Dec 15, 2015 Original Poetry
Wailing Wall
(Prompt: Graffiti; Poetry, Day 8)
©December 15th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
Standing uncertain
And pulling the curtain
Away from your eyes
You stand, hypnotized.
Come, write this on me,
Tell yourself that you’re free
From the fate that dogged you
And the hate that fogged you
And all you’ve endured since
The time you were born
You lost and hurt prince
So scarred and so scorned.
Show me you’re here
Before me, and come near!
Come spray that word-art
And tell your split heart that
Though things won’t be fine
You’ll free up your mind and
That ache within you.
Now, make within you
More space for love missing
Who’s there who’ll listen?
Just the night-air and I
(The wall where you cry).
And I don’t begrudge you
Your secretive words
Nor will I judge you;
Your cry is unheard.
Then, after you’re spent,
And said what you’ve meant
May peace within stir,
And know that right here
All of your rage that was
Trapped in its cage.
Has found its release,
And has vanished in peace
Come, cry me a river
And come, make me shiver
Come, cry out in paint
Though it might be in vain,
At least you, my friend
Will make art in the end.
_______________________________________________
Tags: #Writing 101, Poetry, Day 8, Graffiti, Wailing Wall
Dec 15, 2015 Original Poetry
Ouroboros
(Prompt: Beloved, Poetry, Day 7)
©December 15th, 2015
Vijaya Sundaram
When the stars have burned out
And turned into lumps of coal
Useless, unless sparked into life,
That’s when I might, just might
Leave you.
My beloved, it’s because I have
To light those stars again.
It’ll take some time
Before I return.
An eternity, perhaps, or
Just the time it takes to
Create another, crisper
Tighter Universe, self-contained
Not expanding uselessly —
Such a waste of space
That would be!
Will you forget me
And move on, seeking
The ghost of a memory?
Or will you stick around
And wait, while I tend
To those fires?
Because, you know, beloved,
Ours will always endure.
We journeyed across
Continents of space-time
And burst into this world
Comets from the heart of time
Except that we bent the warp
And weft of space, and time
Bent upon itself, an
Ouroboros weaving itself
Into itself, being born
And unborn,
While we, too, met and
Parted, met and parted,
Knowing we’d meet again.
So, if you’ll wait here, right
By this doorway into that
Other world, I’ll return
From my light-self,
Into this body, and hold
Your hand forever,
And never let go.
______________________________________________
Tags: #Love, #Ouroboros, #Writing 101, Poetry, Beloved, Day 7