Comedy during Corona:

TSL prompt:April 24, 2020
Challenged to write a humorous pun intended poem with spoonerism and malapropism.

Example of spoonerism- The lord is a shoving leopard instead of the lord is a loving shepherd.

Example of malapropism-arrested two auspicious persons instead of suspicious persons.

The Phasebook announce meant
asks to rite humorous Poe tree.
Led me tr…
In this thyme of corona
hush..bands are trying

to cook and bun ning the foolkas,

and ba king bread ash hard

as a rock…and they think
they actually rock

like a lord.

Dosas are knot in circular shape

butt in the shape of different corntinents.

One went and made a marrot cilk(carrot milk)

Another ried fries(fried rice)

and it tasted sweet not

but very spicy and hot.

Another went to make a sorn coup(corn soup)

and it tasted as bad as the smell of his shoe.

Hush bands think they are expert in coup king. do? What’s up and

Fiercebook are not working

bcoz of pore Internet.

This virus is tee ching everyone

a lesion.

And poor wives heave to put

up width the hush bands

and kidzz…

Day are asking

Yum my food

for d tum my, mum me.

Fed up of doe ing all

doe mess tic chores.

Eye really hope

dis corona farts from

us all.

Let us all prey.

Deer Mukherjee maa dam,

hope eye mad you laugh.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

Take 2 – Ms. Bribe:

TSL prompt: A sarcastic and pun intended poem with a tinge of humor
April 24, 2020

Ms. Bribe was a lustrous lady
with a beaming body
who entertained and enticed
her customers sometimes (over)priced
including members of the apex body
who fell for her glamorous hues gaudy.

She gave them crunchy chips
and smiled with lustrous li(s)ps,
spoke sweet as honeysuckle honey
and got back phon(e)y money.
Gave back some pleasing Perk
and offered her skin silky and milky
milking the process as smooth as Dairy Milk
and no reviews of Five Star rating.. were s(ly)ilent like dating.

Tring…ring.. Tring, the phone rang
as if with a gong its tone sang,
she whispered in a local slang
and called them in person, the threesome gang.

She demanded a gold ring
and so did they bring
she hid it in her blue blouse
to take it back to her humongous house.

Her customers offered her gifts precious
and she returned favorable favors as if gracious
all polished like her own nail polish
with extra shines of embellish
until one day Mr. Sincere not since here
known for removing Miscellaneous sins’ attire
paid (no cash)a sudden visit to the cabin of Ms. Bribe
whose features he did not imbibe or inscribe.

Countered a countenance of grin
from Ms. Bribe’s chin
who thought she would always win
smiling in winsome sin
much to Mr.Sincere’s (cha)grin.
She was finally offered a chain
of handcuffs that put her in pain
but smiled a sly smile
that stretched for a mile
for she had a twin
Mr. Bribe who would help her win
the case with ease
by pleasing the jury again with appease.
Mr. Sincere screamed, “No vicious circle please.”

P.S.I am not bribing here the jury
Don’t stare at me with a furious fury.😜

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

An interwoven tale

TSL prompt:challenged to write with opening lines given and a portrait/painting in conversation with poetry
April 26, 2020

A newly wed husband gifted
to his beautiful blooming bride
a painting of a bird and flowers
with such elan as of elegant pride.

“Places you can find love
It sits around lurking in places”
intricately interwoven like the tapestry
of well-embedded laces.

He said to his wife, “Look deep
through those flowers, red, white and yellow
as the bird anxiously anticipates
in silent melodies of mellow.”

The wife replied, “Its beautiful
and painted so well by the artist.
He said, “ Through the music of memories,
it waits for the song of the true harpist.”

The husband continued, “Love
is unconditional and pristine
and lurks latently in anticipation,
in hopes through gleamed eyes that shine”.

The wife was still confused
and couldn’t comprehend his every word
and therefore he continued, “Wait for me
unconditionally like that bird

till I come back alive or dead
but I will be back for sure.
A soldier keeps his promise
and I will be back for sure.”

The wife cried, her tears
a mixture of pain and pride
as she embraced him tightly
gearing up to sail her next stride.

“Places you can find love
It sits around lurking in places”
intricately interwoven like the tapestry
of well-embedded laces.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

A window of perceptions

TSL prompt:
April 25, 2020

I replenish myself drenching in rosy rains of knowledge
as sequins of sun silhouette my dazzled views
through magnificent magniloquence of blooming magnolias
unfolding curtains of myriad perceptions to cobwebs of clouds cocooned.

My window wakes me to the wisdom of this wondrous world
as meandering melodies of moon scintillate songs of symphony
dipping me in a sea of unwinding waves never before
carrying away those puerile petals of prejudice.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

Take 2 – A window for different people
April 25, 2020

Different people have different windows of avenues
where the world unfolds through eyes of myriad hues.

