Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Posts Tagged ‘ Girl with SmartPhone ’

So I sat down with my guitar and wrote a song …

Jan 19, 2014 Essays: On Books, Art, Literary Appreciation and so on, Music

    … And I had no idea that I was going to write a song.  These words below flowed  easily, as I put some chords together, and the melody came with the words.
    You may not know this, Gentle Reader, but the last time I wrote a song was in the late 1990s.
    Perhaps this will stay, perhaps it might not, but I liked it today.  I plan to record a rudimentary version of it tonight on my MacBookPro’sPhotoBooth, so as to keep a record of it.  Whether I will post the recording or not, only time will tell.  Meanwhile, here it is, raw.  And no, nothing at all prompted this.  It’s just a story.
    _________________________________________________________

School-Girl with Smart-Phone
(OR: Perhaps it Doesn’t Really Matter)
©By Vijaya Sundaram
January 19th, 2014

The crystal face she peers into clouds right up.
Not a glimpse of clear sky,
Not a glimpse of hope.

She looks within, no messages pop right up.
No one to miss her,
No way to cope.

Should I stay or should I go?
Should I do my best to know?
Would it be the way for me,
To spread my wings, and to be truly free?

They don’t see her standing here alone so long.
They don’t see all her scars.
They cannot see her.

In the halls, as she walks by invisible,
People seem to stand so far,
They do not stir.

Should I stay or should I go?
Should I do my best to know?
Would it be the way for me,
To cut my wings, and then be so truly free?

Every empty canyon calls,
Every stretch of waterfall,
Every mountaintop so tall,
To each of these she starts to crawl.

Perhaps it doesn’t really matter.
Perhaps it doesn’t really matter.

A new sun will rise again
With me here or without.
Morning birds will fly again
With me here or without.

Trees will make their coat of green,
I will try to not be seen.

I will grow these roots and leaves,
And I will plant myself in earth.
I will find a face that’s undeceived,
And find it all to be of worth.

Perhaps it doesn’t really matter.
Perhaps it doesn’t really matter.
She turns to her phone
She turn to her phone
Call me.

___________________________ The End ________________________

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