Apr 10, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Words and Worlds
©April 10th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The Book Thief
Speak(s) with Wicked Words
In a Different Voice
On the Origin of Species,
baring White Teeth.
Self Comes to Mind.
While The Prophet is Reviving Ophelia
Into the Looking-Glass Wood we go.
Like An Anthropologist on Mars,
I find my way with The Golden Compass
and use an Amber Spyglass to spot
Garlic and Sapphires, which I put in my knapsack,
but The Ruby in the Smoke
makes my eyes burn, and there’s
Fire in The Ashes, which
The Warmth of Other Suns ignites.
Ishmael, I cry, I’m Waiting for Godot,
Invisible Cities were Slouching Towards Bethlehem
But Their Eyes Were Watching God,
As they sang Amazing Grace
While they waited for the Beloved to come Home.
And The Things They Carried as they
Walk (ed) Two Moons
made The Soul of the Night
glow like Numbers in the Dark
While The Once and Future King finds
Strength in What Remains in
The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Descartes’ Dream is
The Sound of a Wild Snail
Eating.
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P.S. All the titles of the books are italicized.
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This “Poem” was in response to the NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 10 (today), which reads thus:
And now for our (optional) prompt! … Today’s prompt comes to us from Lillian Hallberg. She challenges us to write a “book spine” poem. This involves taking a look at your bookshelves, and writing down titles in order (or rearranging the titles) to create a poem … If you want to take things a step further, Lillian suggests gathering a list of titles from your shelves (every third or fifth book, perhaps, if you have a lot) and using the titles, as close to the originals as possible, to create a poem that is seeded throughout with your own lines, interjections, and thoughts. Happy writing!
Tags: #BookTitleOriginalPoem
Apr 9, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Green
Green to Grey, to Gold to Day
©April 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
When I was young
And I was green
I wished to be
Both heard and seen
Now, I am older
Greyer, golder*
I’d rather see
And hear, and be.
When I was young
And I was green
I thought that life was
Not a dream.
Now I am old
And I am cold
For I’m just floating
Down a stream.
When I was young
And green of heart
I lived in songs
And books, apart.
Now, in my age
I wish to join
The wise, the sage
– I have my coin!
My coin in hand
I hold so tight
I’m full-prepared
To greet the night.
For when the night
I greet at last
Cold boatman, will you
Let me pass?
For I am old
And I am gold
My so-called green
Has never been.
When all is done,
Here comes the sun
And come the dawn,
I’ll be long gone.
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*Yes, yes, I know there’s no such word as golder, but I decided to bend the rules of the language.
Note: Also cross-posting this one to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Aging, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 9, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
In Confidence
©April 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
If I say this, will you hate me?
Will you convert or berate me?
Can I trust you with this thought?
Will our friendship come to naught?
If you wish to know, come near
Let me whisper in your ear
While I love our human spirit
And the forms our worship takes,
I cannot love religion,
And the craziness it makes.
I cannot love this God you tout,
Whom everybody seems to know,
Whose ego says, Believe in me,
Or else to hell you’ll surely go.
I cannot trust a God who says
If you believe, you will be saved
And to heaven I will take you
Even if you are depraved.
And yet, I pray for all in need
And wish for hope for humankind
And love not boundaries, save those
That keep hate out, till love they find.
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Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt:
And now, for our prompt (optional, as always). This one sounds simple, but it can be pretty difficult. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very personal that makes you uncomfortable – either because of its content (“I always hated grandma”), or because it seems too emotional or ugly or strange (“I love you so much I would eat a cockroach for you”). Or even because it sounds too boring or expected (“You know what? I like cooking noodles and going to bed at 7 p.m.”). But it should be something that you’re genuinely a little scared to say. Happy (or if not happy, brave) writing!
Tags: #Agnosticism, #Confession, #God-related, #InConfidence, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram
Apr 8, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
An Efflorescence: Five Flower Poems
©April 8th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Crocuses
Crocuses, purple and orange and white
Braving the snow and the frosty blight
Tender young sweetlings, but tougher than nails
Give us your strength, for, before you, we pale.
Tulips
Lush and richly soft, and tempting
Like a sensual thing in red,
Inviting poor, unwary souls
To her sweet and scented bed.
Sunflowers
Sucking on sunlight, growing tall
Singing in gold so loud,
Bright young sunflower, show us all
How you stand straight and proud
Roses
Mysterious, romantic and curved
The rose smiles in secret
Her whorled petals like an
Entire universe
Folded in upon itself.
And why focus on thorns?
The way is the sweeter,
If you can get past them.
For, what can be more beautiful
Than just living in beauty?
And beauty is her own
Protection, and not for
Greedy, prying eyes.
White Lotus
The seat of goddesses
The throne of wisdom
With moonlight and
Starlight flooding
Its silken petals
The white lotus floats
Dreamlike upon
A dream-lake,
Gathering perfume
Simply because.
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The NaPoWriMo prompt for today:
Apr 7, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Life and Death, and Silence and Sound (A Tritina)
©April 7th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The thrilling rain fills the air with sweet sound
Birds trill their joy aloud, and the soil sings
So, why do I feel so lost and alone?
For you are gone, and it’s the sky alone
Which feels my pain, the emptiness unsound,
Uncertain, and afloat – who’s that who sings?
Not I, but ’tis the grief of loss that sings
As I walk, silent, heart-broken, alone.
For with your death, my silence replaced sound
So all alone, Life sings, without a sound.
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P.S. I am SO happy, because I overcame my block against anything that resembled a sestina today (and it wasn’t too hard)! I guess I’m going to have to do a real sestina now, and next, I’ll tackle a Villanelle!
YES!
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo:
Our (optional) prompt for Day Seven comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us all to write a tritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.
Tags: #LifeAndDeath, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Sestina-related, #Tritina
Apr 7, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post‘s Daily Prompt: Faraway
Faraway: A Mirrored Fib
©April 6th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
It’s
A
Distant
Faraway
Place, where I come from –
And that’s where I am headed to.
It doesn’t matter if I slip, or fall, or if I’m
Crushed, or hurt, or if I disappear into thin air
I’m still going there, yes, I am
For, along the way,
I shall find
My old,
True
Self.
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P.S. So, this is the first time I’m writing a “Fib Poem” – I’ve seen these cropping up everywhere on WP recently, and thought I’d give it a shot. However, just to make things a little more interesting, i thought I’d reverse the order after I reached 13 syllables (7th line), hence the “Mirrored Fib.”
Here’s some more information about Fib Poems, or poems based on the Fibonacci series.
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Submitting to The Daily Post, and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Faraway, #Fib Poem, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
Apr 7, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, Uncategorized
Fruit – A Poem about Mad Desire
©April 6th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
What draws me isn’t just the actual fruit
You understand.
No, it’s the thought of fruit,
Its connotation, its symbolism
Its scents twining their arms about me,
Its hidden erotic profiles.
What draws me is all that is around it.
Yes, it’s the nature of fruit
To entice, to shame, to delight
To condone, to console, to
Stimulate, to make one swoon
With desire and dreaming-want.
What draws me is the symmetry
The perfection of an apple, where
Enticement and danger embrace,
And a sorry knowledge comes
With every bite – the knowledge
That this too, will end.
It’s the clustering of grapes
The mad, symmetric glistening
Globes of tight flesh encased in
Purple, or green, or red skin
That draws me in, like a humming
Bee which, though sated with juice
And nectar, and sunlight and pleasure,
Still gets pulled in by mere desire.
Its the bright, cheerful sunlit
Blips of orange packed so tightly
Into a globe, surrounded by an
Unwelcoming, reluctant, tangy
Skin, dissuading mere temporaries
From opening up its secrets.
Those are for me, only me.
And figs so purple-achy, and melons so round,
And dates, dense with brown sweetness
And jackfruit poky outside, succulent within,
And Indian jamuns, so tart and violet
And peaches, squishy and laden with juice
And plums the same, but deeper, darker,
And clementines, flirty sun-cousins to oranges,
And green, uncertain pears, both raw and ripe,
And summer berries and fall berries,
Red and blue, and crimson in hue,
Full of nectar, full of welcoming.
