Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Daily-ness and Disaster

Daily-ness and Disaster
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 22nd, 2013

How banal, how mundane
How silly, how pointless
Our lives seem!

Sitting in class, pencils in hand
Trying to be good, while
The teacher gazes on.

Stern she looks, and somber
Trying to be vigilant
Wasting time on gum-chewers
And time-wasters.

When elsewhere, lives end
Abruptly, pointlessly.
Grief and loss bloom
Like a mushroom cloud

Over a teeming populace
Wiped out by violence,
Riven by famine and flood.

And children torn from the arms of love,
Watch as parents are afloat on a sea
Of uncertainty.

Where food comes from
Hardly matters, when
They worry about whether
It comes, at all.

Whether school is up and running
Seems to matter so little, and yet
Someone is shot at brutally,
Risking her all, to reach school.

Elsewhere, in the city, last week
A child of eight died, in mid-cheer
Abruptly, pointlessly, painfully.
A shining being, ready for greatness.

And here, in the humming peace
The strumming quiet
The numbing apathy of daily life
We sit, pretending what we do matters.

It may all seem pointless now,
In the aftermath of recent tragedy.
And I might be right.

But I’d like to be hopeful
I’d like to say it matters
I’d like to say, “Everything,
But everything matters.”

Writing matters, reading matters,
Being hopeful matters, being good
Matters a whole lot.

And I would be right.

~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercy-Crumbs – Fourth Poem-Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green

Mercy-Crumbs

[Fourth Poem-Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green]

©By Vijaya Sundaram

April 9, 2013

Pigeon on the platform
Man on the train.
Sometimes, crumbs of mercy
Give life again.

Small pigeon at his human feet
His crumbs of mercy for the bird
A man, at gunpoint with the guards
A woman gives hope with a word

Each little crumb feeds living souls
Each little crumb gives back to life
Each little crumb furthers a goal
Each little crumb reduces strife.

A simple act, a simple deed
So easy, yet so very hard
For those who do not choose to feel.
And only some dare take that chance.

A simple act saved this man’s life
So simple, yet so very strong
Her kindness was that upon which
His life hinged; she set right that wrong.

The man saw her, and said no word
His thanked her with his eyes so mute
And filled with something that was stirred
Within, and rich with gratitude.

Pigeon on the platform
Man on the train.
Sometimes, crumbs of mercy
Give life again.

“Shema Yisrael” – Poem + Blog Post

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3o8jL1BXMdk]

Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green

©Vijaya Sundaram

April 9th, 2013

[The above YouTube video shows the film “Pigeon” by Anthony Green.  This was the prompt I put up today on my “smartboard” in class (we have been studying books set in the Nazi-Holocaust period for the past few weeks).  Students watched this 11-minute film and then we had a discussion about the significance of the different acts of kindness or unkindness in the film.  We also discussed the symbolism in all the visuals (I don’t want to go all school-teacherish on you here), as well as the arresting imagery, acting and directing.

This was followed by a writing assignment.  Students had to write a poem-response to this film, telling the story itself, or using the larger symbolism to zoom in on what moved them.  They were deeply affected by the film, and the poems they came up with were beautiful.

I told them that I, too, would write while they wrote.  So, I managed to write in four out of five of my class periods today.]  Here is the first of the four poems I wrote (unedited, sorry, no time to tweak things.  Will do that later):

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shema Yisrael

Response poem to the film “Pigeon”

©Vijaya Sundaram

April 9th, 2013

 

Shema Yisrael

Stranded on the island

I await my deliverance

 

Shema Yisrael

Pigeon at my feet

Crumbs for its survival

 

Shema Yisrael

I have lost all, lost all

My papers, my self, my life.

 

Shema Yisrael

I try and sidestep my fate

Waiting is my wasteland

 

Shema Yisrael

Here are guards, inexorable as death

I die by degrees, in a sweat of fear

 

Shema Yisrael

Angel in human form sees

My loss, transforms into demoness

 

Shema Yisrael

I had a wife, and now a new one,

Who beats me about the shoulders.

 

Shema Yisrael

Guards aim death at her, “Papers!”

She mocks me, her “husband.”

 

Shema Yisrael

They laugh at us, mock me; they see she

“Wears the pants,” and then they leave.

 

Shema Yisrael

Bless this angel of mercy, this wife

Who delivered me from death, from hell

 

Shema Yisrael

May her act not go unnoticed

May she find a place among the angels.

 

Shema Yisrael

May the pigeons and doves among us

Find their saviors, may they fly in peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Eḥad

(Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One)

Disclaimer:  I am not a Jewish person, nor a believer of any sort.  However, I believe deeply in the power of prayer to steady ourselves, when we’re cast afloat, rudderless, on an open sea.  It’s a centering mechanism.  It’s good.  It can only calm us, not hurt us.

Teacher: A Glimpse As I Passed By

Teacher: A Glimpse As I Passed By
(For Val)
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 4, 2013

Almost in the abyss,
A young boy howls in
Soul-agony, a torment
That he cannot understand.
He sobs, beast-desolate
In the hallway, uncluttered
By others.  

I approach,
And see this:
Kindly teacher,
Clad in blue
Pats him gently,
Inexpressibly kind.

“It’ll be all right.
You’ll be fine.”
Her voice like soothing
Balm in Gilead,
Pours solace on his
Strange, wounded mind.
(For he is undeniably
Different from the others.)

Her goodness, a candle
Steady in his darkness,
Completely undoes him.
I walk by, heading elsewhere,
And try not to intrude.

He howls louder,
Lurches against her.
She hugs him with such love —
A well-spring
Of love, she is
An angel of beauty
An angel of warmth
Goodness glowing golden,
Like an energy-field
Around her.

All the comfort he needs
He finds right here,
In her enveloping frame
All the goodness nestled
In the encircling warmth
Of her motherly embrace.

And no matter what this child
Suffered today, whatever else
Torments, grips and twists
His grief-stricken heart,
He will remember this:

When he was most
Desolate and undone,
When he was most
Alone and abyssal,
There was someone.

And she leaned
Over the abyss
Plucked him up,
And brought him back
From the brink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~