Dearest Readers,
Welcome to Week 4 of our “Poetic adventure- The 10-week Poetry Write-Along”. Hope you all had a wonderful time learning about haiku and writing a bunch of haiku last week.
This week, I intended to work on the Hermit Crab Poem, but it took me spiralling down a rabbit hole, which I am yet to recover from. Instead, we will be exploring the self-portrait poem, which has been quite popular in the last couple of years.
Here is one to start us off by A.K. Ramanujan:
Self-Portrait
I resemble everyone
but myself, and sometimes see
in shop-windows
despite the well-known laws
of optics,
the portrait of a stranger,
date unknown,
often signed in a corner
by my father.
That last line resonates in me, resoundingly.
Here is another one by Chen Chen, in the same vein: Self Portrait as So Much Potential . The undertone of ridicule in her voice with the mango and tomatoes and mango-tomatoes: Golden!
I am yet to figure out why I identified with Self-Portrait by Adam Zagajewski at all. He seems to be older, male, in a different part of the world/era, but, maybe it is the wandering lost artist in him that appeals to me. He is doing nothing spectacular—maybe it is just an ordinary connection.
And here is another way to go with the self-portrait poem, drawing on surrealistic elements: Self-portrait in the Bathroom Mirror
There are thousands of self-portrait poems out there. We poets seem to love to talk about ourselves, don’t we?
Here is mine:
Self-portrait as a time-lapse
The Past
shiny eyes/ a core of quiet/ a special hiding place behind the pallu of my mom’s pink silk saree/ a strong distaste for prying voices/ builder of dreamthreads/ smiles (only) on a full stomach/ belief that at the centre of every universe (small or big), there is a core of goodness/ joy and safety outweigh any burdens/ the shiny eyes look out to the river
The (dreamthread) Future
every time the sun rises, it spreads its hands to disperse the fog/ the dream threads are bunched together and assume the name of home/ the home has holes/ the home has plugs-hugs to plug the holes/ the home is the boat on the river that continues to flow down the river till it reaches the sea
The now
rumble at the centre of the river/ the paddle is heavy/ beliefs break, break the raft/ empathy builds a boat/ doubts weigh down the boat/ the boat is a book authored by a confused hand/ the book loses its opening line(often) and gropes through blank pages/ the book is a fountain pen that feels outdated/ the fountain pen learns to type with two fingers/ the river moves faster than the ink from the fountain pen/ the words lift the paddle, letter by letter/ the words try to find their way to the edge of page but find themselves at the beginning of a blank line/ the words float without directions to the (untitled) home
PROMPT for the Week:
Write a self-portrait poem. You have so many facets. You see yourself and your life in a certain way according to the lens you wear that day. What lens are you wearing now? Would you see yourself the same way in 10 or 20 years? You could choose to highlight one quality of yours or give the reader the essence at the core of who you are. Whatever you write, remember to have fun!
That’s all for now! I look forward to reading your poems.
Happy Valentines,
Be kind,
Namratha
About me
by Stefano Carini
A falling star
leaves fleeting light
into the sky.
It is not night, though—
and all is blue.
As water is the clouds,
rivers and oceans,
looking for me
would find, instead—
You.
Oh ... I see... this is a game
I read from the inside out
And answer my way back to the question
If reality is relational
Then I only see myself
When I see you
If I look too closely at myself
I disappear