A newborn is welcomed through the window of a mother’s womb,
whilst a toddler gazes a window of colorful flowers that bloom.

To a child a window of swings slide through a park
an adolescent embraces the silent solitary window of the dark.

A youth dreams through windows of ecstasy called love
a homemaker seeks windows of wings beyond her gas stove.

A worker hopes for windows of green pastures across the shore.
A retiree finds peace through the window of tranquility galore.

Through the window of Nature’s gentle caress, a blind person gazes,
a window for sure through mazes, amazes.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

Mirror Reflections:

Napowrimo Day -23
I am challenged to write about mirror reflections
unapologetically and unappeasingly.

Mirror reflections:(minus side)

I am a tapestry of stretch marks
an embroidery of wrinkles
an oasis of parched lips.

My true selfie-camera, the mirror.

Take-2 Mirror reflections (plus side)(Haiku)
Aah..awe struck I am.
Moon, feel free to borrow
some shimmer from me.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh


Bruno Catalyno ‘s “fragments” from “les voyageurs The”
April 22, 2020

y 22
A JOURNEY FORLORN:I am challenged to write a poem based on the sculptures of Bruno Catalyno’s “Fragments” from “les voyageurs the”.

I, the blue bag stand here clueless.
My owner kept traveling, holding me,
never failing to leave me;
I contain some dilapidated clothes,
a portrait of his family
and a few currency coins.

Through the sea he sailed and sailed,
in admiring the beauty around him he failed,
in the trails of his anguish he frailed.

He kept traveling in search of a greener pasture,
fragmenting himself in oblivious pains of fracture,
an intermittent iterant the calmness of the sea he failed to capture.

Never once he lost me
in me he treasured the family portrait of glee
however, his fragile mind and body plummeted to a fruitless spree.

His tattered clothes began to stink,
wandered he his torso in hoodwink,
his journey edging to nothingness of brink.

The birds chirped, the squirrels chattered,
the bees buzzed but they never mattered,
in flattered dreams, he faulted and got battered.

In his obsession of my possession,
losing himself in the guilt of his no progression,
he began shredding, defeating himself in confession.

A journey of mundanity,
he ruined his own vanity,
capitulating to the very essence of sanity.

He clasped me to fill me more,
to hand me money tripled to his wife he swore,
but gnawed and gnarled, finally he is no more.

I, the blue bag stand here clueless
My owner kept traveling, holding me,
never failing to leave me;
I contain some dilapidated clothes,
a portrait of his family
and a few currency coins, waiting to be adopted.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

Take 2 – Mother Earth

April 22, 2020
World Earth day:

Based on the sculpture if Mother Earth had a face and a body.😊
Mother Earth with folded hands:
Oh Mother Earth,
Forgive us for making you ugly,
over the years we have
pilfered you with
stains, wrinkled you
and made you wretched
for all the uniqueness
you bestowed upon us,
we have shattered you
and gobbled you
beyond words of guilt.

Please do not embarrass us
with folded hands
for in the pangs of greed
we spoiled you,
plundered and murdered you
nibbling the pristine beauty of you.
We celebrate you today with
Complete complacency.
Forgive us.


Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh


Napowrimo Day 21

April 21, 2020

TSL prompt: Today I am challenged to write
Words taken from Joy Harpo’s “Eagle” poem :

I have chosen the words
Kindness, sun, moon and beauty.

Kindness has a language of its own,
may we inscribe its inscriptions
before it fades into obsolete oblivion.

Like the sun, moon and stars infinite,
pristine Prayers
pervade upon the beauty of our lives,
may we use the power of prayers to bestow
peace upon Earth.

Prayer is the ultimate
rendition of intimate emotion,
may we all pray
for a better tomorrow
burying beneath today’s sorrow.

Prayers are priceless,
may we value it preciousness
and pray for the togetherness of humanity?

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

Take 2 – My Prayers:

TSL prompt:
Day 21
April 21, 2020
Words used from source poem:
Sun, kindness, beauty, wings.

In subdued whispers
the sun ushers in a new day
as I pray with folded hands
unfolding my wishes for
a new beginning
melting all agonies
in divine ambience.

The heart
confides ,
confesses and
converges into one communion,
the entity of God.

Those butterflies in
my garden inspire
me to unclasp
my wings,
I unwind
all afflictions
and nurture
the beauty
of kindness from
as prayers
amidst routine
for I believe
prayers don’t
have barriers,
they pervade
through my daily tides
of time
until the moon
peeps and I descend
to sleep.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

An ode to my readers

An ode of 4 lines in each stanza.
Rhyme scheme:ABAB

Today, I am challenged to write an ode to my readers.

