Apr 13, 2016 Light verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post, Uncategorized
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Giggle
Giggle
©April 13th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
I do not giggle any more.
It causes me some pain
For I have graduated from
Teenagerhood to Brain.
To keep a brain, we all agree
We cannot laugh and titter
We have to hold our breath and moan
In sotto voces bitter.
Giggling’s for the younger set
For those who live their lives
Without a hint of future stress
Without a hint of strife.
But when my back is turned, I find
I snicker and I sneeze,
And then, to my amazement
I giggle, if you please!
I catch myself, and look askance
At giggles which escape
And scold them as they leave my throat
And then, I stand and gape.
Before me stands a jester pied
All dressed in motley clothes
And solemnly he bows to me
And then, around me, flows
He flows like water, and like wind
He smiles and takes my hand,
And dances with me laughingly,
And then, I understand.
We laugh aloud in midnight mirth
We chuckle all night long,
And soon, before the break of day
My giggles become songs.
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Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Giggle, #LightVerse, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
Apr 13, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Fantasy-Fortune Cookie – Poetry
©April 13th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
What’s that you say?
You will find happiness one day?
If you build castles in the air
You will float away.
Never fear the unknown
Even if it bites you in the rear.
You will break your leg.
Step carefully,
Avoid pitfalls.
In a world of haste,
Run quickly, catch the bus.
Leave behind the past.
In each of us
Lives a butterfly
Ready for flight.
Catch that butterfly
Make a net.
Learn to swim.
Today, you will learn how to
Pronounce the Chinese word
For fish. Yes, you! Yu!
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Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt:
And now for today’s (optional) prompt! The number 13 is often considered unlucky, so today I’d like to challenge you to beat the bad luck away with a poem inspired by fortune cookies. You could write a poem made up entirely of statements that predict the future (“You will meet a handsome stranger”), aphoristic statements (“The secret to getting ahead is getting started)” or just silly questions (“How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?”) Or you could use a phrase you’ve actually received in a real fortune cookie as a title or first line. However you proceed, I hope you will feel fortunate in the results (do you get it? Do you get it? Rimshot, please). Happy writing!
Apr 13, 2016 Light verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Bedtime
Bedtime (a silly poem)
©April 13 (really, the night of the 12th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
If only I had one!
When all is said and done,
It’s in the land of sleep
We plunge in waters deep.
I find the night a lure –
For this there is no cure.
I like to count the hours
In poems or in stars.
I drink some tea and stare
At nothing, everywhere.
I’ve only gotten worse.
What, bedtime? It’s a curse!
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Tags: #Bedtime, #DailyPrompt, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
Apr 13, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Found Lines and Imagined Ones – An Index Poem
©April 13 (late night of April 12th), 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Resolved:
to be irresolute (a state absolute)
to live like a fool (and be a tool)
to take Fate by the throat (and float)
to the skies, aspire on wings of fire.
What:
is the night (but for dreaming)?
is truth, said jesting Pilate (falsely beaming)?
gods may be (eyes streaming)
Demons might fear (dimly-dreaming)
What’s:
done is done (not fun)
past and what’s to come (for everyone)
past is prologue (what’s to be done)
your answer? (None!)
Where :
have all the flowers gone (far away)
we are is hell (whatever you say).
shall I fly? (For, I cannot play)
shall I go? (I cannot stay!)
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In response to NaPoWriMo Day 12 prompt:
Apr 11, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Suddenly
(A Sonnet)
©April 11th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The water mirrors all the black and green
Of rocks (with rippled gold from sudden stone),
And trees, whose branches sway in singing wind,
As my dog and I walk in these woods, alone.
Our days were filled were bitter cold and dark
But clouds fill up with sun today and bloom
Like crocuses which, storing warmth, unfurl
Growing strong in gentle Gaia’s womb.
The wind is high, the trees all sing and sway,
A bird haunts me with lonely song up high,
A little snake goes sliding by, green-striped,
And ducks slice water in a pond nearby.
In solitude and company, I see
How suddenly all spring comes home to me.
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Submitted to NaPoWriMo 2016, in response to the Day 11 prompt:
And now for today’s (optional) prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. I think of the “surprise” ending to this James Wright Poem as a model for the effect I’m hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details. Happy writing!
Tags: #Day11ofNaPoWriMo, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #sonnet, #Spring
Apr 11, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post, Uncategorized
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Newspaper
Newspaper Clippings – A Soup
©April 11th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Bring me some news
Some bad, some good!
And bring me a big pot.
If you would.
Fetch me some shears.
These won’t hurt.
Pour in some water,
Toss in some dirt,
Add plenty of bricks
Now, stir them well.
And here’s a trick.
To make things swell:
Some ghastly gossip
Celebrity quips
Political tracts
And racist acts
Some silly sports news
Education blues
Some weather reports
International courts
Some who bring glory
With amazing stories.
Some pandering to banks
The privilege of rank
Some comics for laughs
And some lifestyle gaffes.
Now snip them up
And clip them up
And toss them in
From a giant bin.
Then, boil them up
And stir them round
The scum will rise
The dregs will drown.
Strain them through
A cheesecloth blue
Now, taste the soup
And then, recoup.
For your job’s done
And you can rest.
For coffee, toast,
And books are best.
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Also, cross-posting it to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Clippings, #Newspaper, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Soup, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
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 10, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Misplaced
Misplaced – A (sort-of) Fairy Tale Poem
©April 1oth, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
She walked on to the cliff-edge sheer,
The slope to sea was steep.
She went to where the winds blew drear,
And fished in waters deep.
In waters deep she went to fish,
For she had lost her soul.
A witch told her, to get her wish,
She’d have to sing hers whole.
For long ago, she’d lost her heart
To a sailor lost at sea.
She wept, for they had grown apart –
They were not meant to be.
He’d toyed with her, and made her sick
With love that he’d well-feigned,
Then went away sans word, so quick,
She’d languished and felt stained.
Her soul had crumbled to a shell
And crawled away to sea.
Her body, to her, felt a hell –
She could not bear to be.
For all around her, people stared
And spoke in soft, quick tones,
For outcast she had been declared,
She was exiled, alone.
She fished by day, by night so blind,
She fished all summer long
Her soul was what she’d hoped to find –
She sang her lonely song.
She saw a strange new fish one day
With scales of silver-blue.
It sang her song, and bade her stay
To see her wish come true
So stay she did, and came one night,
By moonlight, she did glimpse
A shadow walk with step so light
From sea to shore, a nymph!
No nymph it was, but just her soul,
Which she had sought to find,
Come tripping over waves so cold,
And through her body twined.
She cried aloud in joy and pain
When united they did stand,
And then the waves pulled her again,
And soon they left the land.
Now, down within the ocean deep
There lives a strange new life
Resembling a girl who keeps
Her soul devoid of strife.
But when her memory is swirled
From ancient grief and pain,
The ocean comes to flood the world,
And hearts are torn again.
And those whose souls are oft misplaced
In those who break their trust
Are cast adrift, from life displaced,
Until they turn to dust.
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Submitting simultaneously to The Daily Post and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Displaced, #Heartbreak, #Loss, #Misplaced, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost, fairy tale
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