Dec 18, 2015 Original Poetry
Fare for the Ferry
(Prompt: Farewell; Poetry, Day 10)©December 18th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
Goodbye, I said to the clock in the room
Goodbye, it whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the shadowy gloom,
Which said, “Oh, please come back to me.”
Goodbye, I said to the leaning tree
Goodbye, it whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the vanishing sea
It said, “Oh, you’ll come home to me.”
Goodbye, I said to my much-loved books
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the Time I took
The clock just smiled and ticked at me
Goodbye, I said to promises made
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the roles I played
But they dissolved in mystery
Goodbye, I said to the fish and the birds
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said, but nobody heard.
So, I cut the threads, and rose up, free.
And when I arose, and was borne aloft
I floated till the air grew soft,
Till it bloomed into streams and carried me
Where a boatman stood to ferry me.
But I had no coin, and I had no fare
I had to return, and descend the stairs
But I tripped and fell down athwart the skies
And now, I’m a dream behind your eyes.
And, now I sing, Farewell to all
The night is good, it hears my call.
Farewell, I sing, and go to sleep,
And I will weave you dreams to keep.
Just carve me a coin cut from the moon
I’ll give it to my boatman soon.
For I am weary and need my rest
I’ve loved this life, now comes the test.
No, do not weep, and do not moan
No, do not wail and do not groan.
It’s sleepy-time now for my soul
And time for me to be made whole.
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Tags: #Death, #Freedom, #Life, #Writing 101, Poetry, Boatman, Charon, Coin for the boatman, Day 10, Dreams, Farewell, goodbye, My 2nd Poem for Day 10, Rest
Jun 4, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and thanks to Douglas M. MacIlroy for this week’s photo prompt. Below is my 100-word story based on the prompt above.
Charon
©June 4th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Heartbroken, I stumbled down a snow-smothered mountain. Hope and love were dead. It was time to end it.
Below, the turbulent river drew me like a lover. On its desolate shore, a boat waited to take me into a land from which I could never return. The seated boatman’s keen blue gaze sliced the air.
Mutely, I sloped river-wards, impelled by fate, impaled on grief.
Somewhere, above my consciousness, three candles flickered beside a spoon, some furry-slippered feet, a conch-shell, and a jar of peanut butter.
Pausing, I said, “Let me be.”
***
Hmm … thought my writer. Should he die?
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Charon, Flash Fiction, Styx
Apr 7, 2014 Uncategorized
Exhortation
(OR Who the Hell Knows What This Is About?!)
©April 7, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Force the wo-
rds
Cor-
ral them, he-
rd them
Cro
wd them, ha-
rass them
Cow them into sub-
Put them on the boat
That awaits all words.
Yes!
(Poetry thrives on this –
The fear of silence.
Prose does, too.
Except that it has
So much more space,
So much more leeway.
So much wind blowing
Madly through chapters,
Stirring our consciences,
Making us stammer out
Confessions.)
And, like a silken thread
Running palely blue and gold
Between words and worlds,
Silence glows,
A Presence
Waiting to be glimpsed,
An Absence
For whom we yearn.
Death can wait.
Death knows how.
Death lies low
Waiting to spring
From the shadowy recesses,
Near where Charon waits.
And Life turns
Her head, as she flees
The Silence,
While the words
Become a ghost,
Wailing for her
Orpheus, us.
And all around us,
Roll her echoes,
As we climb, sobbing
Into the light.
Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, #Orpheus, Charon, Escape from Hades, Life and Death, Sound and Silence