May 27, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
Forking Metaphors!
©May 27th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The temptation to make
A metaphor that is profound
Seizes me when I see a fork.
How irritating!
I shall deny this urge,
And prevent its expression.
I shall avoid all forks
That beset me when I
Travel the byways of my life.
I shall not fork over
Any money to those who make
Any bets about my using
Or not using a metaphor
With a fork in it.
I shall spoon my yogurt,
And forks be damned!
I shall spear my food
With a toothpick,
And garden with only
Shovels and trowels –
No pitchforks.
I won’t say forking hell!
No! Nor, shall I ever say
“I reached a fork in the road.”
All I need is to take this
Stupid metal implement
And stick it in some cake.
See?
I’m done!
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In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Fork
Tags: #DailyPrompt, #fork, #metaphors, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
May 27, 2016 Uncategorized
I’m sitting in my car, in a strange unsettled state, at a Whole Foods parking lot. This does not please me. I feel bad going there, but it’s closer at the moment than our Food Coop.
The sun is hot, and I’m feeling bothered.
I’m ashamed to say this, but for the first time, I truly wish I were in my mid-twenties again, just for the sheer pleasure how how free my body felt, entrammelled though I was in other ways.
This feeling will pass soon, I tell myself.
I am still fit, though no longer youthful.
Life still holds honey. Feeling young is mostly mental, but the physical part helps!
Passing thoughts in solitude in a parking lot on a late Friday afternoon.
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May 27, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry
Photograph©By Vijaya Sundaram, 2016
If You Tripped …
©May 27th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
If you tripped and fell
Headlong into my life
Would you fly, or drown?
The skies beat down
Like blue silver or silk,
And the sea screams “Seagull!”
You’d find yourself crossing an
Entire ocean, brushing up
Against seals and dolphins
Snarfing up some fish,
Avoiding nets and trawlers.
You’d get past islands
Of discomfort, trudge up
To tropical rainforests,
Take a right turn, moving to
Cold, frozen wastelands.
Do not be deceived.
Blue-white ice is beautiful
Sometimes, a body can
Be preserved perfectly
Waiting to be thawed
Right under it all.
Let’s leave the cold
Just for a while.
How about the heat?
Would you walk across
Hot coals and let your feet
Feel the fire, or would you
Flee, wanting out?
Would you greet the
Unicorns (yes, they’re lurk)
And the dragons (oh, very much there)
And the phoenix, aloof and quiet,
By name, and pay obeisance to each?
They like to be acknowledged.
They require payment.
They’ll ask for your
Truth and your fealty,
And they’ll repay it
In their own strange way.
The unicorn will gaze
At you from the depths
Of her forest, and will
Give you dreams, make
The moon descend.
Will you gaze back,
And send a dream to her?
Would you ride the dragon
And take the fire and the heat?
Would you sing, as you
Rise up higher, and higher,
And when you keep rising,
Would you beg to be let down?
And the phoenix will
Destroy all that you stood for,
And rebuild you, over
And over, and over again,
While dreaming of other worlds.
Look carefully where you tread
For you could trip and fall
Headlong into my life.
It’s not for everyone,
Not even me.
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Photograph©By Vijaya Sundaram, 2016
May 27, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post, Uncategorized
Carping about Carpe Diem (Countless)
(Or, A Whinging about Procrastination and Ennui)
©May 27th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Countless hours go by
And countless days slog along
And countless minutes flow by
And countless seconds jog along.
And still, I don’t seize them!
If I did, I’d have to release them,
And I hate holding time hostage,
Hate letting go of them, condemned
To fritter away the countless hours –
The hours of life after life that I live,
Repeating myself, cell by tired cell
Recreating it all, so boring, so tedious!
Waiting for an end to all this unaccountable
Counting of the minutes the hours, the days,
The years, the millennia of what passes
For this life, when it could be done with
One stroke
Of the pen,
Or one slit
Of the pen-knife!
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P.S. Please don’t be alarmed. This was just a post, nothing more.
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Countless
Tags: #Countless, #DailyPrompt, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost