Apr 30, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

The Return
©April 30th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

She returns every year,
Sometimes disguised, sometimes not,
Talons and teeth sharp,
Eyes brimming with wickedness.

And every year, I laugh
Push her aside casually, knowing
My strength, and  weave spells to
Paralyze her advance.

Every year, she returns,
And I say, “This is a spirit
Speaking to me, not me.
I shall slay this demon.”

The demon hides her face
Sleeve held aloft, smiling
She does not fool me. I sense her.
The air trembles, alert.

Sometimes, the demon
Creeps up behind me,
And sometimes, alongside.
And sometimes, from above.

But what do I do now, when she
Advances slowly towards me,
Fangs longer, talons extended?
Her laughter tires me so.
____________________________________________________

Today is the last day of NaPoWriMo 2017, and the prompt was to write about something that recurs.

Thanks for reading!

Tags: #Demon, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 29, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

Chasm
©April 29th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

Chasm fracturing
Amidst unity on earth
Time to build a bridge.

But if the bridge falls
And we plummet to the earth,
Let us learn to fly.

If we fly upwards
Let us splint the fractured earth
Mend broken places.

If we fly downwards
Let us greet the earth with joy,
And begin again.
_______________________________________________________

Today is Day 29 of NaPoWriMo 2017.  The prompt suggested choosing one word from a favorite poem – in my case, “Kubla Khan” by S. T. Coleridge.  The rest of the prompt is below:

Today, I’d like to challenge you to take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, concrete noun in it. For example, if your favorite poem is this verse of Emily Dickinson’s, you might choose the word “stones” or “spectre.” After you’ve chosen your word, put the original poem away and spend five minutes free-writing associations – other nouns, adjectives, etc. Then use your original word and the results of your free-writing as the building blocks for a new poem.

Tags: #Chasm, #Coleridge, #Day 29 NaPoWriMo, #Kubla Khan, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 28, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

Spring Days
©April 28th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

Sunny and gold
The light unfolds
Like lotus flowers
In morning hours.
Damp with dew,
The days are new,
And sunlight spills
While I stand still.
______________________________________________
Today’s prompt was strangely difficult for me, because both the poems I came up with before this one above were either didactic or trite, and I hated both.  Finally, I settled on this.  Dipodic meter is HARD!
Here’s the prompt:

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem using Skeltonic verse. Don’t worry, there are no skeletons involved. Rather, Skeltonic verse gets its name from John Skelton, a fifteenth-century English poet who pioneered the use of short stanzas with irregular meter, but two strong stresses per line (otherwise know as “dipodic” or “two-footed” verse). The lines rhyme, but there’s not a rhyme scheme per se. The poet simply rhymes against one word until he or she gets bored and moves on to another. Here is a good explainer of the form, from which I have borrowed this excellent example:

Tags: #dipodic verse, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Skeltonic verse

Apr 27, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

Remini-Senses
©April 27th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

Jasmines stir up specific yearnings:
Mornings after a rain-drenched night,
Loud birds, hopping from tree to tree.
The smell of sambhar and murungakkai,
And kathrikai curry, and kootu,
And karpooram and udubatthi,
And the ringing of the brass bell,
Sandalwood-scented parents,
Red-gold-bordered veshti-ed Appa
Pattu–podavai-wearing Amma,
Performing their morning devotions
Before the family gods and goddesses.
The sound of baby brother
Calling for our mother.

Jasmines stir up deep desires, too:
The feel of satin-smooth skin
After an warm-oil bath on Sundays.
Sunsilk Shampoo to mask
The earthy fragrance of shikkai.
Mangoes heaped in baskets
From our mango trees,
Fleshy and succulent,
Dripping with juice, as I eat
With pulp-covered fingers.
And the coconut-man’s harvest
Of our garden’s coconut trees,
Sit, inviting the sickle.
Stick a straw in, and suck
Suck all the coconut milk,
And I’m satiated.

Jasmines stir up sweet innocence:
A dream of romance,
Someday, the man I love
Will arrive, and we will sing
And live and love together, she thinks.
And all the while, this girl-child
Goes about her schooldays,
Reads and reads, and sings
All day, plays games on the terrace,
Teaches imaginary children,
Rows an imaginary boat
From the parapet, onto which
She leaps, goat-nimble, unaware
That she might fall, unafraid
Of all that is to be.
____________________________________________________________
Glossary:
Sambhar – a specific kind of Indian lentil-stew with too many ingredients to explain properly, but it’s absolutely delicious
Murungakkai – a long, pod-like vegetable from the “drumstick tree,” which is used in sambhar.
Kathrikai – a vegetable curry dish made with eggplant, or brinjal
Kootu – a stew with coconut, dudhi squash, lentils, yogurt and other delicious ingredients
Karpooram – camphor
Udubatthi – incense stick
Veshti – a sort of robe covering the lower half of the body, worn by men.
Pattu Podavai – silk sari

This is my second poem in response to the NaPoWriMo 2017 prompt for Day 27.

Tags: #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #SensoryReminiscences

Apr 27, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

A Canine Point of View
©April 27th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

She tasted like cinnamon
On honey cake,
Apples and the sea.

She tasted like cardamom
And curry-leaf,
And tangerines three.

And sunshine and rain
And laughter and pain
And thoughts that remain
Though banished again.

She tasted of kindness
And sometimes self-blindness
She tasted of sorrow,
That threatened her morrows.

She tastes like a friend
Whom I’ll love until the end
And keep in my heart
From the end to the start.
___________________________________________________________________

Today is Day 27 of NaPoWriMo 2017.  The prompt reads:

Many poems explore the sight or sound or feel of things, and Proust famously wrote about the memories evoked by smell, but today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that explores your sense of taste! This could be a poem about food, or wine, or even the oddly metallic sensation of a snowflake on your tongue.

Tags: #Day27NaPoWrimo, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Sensory poem

Apr 26, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

So, they couldn’t see …
©April 26th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

So, they couldn’t see,
These creatures who lived
On this swirling blue planet,
Laden with cloud and wind.

We moved among them
But they passed through us
Unseeing, unheeding,
And when we spoke,
They couldn’t hear.

Sometimes, the strange bulbous orbs
Above their breathing gills
Would turn this way and that,
But we didn’t understand what they were.

We carried our world, and it was
Transparent and pure.
We moved in our membranes
Floating in the star-shine
Flowing over their world.

Sometimes, they would hold an object
In their appendages, ugly and misshapen
(Flippers so rudimentary,
We laughed at them), and the objects
Flashed.  We knew they flashed,
For our skins burned.

Sometimes, we appeared visible
To their flashing objects,
And our outlines shimmered,
Red as blood.
Were those flashing objects
The real people of this planet?
Could they see us?
We asked them, but they were inert.
They gave no indication.

Their star grew older,
And their planet tilted further,
Coughing and juddering.
The air grew denser, darker
Slowly, one by one, they stopped moving,
Sagging beneath the weight
Of the poisonous air.

We moved among them.
Their bulbous orbs did not move.
We flowed over their forms,
They gave no sign.
Still, they held their objects
Clutched in their hands.

We flowed over the objects,
Prised them free, and ate them.
They held memories in them,
And as the memories broke loose,
We gasped with pain,
For we now knew who these creatures
Had really been, how they’d lived,
What they had created,
What they’d endured,
What they’d achieved,
What they’d built,
And what they’d destroyed.

And even as we mourned them,
We celebrated their death,
For though they were great,
They had not been able to see
In a world where one’s skin
Held all the vision of a universe
In every cell.

If you do not see,
You destroy.
______________________________________________________________

Today was Day 26 of NaPoWriMo 2017, and the prompt read:

Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a “World’s Best Grandpa” coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone.

Tags: #alien vision, #Day26NaPoWriMo, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 25, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

This Box
©April 25th, 2017
ByVijaya Sundaram

Within the knitted bones of this ageing skull,
Lives a little girl who dreamed her life away.

What she saw with her clear, wide eyes
She transformed into colours, skies
Full of music, full of song.

There were joys and sorrows, fears and rage, but dull
She was not, for all was sharp, and all, a play.

Sometimes, a rafting loneliness
Sometimes, a laughing only-ness,
As she poled her barge along.

She lives amidst the stories and songs in that box.
She longs to break it open, as she knocks and knocks
From within, but all she hears is the still sighing
Of stars, while she keeps her lone vigil, undying.
____________________________________________________________________

Today is Day 25 of NaPoWriMo 2017, and the prompt is about little, secret spaces.
Here’s the prompt:

In 1958, the philosopher/critic Gaston Bachelard wrote a book called The Poetics of Space, about the emotional relationship that people have with particular kinds of spaces – the insides of sea shells, drawers, nooks, and all the various parts of houses. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space – it could be your childhood bedroom, or the box where you keep old photos. It could be the inside of a coin purse or the recesses of an umbrella stand. Any space will do – so long as it is small, definite, and meaningful to you.

Tags: #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Spaces

Apr 24, 2017 Ekphrastic poem, NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, Uncategorized

Monastic Illuminations
©April 24th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

Snails and horses, sex and darts
And armored men with enlarged parts
And women with distended hares
Extended branches, full of snares.
All jokes aside, are these sad hearts?

Devoted to their prayer-books,
Deprived of hugs and loving looks,
These monks, lacking another’s love
Are raised, instead, to worlds above.
Are these, then, thoughts they cannot brook?

Or, do they thrive on scenes like these,
While singing psalms on bended knees,
Laughing with well-disguiséd mirth,
At things that cannot live on earth,
But which they gaze upon with glee?

Were they the precursors of crazed
Apocalyptic painters, dazed
With visions of another world,
Where those from paradise were hurled,
And found themselves down here, amazed?

Warrior snails and valiant knights
Flatulent and naked, sights
As one would never want to see
When thinking thoughts of piety
Enough of this, out with the lights!
__________________________________________________________
Today is Day 24 of NaPoWriMo 2017, and it’s time for Ekphrastic poetry, another thing I’d not previously (consciously, at any rate) essayed to do.
The prompt reads:

Today, I challenge you to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art. But I’d also like to challenge you to base your poem on a very particular kind of art – the marginalia of medieval manuscripts. Here you’ll find some characteristic images of rabbits hunting wolves, people sitting on nests of eggs, dogs studiously reading books, and birds wearing snail shells. What can I say? It must have gotten quite boring copying out manuscripts all day, so the monks made their own fun. Hopefully, the detritus of their daydreams will inspire you as well!

Tags: #Illuminations, #medievalmarginalia, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 23, 2017 Elevenie, NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

Two Elevenies
©April 23, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

Complacency
Getting fatter
In government halls
Growing like a cancer:
Metastasis.

Resistance
Fighting back
In city streets
Growing like a chorus:
Solidarity.
_________________________________________________________

Today’s Day 23 NaPoWriMo 2017 prompt is to write two elevenies.  (I’d never even heard of this poetic form before, and am delighted by it!)  Here’s the prompt:

Our prompt for Day Twenty-Three comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us to write a double elevenie. What’s that? Well, an elevenie is an eleven-word poem of five lines, with each line performing a specific task in the poem. The first line is one word, a noun. The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, the third line explains where the noun is in three words, the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, and the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line’s noun being what it is and where it is. There are some good examples in the link above.

A double elevenie would have two stanzas of five lines each, and twenty-two words in all. It might be fun to try to write your double elevenie based on two nouns that are opposites, like sun and moon, or mountain and sea.

Tags: #Double-Elevenie, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 22, 2017 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry

Seedlings
©April 22nd, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram

See, when you sow seeds,
You want good starter soil
Gentle water, bright indoor lights
In dark climes, winter-bleak, and
Sunshine when the cold breaks.

Say a prayer as you sow,
Sing a little note of love,
Pat down the soil, and
Hope for the best.
Every seedling wants love,
Even if it knows it will
Be food eventually.

Watch your seedlings grow,
Shy and sweet, sticking heads
Out of soil, drinking in air,
Sucking at water at the roots
Hungrily eating light.

When they outgrow their homes,
Transplant them, but oh!
Careful with the roots!
Prepare some bigger pots,
Add new, moist, rich soil,
Retain some of the old.

Set down your seedlings.
Stand back!  Bow your head.
Your pride casts a shadow.
Let your seedlings grow!

The Earth awaits them,
Spring hums rich, green desire.
Bright warmth saturates coolness.
Soon, they’ll be tall; you’ll want
To set their roots in good,
Quiet-breathing earth.

Hum with circling bees,
Crazed, nectar-dazed, as they
Fly in from your neighbor’s hives,
While you water your seedlings.
Their leaves unfurl with lust,
Their fruits swell with pleasure.
This lust is purer than any other.

Watch your seedlings grow.
Give deep, drunken thanks.
It’s a sacred thing to play
Midwife to Life.
___________________________________________________________
Today’s Day 22 NaPoWriMo 2017 prompt is to write a “Georgie.”  I’d never heard of this type of poetry until now.  Not sure what the form is, but the content, I gather, is a sort of “how to” agriculture-themed poem.

Tags: #AgrarianPoem, #Georgie, #NaPoWriMo2017, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram