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Writing 201: Ode

Prompt: Drawer

Form: Ode

Device: Apostrophe


This Ode is for those who have been there for us. The ones who helped us unlock our fears, in order to face them with great courage. Not many can unlock your true feelings, let alone help you overcome them.


The various hands covered my dues,

and the tunes that rejoiced in times of woes,

Valiant choice! Thee, who triumphed my wars!

Amid the choice of not to be!


 The stupor of my fragile state,

saved in warm, gathered by one muse,

I attest thee presence on celestial grounds.

Ah, joy! Oh, relief! You are near!


All doubts disappeared,

thee gentle hummingbird.

How thee interfered? Through the shadows,

through the grey, into the heavens you took me.


Majestic trust on hopeful horizon!

the rays peeked with shining glitter,

and I was whole, and eternal,

as thee walked me along the shore.


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Writing 201: Prose Poetry

Prompt: Fingers

Form: Prose Poetry

Device: Assonance


This prose poem talks about heartache. I did not use ‘fingers’ literally, but as a metaphor by using words such as, ‘ Point’.


Clap, and Waken

Radiant! Clap, or tap, my dear! I hear, in proximity to here. Why abandon my closure, but clothe my emotions? I listened for your words full of detritus. May I set free the flames for thee? I must point that they agree. The cloudless days are approaching, and the frozen slate – on the surface of your heart – it averts your true feelings; of fear, of love, of uncertainty. Be you – you decide – with me or without. You be who you were, or for whom I glistened my heart with sad tears. Point towards what should be true, persevere like on a quest for survival. Then, I clap and I am aware, of such probability.


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Extreme Randomness 

I’m using my iPod and I thought it would be fun to randomly type with my eyes closed, and see what I can come up with. It’s time to go to bed and this will help me wear my eyes out.

“Hello bar you when wk eke keen eke hug pjbnbbvb dtthg vgyih Ogle rhuub ng ffhj dj dab server jnvd iodide nrn hydration hydrocarbon be gfdhj. Kougfjhv”

I’m guessing some words were autocorrected :p 

Give it a try! 

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The Meal Club

You have to admit it, at one point in your life you had a somewhat bizarre taste in foods. How many times have you made ‘weird’ food combinations? Why am I calling it ‘weird’ anyway? Everyone has different tastes in food, so it shouldn’t be called, ‘weird.’ I will say that it is a unique way, or part of a series of unique food combinations that we once desired.

In College, I had a recurring food combination. It was a hot dog sandwich, with coleslaw and ketchup. The hot dog had to be cut in half, the sandwich would have to be overflown by the coleslaw, and the ketchup would have to be spread all over the two slices – the crust peeled off with my fingers. Why did I like it? I don’t know. My guess is that it was my comfort food during stressful moments.

Did you have any? OR do you have any unusual food combinations?

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WordPress Poetry Contest

Wuji Seshat

Screen Shot 02-23-15 at 11.34 PM

Hello everyone, I’m holding a poetry contest called “Seshat Nibada’s WordPress Challenge” which I invite you all to join.

1. Create an account on
2. Post your best poems
3. Enter them into the contest (on a periodic basis)

The first event starts today February 23rd, 2015:

Once you have created your account on writer’s cafe, go to this link:


Once there, click on Submit.

Please comment here if you have decided to join, it’s open to everyone!

I will reward the best fresh authentic poems entered, and will feature the winners here.

Let me know what your wordpress site is and what your identity there is, do please reblog this, retweet this and on facebook as well to invite your friends who may be poets as well,

Thanks, will post details on this blog or in the page here “Calling All Poets”

I appreciate any support…

View original post 17 more words

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The Writing Club

If the title didn’t give it away, one of my favourite movies of all time is, ‘The Breakfast Club.’ It is a comedy-filled drama about high school students who have to go to detention on a Saturday. They each belong to a different ‘clique’ and that’s what makes the movie interesting. As part of detention, the Principal asks them to write an essay about who they are.

It got me thinking. If I were to be put in detention with a group of writers, and asked to write an essay about me, what would happen? In the circle of writers, who would I stand out to be? Would I be the poet, the debater, the bibliographer? Would I cause drama between the group, or would I quietly sit in a corner and seclude myself until the end?

I think there are various ways to describe who you are. The thing is, we are all constantly changing; adding on to our traits, or leaving memories behind. I can tell you how I live my life: I live my life as it turns out to be. But, who am I? I am random. I adapt to all situations I am given, or the ones I create. I am a listener, a helper, a good (hopefully) friend. I am also very selective of people I hang out with; I do not bring drama into my life. However, I am also a worry-pants, I worry about the people I love and care about. This doesn’t mean I know who I am going to become in the future, but the fact remains that this is what hasn’t changed. Although, I am trying not to worry too much about things.

