Jan 16, 2018 Original Poetry
A Vision in a Fever-Dream
©January 16th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
A tree grows in a desert,
Magical and full-formed.
All around it flows sand
Like water in the heat.
Below the tree, a perfect Shade.
Near the Shade, a perfect cactus.
Near the cactus, a desert Fox,
Quiet and satiated,
The colour of fire and earth,
Lies asleep.
Around it are small bones,
With ants carrying away flesh.
There’s no water,
Except in blood.
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Jan 15, 2018 Original Poetry
A Little Light Verse
©January 15th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Little island in the sea
Waves keep rolling up to me
Wash away extremities
Cover me eventually.
Time rolls up, and rolls away
Sounds rush in throughout the day
Things to do, and things to say
Are what make me forget to play.
Midnight comes with quiet tread
The kitchen clock ticks overhead
Silence hovers near my head
And whispers, “Now it’s time for bed.”
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Jan 14, 2018 Haiku, Original Poetry
Truth and Ice
©January 14th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Ice in the comet
Steals sunlight, mimics fire –
We gaze, wonder-struck.
In the heart of things
There is semblance, or there’s truth.
Eyes make their own world.
Deep in heart-darkness
Truth lies, curled in foetus-form
Reshaping a world.
Comets, eccentric
Elliptical visitors
Are just distractions.
And yet, they carry
Life in the ice, entities
Not yet envisioned.
In the urgent Now
Ice melts, seas rise, winds destroy
Speculations die.
People die like leaves
Drifting downwards in currents
I dream of comets.
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Jan 13, 2018 Original Poetry
Punctuation Temptation
©January 13th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
The round chocolate sits before me,
A plump punctuation mark.
I could call it a full stop, a period,
But, to me, it’s more a comma,
An invitation to continue.
I could resist.
Indeed, I do – almost always – for
I lack that deadly downfall of people:
The chocolate-craving gene.
And I am smug about it.
Today, though, I wish to have one more.
Not to cure the blues, exactly.
Perhaps, to kick the weariness
That has set in, the drag
That pulls at my feel, that suck
My volition into a sea of waiting.
I reach for the rich, round full stop,
And let the dark, dark taste of it
Suffuse my senses, as I bite into it.
The velvet sweetness slides
Down my throat, and I close my eyes.
Somewhere, an exclamation forms.
I close the box of chocolates,
And put it away in a semi-colon
Gesture of semi-completion.
(The blues don’t go away, not exactly,
But they are in abeyance.
They pull back, and let me pass.)
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Jan 12, 2018 Original Poetry
Mystic Hour
©January 12th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Midnight is the mystic hour
When the weight of the world
Falls away, and only spirits
Dance along the edges of my vision.
I look away, because to stare
Would be rude:
I might scare them off.
To them, I am human, woman,
But to me, I am neither – I am
Thought-essence held together by purpose.
I am a sense of wonder cradled by a body.
My body impedes and annoys me,
And yet I love it so, I do!
Flesh and bone, and tendons and skin,
Corpuscles travelling tirelessly,
Neurons carrying mysterious messages,
Brown skin, grey-dark hair,
Dark eyes travelling inward,
Lines appearing on my face, my hands –
A map of the history of my world –
I love it all, and trace my journey
Through time, through my life,
And rejoice at having lived it.
And then, I see the spirits
Dancing along the edges
Of my vision, on the fence
Between here and there,
And I long to cast off my body,
Like a garment that’s fraying,
And don the air around me,
And dance with them.
Starlight limns them in silver, while
I sit under borrowed sunlight.
I glance at them, shyly,
And they, at me.
We hesitate, clear our throats,
Then, look away.
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Jan 11, 2018 Original Poetry
Break
©January 11th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
I am not a fan of broken things.
Still, there’s beauty even in shards.
The light falls so prettily,
So brokenly on them,
And there are so many reflections
Gazing back at me!
Things break – that is a given.
When small things break,
We’re thankful it’s not the big things.
And when big things break,
We’re happy it’s not bigger things,
There always another, bigger,
More beloved, treasured thing.
Thus, we fall apart, little by little,
Happy it’s not the whole of us,
Broken all at once, suddenly, finally.
I wonder what that would be like.
Would I be happy that it’s just
All of me that’s broken, and not
Someone else? Would I know?
Would I grieve this shattering?
Would every broken piece
Long for wholeness?
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Jan 10, 2018 Original Poetry
In the Dressing Room, Awaiting Form
©January 10th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Electricity hums to itself,
An insane loop trapped in wires,
And the clock ticks on and on
Like a water- buffalo going round and round
In its path around the water-wheel
Yoked and weary, and toiling mightily.
I sit and listen, an empty thing in a cluttered room.
And wait.
Clothes hanging forlornly on a rack,
Clothes draped limply on chairs,
Clothes spinning in the washing machine,
All await form and substance.
I sit, their attentive servant,
And wait with them.
Tomorrow, they will move with purpose,
Draped over their humans,
And create a world imagined
A very long time ago.
They will move with their humans,
And make the unreal real
Over and over again,
While the clock ticks on and on,
And they will move us all.
And I will wait.
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#theatre
Jan 9, 2018 Original Poetry
Child of my Dreams, Child of my Reality
©January 9th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Thirteen years and half a day ago,
The universe opened me up,
And brought you into daylight,
Child of my flesh,
So close, yet so separate.
I sang to you every day,
And named you for the Goddess
Well before I knew you,
Even as your form was being shaped,
Even as your heart beat like a
Little, steady bird in a sky
Beyond my comprehension,
But which I housed
Within the limits of my belly.
You carry your own sky, your
Secret name, your secret song,
And you will let it fill your life.
Once, I, too, was like you
Child of the universe,
Brought into the day,
In the singing cradle
Of my mother’s womb.
I knew her voice
Before I was born,
Just as you knew mine,
My babe, nascent and waxing.
One day, when my particles
Loosen and separate,
And I fly into another sky,
I will leave behind mine
For you, for your dreams,
So that when you fly, we will
Meet, equal in mid-flight,
With a full, pregnant moon
Sailing on our wings.
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Tags: #Birthday, #ForMyDaughter, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram
Jan 7, 2018 Original Poetry
Snow-Milk
©January 7th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Snow lies thick on trees
Moonlight thickens into milk
Darkness treads lightly.
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Jan 7, 2018 Original Poetry
Love’s Where You Stand*
©January 7th, 2018
©January 7th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Out of the darkness
Out of the dust
Over the river
There came a voice:
Love whom you love
Do what you must
Live, be a Giver
Go make your choice.
Love with your life
Love with your deeds
Love when it’s hard,
With eyes open wide.
When your heart breaks,
Love without need
Pick up the shards,
Toss them aside.
Walk the dark road
That leads to one place
Walk it alone, go
With empty hands
And know this well:
Beyond time and space,
Beyond flesh and bone
Love’s where you stand
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(*Okay, so this is probably my least inspired poem, but still … I’m sticking with my muse.)