And every fruit that ever guarded
Its progeny jealously, possessively,
Yields up its secrets to me,
The lover at the heart of it all.
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From the prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 6:
Today, I challenge you to write a poem about food. This could be a poem about a particular food, or about your relationship to food in general. Or it could simply be a poem relating an incident that involves food …
Tags: #FoodPoem, #FruitPoem, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram
Apr 5, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, Uncategorized
Vegetable Sacrifice
©April 5th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Calypso dances around a campfire
While Bulls Blood is the sacrifice
Spicy Green picks a fight with the Red Russian
And the White Russian does the Tango, alone.
Diamond makes out with Lady Bell Sweet
While the King of the North frowns from his corner
Ida Gold proposes to Cosmonaut Volkov
Psst! There’s some romance out in space.
Cherokee Purple whispers with Black Krim
As they plan the overthrow of
German Johnson in the Jubilee, before
A Fiesta, which will follow the wedding.
Jasper gasps in Kentucky Wonder
Hidden behind a pole.
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P.S. Coincidentally, I planted many of my heirloom tomato seeds (some of which I’ve mentioned above) just two days ago! Some of these other things (Kale, Cucumber, Beets, Beans, Eggplant and Peppers, also mentioned above) are going in soon.
From the NaPoWriMo prompt, which reads:
And now, our (optional, as always) daily prompt! April is a time for planting things (at least where I am, in Washington DC – you may still be waiting for spring, or well into some other season!) At any rate, I’ve recently been paging through seed catalogs, many of which feature “heirloom” seeds with fabulous names. Consider the “Old Ivory Egg” tomato, the “Ozark Razorback” or “Fast Lady” cow-pea, “Neal’s Paymaster” dent corn, or the “Tongues of Fire” bush bean. Today, I challenge you to spend some time looking at the names of heirloom plants, and write a poem that takes its inspiration from, or incorporates the name of, one or more of these garden rarities. To help you out, here are links to the Southern Exposure Seed Exchange and the Baker Creek Seed Company. Also, here’s a hint – tomatoes seem to be prime territory for elaborate names. And who knows, maybe you’ll even find something to plant in your garden! Happy writing!
Apr 5, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Street
Street-Dream
©April 5th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Gliding through the streets ‘tween dusk and dawn
Sliding past your eyes; you look; they’re gone.
Shining through your gaze ‘tween noon and night
Finding eyes so glazed, it’s hard to think right.
He walks, she walks, and they walk all in line.
When seen by you, or them, they all decline
Your pity, charity, and silver dime –
What they want is some of your free time.
Do you have time to spare, O Brother mine?
Do you have time to spare O Mother mine?
Do you have time to spare, O Sister mine?
Do you have time, as I stand in this line?
The street is harsh, and full of hearts that beat
A clock that ticks and ticks, but no hands meet.
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Submitting simultaneously to The Daily Post and to NaPoWriMo.
Tags: #Dream, #sonnet, #Street, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost, #Time
Apr 5, 2016 NaPoWriMo, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt for April 1st: Colorful
Colored Me
©April 5th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Color your world blue
Blue ice, blue eyes,
Blue mood, blue skies.
Color my world brown
Brown skin, brown hair
Brown earth, brown stare.
Color their world green
Green trees, green grass
Green youth, green lass.
Color our world red
Red blood, red flowers
Red hearts, red scars
Color our space gold
Gold sun, gold dunes,
A golden noon
Color my world black.
Black eyes, black skin
Back where you’ve been.
Hold my blue,
I’ll follow you.
Hold my brown
I shall not frown
Hold my green
(Of youth, I mean)
Hold my red,
I’ll not be led.
Hold my gold
To make you bold.
Hold my black,
Don’t hold me back.
Hold me thus
In all my modes;
In all my sorrow –
The dread it bodes.
In all my joy,
The boundaries break;
In all my peace,
It’s love I make.
In all my art
Live songs I sing
In all my worlds,
I rise on wings.
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Submitting this simultaneously to The Daily Post, and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Colorful, #Colors, #DailyPrompt, #ModesandMoods, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost