Apr 21, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Locked
Locked Wor(l)ds
©April 21st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
In a room so far away
A lady lives a black dream,
Locked away from
Everyone she ever loved.
Cold she is, and full of dread
For, soon one day,
She’ll be dead to all,
And no one will ever
Know that she lived,
And loved, and danced
And sang, and made
A whole world come alive
Painting by painting,
Dance by dance,
Song by song,
Word by word.
The earth grew things
Under her words, and
Animals took shape
And so did birds,
Titans and gods walked,
And people stood upright.
Rivers flowed silver-clear.
Oceans grew whales,
And fish and lobsters,
And the sky grew birds,
And the land grew trees,
And the trees grew people.
And the people saw her,
Mocked and teased her,
Saw her fright, laughed
In fierce delight,
And sent her far, far
From them in loathing.
Now, disease grew
Death came, clothing the land
In Stygian gloom.
Rivers flowed blood-red
And brooks flowed mud-brown
Songs of joy soon turned to
Songs of sorrow, while
People paddled barges of dirges
Through water-hyacinth-clogged
Lakes, through rivers that
Slowed with time, which swung
This way and that, a pendulum
Between one world and the next.
For still, she made worlds,
Still she sang – her words were daggers
A piercing blade, full of rage,
Blind fury, love thwarted.
Staging a coup, her people
Found her, flung her in a tower
A star leaned down, single and cold
And a moon cut away a sliver
Of itself day after day – her moon,
Her star, her world, her doom.
And here she lies,
Alone, outcast, the Mother
Of all, the Maker of beasts,
The Giver of all things
Mutely, she stares
Into the glaring darkness
Of her locked room,
Blind with sadness.
Now, slowly, slowly, in a
Dream, she takes the key
(For she made it), kisses it,
Flings it into the
Waiting arms of night,
And slowly, slowly
She unmakes herself,
Taking her locked tower,
The people, the animals,
The fish and whales,
The birds, the rivers and brooks,
The star and moon,
Disease and death, barges and dirges
Hyacinth-clogged rivers,
Songs and dances, and words,
As she vanishes into a dream.
And somewhere, the key
Floats along on a stream
Of stars, far, far away.
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Tags: #Locked, #NewFairyTale, #NewMyth, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost, #TheDailyPrompt
Apr 21, 2016 Original Poetry, Senryu, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Fog
Fog Rising
©April 21st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Curtain lifts with sun:
Fog rises and dissipates
Coffee clears my head.
Gentle words soothe me
Mist of despair vanishes
Thank you for your love.
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Tags: #Fog, #Metaphorical poem, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost, #TheDailyPrompt
Apr 21, 2016 Free Verse, NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
What the Mountain Heard
(Poem From Point of View of Echo’s Mountains)
©April 21st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Whom does she call, this Voice
So alluring, so full of anguish,
So rich with music, quickening
With languishing love,
So haunted by lost hope?
Whom does she mourn,
Surely the most forlorn, the
Most beautiful of nymphs
Ever to dance lightly
Upon my slopes,
This sylph smitten by love?
Innocent nymph, so
Free from travails ere now
Now, entrammeled by woe
Why do you cry and call?
Fallen into a spell that
Besets those who live,
Whom do you mourn?
Why did you succumb?
Look! Don’t cry. For I
Will magnify your voice
Thrice three times,
Again and again and again,
For you sing me the music I crave.
I will repeat your brave words
So they will be heard
Again, and again, and again.
Come, call out once more,
For I have grown to love you,
And though that proud lad
Gazing at his beloved pool
Heeds not the sound,
I know the Pool does,
For she creases her brow
And clears again – she will
Not allow your interference.
She will frown, and erase
The ripples you cause
With your cries, your voice.
Foolish Pool, keep your boy!
I’ll have my girl, for she learns
She is not loved, not by him.
She will wander my slopes
Over, and over and over,
Seeking what she will not find
I will love her, and she’ll
Not know me, not she who loves
A mirage, an emptiness, a reflection.
But I shall hold her voice
In my cradle of sound
Forever, and ever, and ever.
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And the NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 21:
And now, for our prompt (optional as always!) Just as Rosa Jamila’s poems often sound like they come out of a myth or fairy tale (and not always one with a happy ending), today I challenge you to write a poem in the voice of minor character from a fairy tale or myth. Instead of writing from the point of view of Cinderella, write from the point of view of the mouse who got turned into a coachman. Instead of writing from the point of view of Orpheus or Eurydice, write from the point of view of one of the shades in Hades who watched Eurydice leave and then come back. Happy writing!
Sent from my iPhone
Apr 21, 2016 Free Verse, NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
What the Pool Saw
(Poem From Point of View of Narcissus’ Pool)
©April 21st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
I am loved.
I know this to be true, because
When a beautiful young man
Leaned over, and gazed at me,
His eyes were a mirror
In which I beheld my
Own true beauty, my
Sky-clad translucence.
Entranced, I gazed back.
Gaia had sent him to me.
My loneliness now arose
Like mist from a dream
And vanished in sunlight.
And I contrived to keep him
In my thrall, despite the ripples
That disturbed my gleam
Despite the dream threatening
To sweep him away into
The chasm yawning beneath him,
Where he would’ve lost to me.
And somewhere, I heard
A forlorn voice, cascading
Like a silver waterfall
From the lonely mountains.
But I gazed at myself in his
Deep, brimming eyes, and
Was utterly
Lost.
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And the NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 21:
And now, for our prompt (optional as always!) Just as Rosa Jamila’s poems often sound like they come out of a myth or fairy tale (and not always one with a happy ending), today I challenge you to write a poem in the voice of minor character from a fairy tale or myth. Instead of writing from the point of view of Cinderella, write from the point of view of the mouse who got turned into a coachman. Instead of writing from the point of view of Orpheus or Eurydice, write from the point of view of one of the shades in Hades who watched Eurydice leave and then come back. Happy writing!
Sent from my iPhone
Tags: #NarcissusandthePool, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #PointofViewPoem