Unlike Mathematics and other related disciplines that deal with numbers, the field of Arts is concerned with human emotions, experiences, and observations. Probably for this reason, its effectiveness and quality cannot be measured on any numeric scale. Time and again, in the world of Literature, among myriad other things, writers, critics and readers have articulated their views and opinions about Style of Writing. And until now, nobody has come to any final and solid conclusion; the debate will continue as long as the moon and sun appear in the sky. However, readers, if not critics, agree that simple writing style is more attractive and consumable.
I’ll pray to call on the deity of fire
As my loved brethren fete this holy day,
One that lets men forgo each grim desire
To joy with colours in a blissful way.
A good life is a contented life;
It isn’t chasing rainbows of flighty fleeting moments of happiness, fading ever-faster into flimsy emptiness.
It isn’t your colour, race, religion or creed,
Your gender, culture, or whether you are rich or poor.
If life throws mud at you, and it quite often will,
You shall remember you are a sown seed!
Can seeds detest earth that helps plants grow? Mud deigns to
Solve all issues faced, fulfil seed’s each need.
Put down your spade that digs the hole
Where all your dreams have gone,
And drop the heavy handed blade
You bled your memories on.
Let go the voice that cried in vain
And burnt away your soul;
Come on, my brother, take my hand,
For we are going home.
However strong the love bond may brew,
The love for the body does wither away
As carnal amour cannot forever stay!
The affinity for beauty that resides in the mind,
The attraction to knowledge is rare to find!
Looking out of my window, I see birds fluttering and flying in the breeze,
Squeaking and chirping o’er canopies to search seclusion for nesting in peace.
With the yawning cerulean, they flap the first stroke of their wings,
And into the abysmal blue; in merriment, they fly amidst the cloudy rings.
Letting us know that while working on a book, she starts with the ending and then works backwards, Ms McDonagh, who holds a BA Honours Degree in Drama and English Literature and a Diploma in Creative Writing, says once she puts pen to paper to begin writing a novel, she writes down the main characters first, then what they look like and what kind of personality they have. ‘I add other characters as I write. I do have a plotline into which I throw my characters, and then, I write how they react to the events that happen to them,’ she tells us, adding that this often means the storyline changes, depending on what her characters do. ‘I love writing like that as I have the freedom to change a story, yet I have the structure so that I can keep on track to a certain extent,’ she states.
Your absence is a raging storm,
One that refuses to abate;
It now wills to drive me, my fate,
Swirling and uprooting all calm.
No man now mad is to be looked down on,
Great stories for are told by manic men;
Mind that remembered minds stayed daft, didn’t ask
‘Has our existence maddened those come and gone?’
Tick tock goes the clock!
Time won’t let us dock.
Keep on moving. Act.
Action is Auspicious.
Everything that happens,
Happens for the best.
Time travellers take no rest.
Perhaps the universe
Is taking a test?
Perhaps the universe
Is taking place
Within a test?
How can I forget
those long walks, those long talks?
Those endless hours of plucking flowers?
Those mindful roams around winding roads?
Those flying kites and those starry nights?
Making a huddle while playing in the puddle?
Chasing dragonflies and chasing butterflies?
Smelling the petrichor after the rains galore?
The winsome smile after running a mile?
Her eyes tell tales
Even as her mouth mouths words none get.
The day she absented herself,
For her smile is now gone, missing;
Remains now just
A flesh without a soul, conscience.
I will treasure everything of you like the gems of wisdom a scholar keeps in the coffer of his mind. When I look at your smile, in my heart, poems take birth. As a chivalrous lover, I want to proffer them to you. For you are my poetry.
Says Mr Elustondo, who has had the opportunity to travel to many countries in Europe, Asia, and Latin America, ‘I would say that in writing, as in anything else in life, nothing comes easy and requires perseverance, self-confidence, and believing in what you are doing. Learning from a set-back should be a powerful motivator to move forward and become successful. It requires a cool mind and self-searching to understand why sometimes things do not go as we expect and whether we truly believe in our goals. Keep writing and reading since this helps us hone our skills and discover new forms of expression.’
Her legs are now treading artfully,
Stopping once she reaches her destination;
She’s content, for schools are now reopened,
Gladdened is she at the prospect of
Meeting new students,
And… making money.
She has never been to school though.
My brother was called point five since his walk
Was like that of a lass and likened much
To dames that were abiding far; his speech
Was quite high-pitched, possessing girlish touch.
The folks he was acquainted with would breach
Rules made, not one or two or three but each.
The ocean slumbered
Beneath the silent eyes of a sea of stars
Strewn across the vast firmament
The slow lapping of a million waves
Into deep sleep
Did the waters lull
All the fishes of the sea
Had for the night retired
Into myriad secret folds