May 9, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Chaos
Take Off The Lid
(On the Chaos in My Mind)
©May 9th, 2016
Want a peek into pure chaos?
Lift the lid to my brain
Go on, do it!
Ah, I knew you were too scared
Worried about what you’d find, eh?
Here, I’ll take you by the hand,
Shine a torch into the darkened corridors
Let the air in a bit.
Here’s a room filled with insecurity:
Too many doubts, too few doubts,
Too much judgement:
For doing, or not doing,
For being, or not being
This, or that, or the other.
Castigate myself:
Too many moral standards
To vault over.
Too many ambivalences,
Too many opposing pulls:
Should I, shouldn’t I?
Why should I?
Too many fears, unspoken anxieties.
Commitments to flee from
Commitments to bind myself with.
And while loving getting older,
I’m hating it with a passion.
Wishing to borrow this mind
And inhabit my younger self.
Walk cautiously, the dust will
Choke you, trip you up.
Here’s a room filled with joy:
Music, music, music swirling
Like flower-strewn winds.
Rich pleasure in simply being
In my skin, oh how lovely!
Love, so much love, bursting
With love for so many!
Sensuous joy – mine alone.
All that sunlight to drink,
All those colors to steep my skin in,
All those fragrances in which to drown,
All those birds to gaze at,
All those silken scarves to
Brush against my silken skin.
(Older silk is sweeter, by far)
All the love my husband pours over me,
And which gives me life.
The sweet hugs my daughter gives me
When I do some simple thing for her.
All the pleasures of moving
Feeling my limbs working,
Feeling sunlight and warmth
The sliding down of grateful food
The slipping of delicious drink
That soft sigh my dog makes when
The night makes her curl up.
The sense of spinning from
The earth, as I walk gratefully
Upon her, enjoying life.
Walk cautiously, the clamor here
Can be deafening, even if it’s
A noisy celebration, and
The lights are too bright.
And it’s all jumbled up here.
Sometimes, in the midst of
This room of joy, a remembered
Sorrow trips me up.
I could organize all this,
Label them neatly and file
Them away into happy
Memory drawers, a file cabinet of sorts,
But they’re ongoing. They’re alive,
Not forgotten, not lost.
I need to move some of them
Into another room, larger, quieter,
But for now, I let them lie,
Ready to leap into life.
And sometimes in the room of
Deep insecurity, piled high
With old worries, or privations,
I see a passage of pure light,
Leading to an open window,
And see that I simply need
To chuck most of that stuff out,
But not into the yard,
No, chuck them out, and make
Them vanish with a simple spell.
That would restore order,
But allow some chaos
To linger amidst it all.
I wouldn’t mind that.
For, in chaos,
Surprises lurk, and lie in wait.
And I don’t mind a little dust,
Even if it makes me cough.
And the occasional gleaming jewel
I find, as I pass through, is worth
A thousand dust bunnies.
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Tags: #Chaos, #DailyPrompt, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
May 9, 2016 Uncategorized
Dear Readers,
I want to thank all of you who visit my blog, and read what I write. It would mean a lot to me if, upon reading my work and liking what you read, you take a minute to click on “like,” and click on the post title to leave a comment. (And of course, if you don’t like something, you don’t need to press “like”, but if you do appreciate something, it’s nice for me to hear from you!)
I’d like to know who my mystery readers are, and thank you (and if I’m not already following you, to be able to visit your blogs).
With warm wishes and gratitude,
~Dreamer of Dreams
(Vijaya)
May 9, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Stroll
Cloudy Stroll
©May 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Take a stroll down your street
See that leaf spiraling in the wind?
Pick it up, stick it in your hair.
A piece of sunlight, green-veined,
Is yours for an hour.
See that man with his hound?
Slow and old and heavy they are,
Sweet and sad and patient.
There’s gentleness in his smile,
Protectiveness in the dog’s look.
Stop and pat the dog, who’s
Now accepted your existence.
His former loud bark, a mere
Expression of his being, now
Gone, as he looks up, quiet,
Calmly allowing my patting,
Perhaps drawing comfort therefrom.
The dog’s golden eyes seek mine,
There’s knowledge of death in his.
“They think he’s got cancer,”
Said the man, tragedy lurking in his smile.
My heart lurches. Tears sting.
I’ve come to love this barky hound.
I move on in the opposite direction,
Full of affection for Huckle,
And full of sadness for his master
Whose name I do not know.
And I walk on, homewards,
Wordless in mind, full of visions.
The sun slants through
The reassuring oak tree
Whose acorns
Scattered all around from last fall,
Still linger in spots.
This dog’s inevitable stroll
Through his days to his end
Hurts me.
I, too, will face death someday.
I don’t mind mine –
I mind his.
The afternoon sun seems sombre
Strange clouds gather on the horizon.
A cloudy stroll on a sunny day.
I ascend the steps leading upwards,
Up to my house on a hill.
Daffodils and tulips gulp the light.
And pale lilacs leave the ghost
Of their purple fragrance
On the sweet, damp air.
My heart is full of dog.
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Tags: #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Stroll, #TheDailyPost, #TheDailyPrompt