Napowrimo Day 20

Like elixirs, you silhouette my verses
beyond mortality of this short life,
rhyme or cascades of free verses
penned with vibrant effervescences of a new wife.

A Spring of flowers ascend
through dazzling rays of golden sunshine
when the Autumn heart withered begins to descend
like a cocooned patient in quarantine.

I am no Wordsworth, Eliot or Keats
with oodles of amassed readers
but like an athlete in this game of heats,
I run through captivating claps of you cheerleaders.

Copyrights @ Brindha Vinodh

A conversation among three friends:

Napowrimo Day 19, challenge-2

In this challenge, I am asked to write a poem

Where three characters, the Cheshire Cat from

“Alice in Wonderland”, the Hamlin rat from Pied piper of Hamlin and raven from Edgar Allen Poe’s

“The Raven” converse during corona virus time

using the refrain- “The answer is blow in’ in the wind”.

Ms. Chesire cat aka Ms. C 

Mr. Hamlin rat aka Mr. R you see

and Ms. Raven of the corvid clan

aka Ms. Rav during this time of COVID plan

in a place called Nevermore

and let’s see what happens furthermore.

Ms. C says, “Come let’s hug”

amidst the z.z.z.z of an eavesdropping bug.

Ms. Rav says, “But can we?”

Interrupts Mr. R with a glee,

“No social distancing for us

coz of this corona virus

and together they sing in chorus 

“The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

That’s their new song

composed by Mr. R that they sing with a bong

and by the way as per Geneva Convention

cats no more eat rats as is the general convention

and so, Mr. R has no tension 

of Ms. C just to mention.

Ms. Rav says, “Did this originate from Mr. Bat,

our acquaintance who in the party sat

the other day sneezing and sneering

when all others were happily cheering.”

Ms. C says “That’s exactly my concern, friend

as they sing, “The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

Mr. R says, “Shall we find a solution

to this virus and create a revolution?”

“But how?” Ms. C interrupts with a grin

“Your grin is just going to help us win,”

says Mr. R and Ms. Rav nods

as they both begin to applaud

the magical power of Ms. C, the power invisible

that has the ability to beat the virus invincible. 

Ms. Rav says, “Don’t you remember the magic of the grin

you inherited from your great granny, Ms. Thin 

that has the special power to make 

bugs and viruses to sleep from which they can’t wake.”

Mr. R says, “Use that grin and become invisible

and reappear and become visible

and then that spoiled brat, Mr. Bat

will mind his own business,” listens Ms. C rapt

as together in hopes pinned

they sing, “The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

“Gradually, cases of COVID will come down

and that will be the talk of the town,” 

caws Ms. Rav and Mr. R says   

 “Yeah…Our friend Ms. C will cure it in days

with her magical grin and invisibility as per plan

and this time we can help the human clan

for poor guys they deserve a second chance”

as together again they merrily sing and dance,

“Decode our power, Oh! Human friend,

the answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

copyrights@ Brindha Vinodh.

The blue butterfly

I am challenged to write a poem on blue

butterfly 🦋 taking 5 things/concepts/words

from Robert Frost’s “Blue butterfly day”

The words I have used are:

Spring, wind, flower, sky flakes, flurry, mire,


Perched on that green leaf
like droplets drizzling over
parched lips,
a metaphor of her own
the blue butterfly
heralds spring
through democratic wings,
no worry, no hurry
or fluttering furry
of these half-baked human
sky flakes
burning in the fire of ire
in unassuming mire,
in the cacophonous wheels of time;
in an exotic state of euphoria
of her own waltzing
in embroidery through
the breeze
that for a moment
I wish I were that flower
whiffing her fragrance
but wait
why only a moment?
Wishes don’t have boundaries,
let me wish for more.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh


TSL prompt:
A poem on Forgiveness that I am challenged to write

April 17, 2020

Where do I begin?
Do I begin by asking my mom to forgive me
for putting up with my tantrums
as a child
or not helping her out with the chores
or my dad for not making him glad
with the best of my scores
or not being the daughter of their dreams?

Do I seek forgiveness from my husband
for failing to appease and please him
or for coping with my meaningless chides?

Or my kids for gnawing away
in the remorse of my maternal guilt
by ignoring their ingenuous deeds
failing naively to notice the little nuances
that elicit heed.

Or to Mother Earth
for making her bleed from this worldly fever
of unscrupulous ravenous pangs of human
tainting her with the smokes of human

Forgiveness is a blessing.
Blessed are those who are forgiven
and still blessed the ones who forgive.

Man is not a master of time
but a servant of his own misgivings,
a slave of his own judgment
where in this mortal life
forgiveness like a double-edged knife
teaches him
treats him
Cures him
Forgiveness is the exquisite essence
of human fragrance,
the ultimate superiority of inferior mankind.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh