May 26, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post

Grains and Gains
©May 26th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

See her walking the watery fields
Picking grains of rice –
She searches for nourishing ones.

See him sitting on the fiery dunes
Picking grains of sand –
He searches for the shining ones.

May they find what they desire.
Amongst the waters, amidst fire.

There’s place for beauty
And shininess.
There’s place for food
For sustenance.
There’s place for idleness
And being quiet.
There’s place for work
And for moving.

Be at ease,
Be at peace.

Find your grains,
Make your gains.

Be very still,
Find what you will.

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Written in response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt for May 25th, 2016: Grain

Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Grain, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost

May 19, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post

Pen-Sieve
©May 19th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

Perfect blankness is my state
When I think about thinking,
And if I had a pensieve
Like Dumbledore,
I’d have nothing to add to it,
But thinking about not thinking
Is making me pensive.
I miss being blank,
And having thoughts
Sift through me, and out
Leaving only lumps.
Time to do something useful
Like laundry or dishes,
Or maybe brushing the dog,
So the thoughts will come
Bubbling up, and I don’t need
To feel the strain when I think,
And I’ll heft a thought easily.

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In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Pensive

Tags: #Daily Prompt, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Pensive, #TheDailyPost

May 19, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post

Wilt Thou Flourish?
©Mary 19th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

I wilt in Winter.
When darkness tautens
Around my neck
Like a noose of gloom,
In the dead of December,
I wilt, desolate, disconsolate.
Despair and sadness, twin tight
Bands, constrict my heart.
Everything seems pointless.
Then, I breathe deeply
Watch snowflakes fall like dreams
Observe their beauty, console myself,
Remind myself that Spring
Will come again, and I must sing.
Singing, I will herald her coming.

I sing of Spring as she approaches.
And watch tender leaves glow rich green
And ferns unroll themselves
Unwrapping themselves like gifts
And watch my crocuses and daffodils
And hyacinths and narcissus
And tulips poke out one by one,
Perfect but oh, so short-lived!
And lilacs like pale dreams haunt the air
And perfume it so sweetly, I could swoon
From the lust and lucency of it all.

When Summer flowers tease bees
Into drunken ecstasy, they weave
Unsteadily through the air, humming
Sipping at the rich moisture
Of my plants, when I water them
Thirsty and grateful they are,
So why would they ever sting?
Sunstruck and dizzy, I keep cool,
Sipping water with lemons,
And I sing with the bees.
And hum in Summer.

But when the year tilts away
From the sun, warming her back,
It is then that my garden yields her store –
Burgeoning beans and basil,
And peapods bursting at the seams,
And pumpkins and squash trailing downhill.
Tomatoes ripening like voluptuous women
And taut eggplants tantalizing me with glowing purple,
And tricky green peppers beckoning me closer
And roses blooming unashamedly
And sunflowers yearning towards the sun
And it is in the Fall that things flourish,
And it is then that I flourish.

A creature of the seasons,
An accidental human, I.
But from wilting to flourishing,
I follow the Earth, and time
Swallows its own tail,
And eternity repeats its mantra:
Wilt and die, and grow and flourish
Over, and over, and over again.

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In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Flourish

Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Flourish, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost

May 16, 2016 The Daily Post

What the Healthy!
©May 15th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

I am tired of all things healthy
All this narcissistic absorption
In one’s food, and one’s skin
And hair, and whatnot!
All this measuring of waist
And hip, and chest, such rot!

Bring me palak, rich and green
With chunks of fat paneer,
And rich, creamy malai kofta
With fat, puffy naans, soft
And lovingly formed by the pudgy
Hands of the Indian baker
Standing proudly, making bread
In full view of all who eat as if starving
Everyone shoveling food madly
Into chatter-filled mouths.

Not us, though.

Observe us at the Indian restaurant:
Silently, silently we eat, books before us,
Occasionally pausing to share
A word, a phrase, a passage.
Then, we plunge back into food –
Food rich in cream
Swimming in it, it seems,
Food filled with nuts and such,
And butter, and oil and much
That’s not good for us.  Hurrah!
How come we glow with health, and life?

(Okay, with wider girths, perhaps?)

Bring me nice, fatty gulab jamun
Yes, and ice-cream too!
Splash ginger syrup on it ,
Plenty of sliced almonds
Pears and peaches and pistachios,
Yes, and melted chocolate,
And coconut flakes!
Let’s tuck in unhealthily, shall we?

Good.  Feel waist expand
Let out a nice sigh.
A discreet burp.
Slug down some cool water.
Then, keel over.

Healthy is my middle name.

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Written in response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Healthy

Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Healthy, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost

May 11, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post

All photographs©Vijaya Sundaram, May 2016

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Generation

Beans to Be
©May 11th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

Yesterday, with the sun pouring
Streams of honey on fragrant flowers,
With the bees drunk with it all,
And the birds singing, their
Unfettered joy ringing in trees,
With the rain clouds hiding,
My daughter  and I planted beans
In earth rich with humus and manure
Which I’d worked over the
Previous sun-soaked day.

Small, and curved and tender,
Beans slipped into one-inch holes
From our gloved hands.
They lay there, vulnerable,
And we covered them over,
As I sang in my mind,
“Grow, little beans, grow!”
Tenderness filled me,
Such a strange emotion to feel
On that warm spring afternoon!

Named, staked, marked, and watered,
Our beans lie cradled in dark, tasty soil
Full of the green tug of growth,
Ready to bring forth new life.
Generations of beans, pale green
Resembling tiny to-be-beings
Promising food, lie waiting,
Waiting for their turn in the light
With no giant or Jack to break them,
As they await the hot days of summer.

While spring flowers bloom
And bees stagger in drunken stupor
And the dog goes mad with joy,
While I follow them into
Sweet, daydreaming delirium,
Sun-saturated and content,
No emotional surges, no loneliness
No angst or stabs of passion
No confusion or climaxes assail me,
When I think about our beans to be.

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Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Generation, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram

Apr 25, 2016 Original Poetry, sonnet

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Whisper

Whispers of Another Land
©April 25th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

To wave your oar at every ship that goes
Upon the waves on which you row your boat
Is foolishness, for all it does is show
The world around you that you are afloat.

The whispers of a land from far away
Are just the wake in which your vessel flies,
But now, distracted by the waves that play
You turn around with wheeling seabirds’ cries.

When whispers of another world are drowned
By shouts of glee and mirth that pass like mist
In mid-day sun before you run aground
You push your oar into the waves, resist!

When distant voices try to reel you in —
Come, let them pull you up above the din.

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P.S.  I seem to want to keep writing sonnets nowadays!

Tags: #Daily Prompt, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Post, #TheDailyPost, #Whisper

Apr 15, 2016 Ramblings and Musings, The Daily Post

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Snap

Snap – A COMPLETELY Uninspired Litany of Complaints (NOT a poem!)
©April 15th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

I don’t like it when people snap at me.

I dislike it more when I snap at them.

I don’t like to snap to attention.

I detest calling photographs “snaps.”

I don’t trust anything which is a “snap” to make.

I’m sad for those who are on SNAPs

I hate it when people say, “Oh, SNAP!”

I loathe card games, especially ones called “Snap.”

And I don’t tolerate snaps on clothing.

When someone says, “Snap out of it,”

I feel bad – and worse when I say it.

And when I snipe about snaps, I cannot stand it.

And now, I’m off to take a snap – sorry, nap!

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Tags: #A Litany of Complaints, #Daily Prompt, #Snap, #TheDailyPost

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 7, 2016 The Daily Post

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Clarity

Clarity:  Seeking You
©April 7th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

When things are clear, oh Lady, dear
It’s easy to advise
But when the storms are brewing,
I’d like to stay inside.

I know it doesn’t help to hide,
It doesn’t help to fight
it doesn’t help us do a thing
It doesn’t win us rights.

My mind is trapped, my feet are sore
My body’s feeling stuck
My head is clouded, and I feel
I’m rooted in a rut.

When things are clear, and clean, and nice,
And muddy depths stay put
I think of things I’ve not seen yet
And then I think of you.

I know you live somewhere
As far away from me
As I from you; we’ll never meet
– I see you in my dreams.

Your beauty’s past compare, and I
See  wrinkles growing brighter
And when the sun catches your eyes,
I laugh in pure delight.

I see a mind that’s strong and pure
A mind that’s not bestirred
To think on this and that all day
Instead, you think of work.

I see a mind whose strength is as
The strength of hundred men
You never lost your faith in one
Who lives in us or them.

You brought the water from the pond
You birthed babies well
You made the food, and fetched the wood
And dreamed of naught at all.

I recalled you when, one day I
Stood looking skywards
I saw the moon smile down on me
And mirrored you, from far.

Wanderlust possessed me, and I
Yearned to leave this world
And wander, bare-footed and poor
I wished for things that were.

And if I find you, I would ask
If you would travel far
And if you shake your head, I’d say
“Let’s find each other’s Earth.”

My mind is clear with you right here
My memory is bright.
If anger clouds my vision, I shall
Place it in the light.

If sorrow clouds my vision, I shall
Stir the waters deep
Then, let things settle down before
I head right on to sleep.

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P.S.   I began with just rhythm and meter in mind, but decided to let the half-rhymes and near-rhymes, then finally, a few real- rhymes emerge.

Tags: #Clarity, #Daily Prompt, #RamblingPoemWritten at 3:00 a.m., #TheDailyPost

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