas, observations and emotions that invade our consciousness, many times hovering just below the surface. 

Basically, its purpose is to emulate the passage of thought through your mind without any inhibitors. For that reason, sentences become longer, less organized and more sporadic in style. Its lack of structure is not for everybody, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any order. Stream of consciousness permits deeper patterns of order to emerge, ones based on the genuine movement of information in your brain.

© dixitmrityunjay, 2020. September heart-to-hearts

Song Cover: Dead Flowers by Rolling Stones

Dear reader, I invite you to listen me sing this amazing song by Rolling Stones.

In this song, Mick Jagger addresses a girl named Susie with more than a little disdain: She’s welcome to send him dead flowers, but he’ll put roses on her grave. Also, like many songs in rock history, Dead Flowers, the country tune from Sticky Fingers, might sound like it’s just about ill-fated romance, but it’s also about the alluring dangers of drug use. (Heroin comes from poppies!)

I love to do karaoke when I feel bored or stressed out and The Rolling Stones are my go to. I’ve compiled some images I like and recorded the karaoke using my mobile mic, I haven’t used any music studio software to edit the audio either, I just played the karaoke on my stereo and started to sing.

I hope you’ll enjoy my performance, please feel free to leave comments and suggest any improvements as this is my first singing video I’ve recorded (trying out new things in the Lockdown! hehe :))

Take care.

~Jay

LYRICS

Well, when you're sitting there in your silk upholstered chair
Talkin' to some rich folk that you know
Well, I hope you won't see me in my ragged company
You know I could never be alone

Take me down little Susie, take me down
I know you think you're the queen of the underground
And you can send me dead flowers every morning
Send me dead flowers by the mail
Send me dead flowers to my wedding
And I won't forget to put roses on your grave

Well, when you're sitting back in your rose pink Cadillac
Making bets on Kentucky Derby Day
Ah, I'll be in my basement room with a needle and a spoon
And another girl to take my pain away

Take me down little Susie, take me down
I know you think you're the queen of the underground
And you can send me dead flowers every morning
Send me dead flowers by the mail
Send me dead flowers to my wedding
And I won't forget to put roses on your grave

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