That’s who I am, but not all that I want to become. I still want to help others through writing and hopefully be recognized around the world…that is until I retire on a different planet :p. The one thing I know for sure is that I am and going to be a good person.

❤ ❤ ❤ Love, Ellie ❤ ❤ ❤

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Writing 201: Ballad

Prompt: Hero (ine)

Form: Ballad

Device: anaphora/epistrophe


My hero (ine) in this poem is ourselves. I hope you agree with me that our lives are full of ballads; with and/or without tragedy. It’s different for all of us. If we think about it, any change good or bad will transform us. Will we like it? Not always. I will let you think about this for a moment. Next time you’re in the shower –hopefully soon, but hey, I’m not going to judge your habits – bend your arm and place it under the flowing water. What can you see? Some droplets will stay and some will wash away. It will be different each time, but you will still be yourself.

To hold, to be

Tell me what it’s like to stroll, on sandy terrains

knowing what is to be,

evading crumbs left by transgressors,

assuring yourself of who you are, in the rains.


To hold your hands, and shut unwanted marks

To explain known destiny 

securing your soul of untamed remarks

a plan duly thought of in time.


Tell me they can’t dent your heart

you have come this far

in times you have stopped to restart

and analysed your fractious path.


To hold your journey, it takes courage;

and the malaise rhythm parts you

To hide your sorrows, you breach your memories

and find who you thought you knew


Tell me you will hold your hands again

you will go far, without delusion,

thus time will favour your set plan

and set you free from seclusion.


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Writing 201: Fog

Prompt: Fog

Form: Elegy

Device: Metaphor

I let the words flow as they came out of my fingers. I kept in mind the use of Fog as the theme, while using Elegy as the form for the poem. I just kept going without paying attention to the metaphors. However, I will revise this poem, add metaphors, and later compare the two.


Enough, denial in blur! What it gives, what it gains,

mislaying inner growl, 

as one once romped through hopeful grove.

While its maladroit sensitivity 

transforms in recurring vanity.

It shows in semblance of pity

do not reject, pretty


As one’s soul convulsions to a defeat

until recovering without a presence

corroding veins fueled with anger.

In the shadows, it lurks without patience

not gracing the chants of one’s visions

Where am I? At my destination

without border,

and continuity of such efforts.


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Writing 201: Animal

Animal: Penguin

Form: Concrete Poetry

Device: enjambment

This poem is about letting your inner animal out in moments of anxiety. The poem is meant to look like a penguin (because, duh, I love penguins :p)



through the territories, until

              he found a small box                              in

the white sands of his favourite

bottle collection.

          here! It’s here!” He shouted.                                                                                   “The key! I finally found

 “It’s                                                                                                                                                                                  it!”

                                                                It  was                                                                   golden, but

                                                          now it’s                                                                          silver

                                             somebody                                                                                      changed it

                                                     they                                                                                           took it

                                            what am I                                                                                           to do

                                     I did not want it                                                                                        but I needed it.

                                My temperature rises                                                                                  my patience decreases

                                    Whoever grabbed it                                                                              has no decency

                                                          “What?”                                                                   “It can’t be”

                                       They are the same type                                                  “Ah! Yes!” They are mine

                                  one for my heart                                                                                       one for my soul

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Unknown Squirrel

There he was (or she? Let’s just go with ‘he’), carefully stepping on the fresh coat of snow. The only creature to give signs of life in the never-ending winter. Mr. Squirrel prepared for his journey, across the street. Did he forget where he kept his nuts? Was this a sign that spring was nearby? What was he doing? Why was he there? To cheer me up, I bet. I said it, I’m partial to squirrels.

I glanced through the window on a sunny but extremely cold day – with frost on the frames – and eager to see this creature enjoy his life. He appeared out of nowhere and it caught my attention. He was brown and looked healthy – normal weight for a squirrel I suppose, but I’m not a veterinarian – and I tried to figure out what he was doing. He stopped when he heard cars coming, and he moved a step or two towards the snow cliff in the yard. It was a great moment for a photo, but I didn’t want to disturb him. He was on a mission.

He didn’t get any food from the snow. He stood on the cliff until the cars went by. Suddenly, he made a run for it; he tried to cross the street. “Good luck, little buddy!” I shouted in my mind. I hesitated to go outside and witness first-hand his victory. I almost did, but then he stopped on the edge of the sidewalk. The cars drove by and he went back to the bottom of the cliff in the yard. And then, he ran until his heart raised to maximum (or so it seemed).

A lot of cars drove by and I lost sight of him, but then he triumphantly ran up the snow cliff across the tree, and went up the tree he must have longed for. He made it, and I was happy.