Apr 5, 2013 Uncategorized
The Feather Drifted Down
©A poem by Vijaya Sundaram, June 3, 2011
Stillness. The feather drifted down.
Silently, the feather drifted.
Drifting down, without a sound
It caught my eye, held it captive.
Drifting, it caused me to suspend
All thought, emotion, sensation,
All space was there for it to bend
Into white swirls, interactive
With the air. My eyes tracking it,
The feather twirled, drifted and danced.
Grace, in space, while I, lacking it
Stayed put, all silent and in thrall.
This is what it all boils down to:
A single feather floating down
Life and death and toil come round to
A few moments spent in free fall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Life, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, #Space, dance, Feather, Free Fall, grace, Toil
Mar 29, 2013 Uncategorized
Day-Night-Quiet — Pune, India
©By Vijaya Sundaram
Written in India, on Friday, July 16, 2010
And the hills coming closer
Closer, closer
Marching towards the buildings
Being built
And the sky reaching
Towards the claustrophobic
To pluck them, gasping, into open space,
And the slim bais walking along the road
Not yet bent by hard work
In the houses of the rich,
The not-so-rich, and the toilers,
Walking proud, strong, upright
Knowing it is they
Who keep the dust at bay.
And the blood streaming
Through my arteries,
Through veins, dreaming
Along the shores
Of my being, reminds me
Of all that goes on, while all
This toil proceeds in the world
Around the edges of my skin.
And the crickets chirping
And the dogs yelping
And the buses hooting
And the rickshaws snorting
And the trucks squawking
And the light bulb humming
And the baby crying
In the flat below,
And my neurons abuzz
With mindless chatter
Non-stop chatter, flitting
From this to that, from thought
To feeling, from shapeless notion
To an idea taking form,
Taking up all my mindspace
And my mind craving quiet.
And quietness presses in
Opens her petals,
And the buzzing comes to
A dreaming halt
Drinking in the nectar
Of sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Original Poetry, City Sights, City Sounds, India, Night Sounds, Pune, Sleep
Mar 27, 2013 Uncategorized
Ire
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 27th, 2013
Felt the pulsing glow
Of the rich, quick flow
Of blood to my ears.
But Anger, I fear,
Cannot win the day
So, I turn away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Original Poetry, Conquering anger, Ire
Mar 22, 2013 Uncategorized
Grail – A Poem
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 22, 2013
I spend my days in
Walking,
Not winging.
Yearning,
Not learning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You spend your days in
Talking,
Not singing.
Weeping
Not leaping.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We spend our days in
Clocking time
Stinging,
Sneering,
Not spurring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They spend their days in
Mocking,
Mud-flinging.
Jeering,
Not cheering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And we seek, and we yearn
And we weep and we burn
And in circles we will turn
While we earn, earn, earn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just sing, don’t speak.
Just learn, don’t yearn.
Don’t sorrow for tomorrow.
Don’t weep, just sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don’t mock, just cheer.
Just listen till you hear
For I’ll whisper in your ears
And I’ll wash away your tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Throw your hat in the air
Throw your scarf to the skies
Toss your bag to the ground
Toss your pride with your lies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Throw your dreams away
Let them fall where they may.
Let them laugh while you play.
In the new-born day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here’s a puzzle and a knot,
The more you seek you’ll fail.
And if you use, and lose it not,
You’ll reach your holy grail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Hope, #Original Poetry, #Sing, better tomorrow, Seek
Mar 21, 2013 Uncategorized
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legion, One – A Poem
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 21, 2013
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How important
How very important
You believe you are, human!
You strut around, chest puffed out,
Dying by degrees, thinking this is life.
You reject and mock
Your neighbor or colleague
With a single statement.
With a curl of the lip,
Your sneer at and spurn your neighbor,
Your teacher, friend, stranger.
With the dismissive gesture,
You dash to the ground
All that your mother, your sister
Gave to you.
With the merest word, you crush
The memory of all
Your brother, or your father
Are to you.
Fattening on hate and fear,
Not knowing, not caring,
Not seeing that it is you.
It is you, you, dear one
Whom you crush underfoot,
Sneer at, mock, reject.
Fearing, dismissing, crushing,
You don’t see the faces
Of those you spurn.
And all the while, you yearn
To be understood, crooned to,
Cradled, sheltered, loved,
Healed, nursed back to yourself.
And all the while, you yearn
For that dream-world, asking
How come and wherefore
Has it not arrived, yet?
Stop! Stop! Stop!
I tell you!
Stop hating.
Stop fearing.
Stop envying.
Stop feeling less.
Start feeling more.
Feel more for
Your neighbor,
Your colleague,
Your friend, sister, brother
Father, teacher, mother.
Feel the same pain
We were born into.
Feel the same sorrow
We face every day.
Feel the despair
That lies, curled
At the very base
Of everyone’s souls.
And walk softly.
Tread softly, dear one.
Tread lightly, for it is
Your face that you tread
Upon, your face you seek
To obliterate.
And it is when you raise
Up your sister, brother, mother
Father, teacher, friend,
Neighbor, colleague, stranger,
Bathe their faces,
Wash their wounds,
Offer them kindness,
Marvel at their unique
Ineffable beauty, their grace,
And their anguished suffering,
It is then that you shall be free.
Know this,
For we are all legion.
But we are all one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Death, #Love, #Original Poetry, Despair, Eternity, Legion, Neighbor, Raise Up, We are all One, Words and Silence
Mar 19, 2013 Uncategorized
A Winged Race– A Poem
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 19th, 2013
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And she will walk tall
An Athena, an Aphrodite,
An Artemis, a Hestia.
Above all, she will be Gaia.
And she will smile
In all her wisdom, for
She will be the bringer
The herald of the morrow
Sans sorrow, sans dread.
With compassion and passion,
She will unfold the mystery
The beauty, the burgeoning
Of life, tender and tragic,
Full of magic and love.
And he, in turn will arise
Reach for her, steady himself
And walk tall beside her.
And he will be an Unnamed One,
For that is what we need.
And he will be there
Alongside her, respect
In his eyes and heart,
And love will bear root there.
And what is love,
If there be not respect?
And what is respect,
If there be not passion?
And what is passion,
If there be not compassion?
And what is compassion,
If there be not acceptance?
And what are all these,
If there be not two beings
Building together, living
Learning, loving, glowing,
Growing together?
*And new women will arise
And walk, hand in love with women.
And new men will straighten
And walk hand in love with men.*
And they will all be as earth and water,
Tree and soil, air and vapor,
And they will rebuild upon the
Dead and desiccated lands.
And a new race of winged creatures
Will arise and take flight.
And life will rejoice, for it will
Not all have been in vain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
P.S. I realized that the poem sounded rather Christian (rather like an ode to Adam and Eve, which was totally NOT my intention), so I added that asterisked stanza. I am not Christian. I am a Hindu by upbringing, and a spiritual atheist. I believe in equality between women and men. I believe in gay marriage. I believe in the right of all people to emotionally and physically love whomever they choose, as long the expression of this love is between consenting adults.
I am against violence of any kind, be it directed at women or men.
Tags: #Original Poetry, Celebrating LGBT, Celebrating Women, Equality, New Beginnings, Woman Power
Feb 19, 2013 Uncategorized
Raccoon-Night — A poem
© By Vijaya Sundaram
May 11, 2012
Whiskers a-quiver,
Tail aloft
Bright little raccoon,
Sharply soft.
Your paws hold fruit
Your eyes the night
Your secret hides
In shadowed light.
I gaze at you
You stand so still,
And gaze right back
And eat your fill.
What cheer, what cheer, you bright young thief?
What joys, what pains, what songs, what strife?
What shapes your raccoonish beliefs
Through this, your secret, night-time life?
I wish to join you, little thing,
And slip out through that magic door,
Stay up all night, pick songs to sing
Songs we’ve never sung before.
And as I see your tail aloft,
I see how midnight makes things soft
The dark leans close, your eyes shine bright
I stay with you, in hushed moonlight
Sleep comes to knock; I turn back, sad
To say goodbye, see you no more.
But when I drift, my smile is glad;
I’ll still slip through that magic door!
Tags: #Original Poetry, animal poem, raccoons
Feb 18, 2013 Uncategorized
Event Horizon -- A Poem © By Vijaya Sundaram April 27th, 2012
Forever circling, forever spinning
Closer and closer to the core
Seemingly for an eternity, like a golf ball
Into a vortex built for it in a Children’s Museum,
I dance towards the center.
I know the wider circles will narrow
Into an infinitesimally
Small one, and finally
I will drop into that other world
That other universe waiting for me,
The shadow world
Of visions unseen, and nightmares unimagined.
Is it down, though?
Or is it just beyond?
Time stretches into the far reaches
Of space, condenses into a black hole.
And I circle, circle, circle
Well past the event horizon,
And no light escapes.
This is what my life seems here,
Spinning, plunging forward towards the core,
Always spinning, spinning, spinning.
I watch myself from the other side,
The far side of the event horizon.
And I appear to shift and slow down.
Within, I continue just as I always did.
Without, old age chains my ankles, and I feel so slow,
Within, I speed up, a child heedlessly
Racing towards non-being.
Without, I send out cries of light to that other side, where
My old self watches, helpless, while I pitch headlong towards,
But never quite reaching, that heart of death.
My cries do not pass through.
I move in opposite directions,
Watch from two places: One towards,
And one away from that final plunge.
Eventually, I know I’ll circle, and tumble into
A world beyond that pinpoint of darkness.
Will it all be flat there?
No concentric circles, no Schwarzchild radius
To grab at my ankles?
Or will it always be circles
Within circles, within circles,
Within which the spinning top
Of selfhood disintegrates into atoms
Torn apart by invisible hands?
And as I dance inexorably towards this question,
I see something new
Forming out of that dense, closely-pressed space:
Light radiates from the particles,
Re-forms from those atoms
Into another being, frees itself
From ankle-chains, and escapes.
Tags: #Death, #Original Poetry, #Rebirth, Black Hole, Event Horizon, Red Shift, Schwarzchild Radius