Apr 5, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Rift Valley Within the Lute
©April 5th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Red-headed house finches at bird-feeder,
Spring stirring in their breasts.
Why do you fight over our land?
Hum of electricity buzzes,
Ticking clock punctuates regrets.
We cannot breathe! Help us!
Golden light spills over the table
Crowded with comfort, a cup of lemon tea.
We’re dying, our children, our children!
People driving their cars homeward,
Breaking rules, caught by mobile screens.
We curse you and yours
May your hell never cease.
What shall we have for supper?
May your guilt dog you
Till the day you die.
Chinese food for a change?
So tired of cooking!
May every good deed you do
Vanish into the void.
Who is this bag of emptiness,
Unable to rise and work?
May you weep tears of acid
May you never find peace.
Brain buzzes like a swarm of bees –
So tired of everything …
May your world drain of colour, like ours
May your lives drain into desert sands.
Look! A crocus! Spring’s here!
The air is ripe with rain to come.
Why did you let our children die?
Startled by sound, the birds fly away,
And gray light saturates all.
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Tags: #ChemicalAttackinSyria, #InternationalStruggle, #NaPoWriMo2017, #SpringinAmerica, #WarontheInnocents
Apr 5, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Lilacs©Vijaya Sundaram, 2016
Growing Old With Lilacs
©April 5th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Lilac-trees at the base of our steps –
Purple and white ghosts in May.
Swooning air, gladdened eyes, a
Bunched and tight need to hold on –
Bloom with them.
As quietly as they bloom,
They fade, browning into death.
Every year, without fail,
The lilacs make for a new
Falling-in-love, and out.
Heart beats just a little faster,
Wild need to kiss everything
In sight overwhelms skin.
Shake it off, but hold the feeling
Close within, like a secret romance.
Every year, the relentless onset
Of summer months, the gentle slide
Into autumn, fading all too quickly
Into grim winter, prickly and cold.
One grows older, faster.
So, eternal sunshine lures me
To eternal youth, but perhaps,
That might bore in time.
Besides, if I leave for sunny climes,
I shall miss my lilacs.
Agelessness loses romance.
For without fierce love
And fierce loss, all is
Placid, and placidity
Equals death.
I think I’ll stay and grow old
With my lilacs, and hold their
Fragrance close to my dreaming
Aging self.
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Tags: #Lilacsinmygarden, #NaPoWriMo2017, #Original Poetry by Vijaya Sundaram