Oct 14, 2017 Original Poetry
Hope is a Dog
©October 14th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Hope is not “the thing with feathers
That perches in your soul.”
Nor is Hope a fluttering thing
At the bottom of a jar.
Hope is the forlorn Dog
Awaiting the return
Of those who’ve gone away
Into the vast Unknown.
Hope is the Waiting Dog
Whose only job is this:
Round up her family
And keep them safely home.
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Tags: #HopeisaDog, #Original Poem, #Original Poetry by Vijaya Sundaram
Dec 2, 2016 Uncategorized
Give to Life
©December 2nd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
It’s winter, and still
My stunted carrots struggle on
Clinging to life and rich earth.
A rose, white and wan
Wafts her gentle, cool perfume
While December frowns.
A single chilli
Holds on to a still-green plant
Promising a fight.
Burying her snout
In cold, wet soil, my dog breathes
Life into my life.
I cannot forget.
I cannot sit in the dark.
I must give to life.
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Tags: #GardenandLife, #haiku, #Original Poem
Apr 2, 2016 NaPoWriMo
My Family – A Non-Portrait
©April 2nd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
I do not really like to paint
My family’s pictures, thus to taint
With wordy portraits all that’s vast
And complex, which I hope will last.
Suffice to say that we are three
And thus, we form a Trinity
Of an earthly kind, it’s true
Of husband, child, and me; a glue
Of loving holds us all, so strong
With books and singing all day long
And walks in woods with dog in tow
With love for life and earth, we glow.
And for them both, this much I say.
I’m deeply grateful, every day.
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The (always optional, not compulsory) prompt for today’s NaPoWriMo poem was: Writing a poetic family portrait.
Tags: #FamilyPortrait, #Original Poem
Mar 27, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Footsteps
Footstepping Stone
©March27th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
I step on sand, and my footsteps fade.
I step on water; waves drift away.
I step on air; winds catch my feet
I step on clouds; rain drenches me.
My footsteps lead to strange new spots
I step on rocks, leap over streams
I slip on grass, and keep close watch
For snakes, and sudden ice, unseen.
I follow others, drift from them,
Step on their boot-tracks, turn to go left
Then turn around, head back to the right,
Then walk on down the road not seen.
I wish that I wouldn’t have to roam,
I wish that I didn’t walk alone, with
No thoughts to think, no angst to own,
No dreams to seek on the way back home.
For it’s not easy, and yet things are!
(It’s just more work for my brain and me!)
And a road not seen can always be
A road that can take our footsteps far.
And footsteps light on a road of stone
Will ring like a gong and sing of flight
And freedom’s song will ease the night
Till all my flesh falls off my bones.
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*Written at 2:34 a.m. Please excuse me if it makes no sense. 🙂
Tags: #DailyPrompt, #Footsteps, #Original Poem, #TheDailyPost
May 17, 2015 Original Poetry
Today in Song and Air
© May 16th, 2015
Vijaya Sundaram
Cheerful, tender birdsong fills the languid air.
I feel cheerful, tender and languid.
I do not feel like working.
I want to be a bird.
I want to be air.
I cannot wait,
For one day, I shall
Be air and spirit and song
And fire and sun and blinding light
And not even remotely made of flesh and bone.
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Tags: #Original Poem
Apr 24, 2014 Original Poetry
April Sun
©April 17th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Blueness crowds the sky.
Sun-gold from up high,
Shoots down streams of gold
And pierce the bitter cold.
Breaking into splinters,
Falling shards of winter,
Shatter round my feet
As I walk down the street.
Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poem, #Spring, April, The sun in April\, Warmth
Dec 9, 2013 Original Short Stories
Tags: #Couplets, #Original Poem, #Procrastination, chores, Ditty, panic, putting off, tasks, Work
Dec 9, 2013 Original Poetry
Tags: #Original Poem, existence, freefall, leaf in wind, random poetic exercise
Apr 27, 2013 Character Vignettes for Possible Novels, Original Poetry
Birthed / Breathed / Bridged
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 27th, 2013
The question always remains:
Am I truly their child?
They brought me into their home
Poured love into my being
Gave me roots to dig deep into
Gave me sunlight to grow in
Breathed life into my struggling lungs
Held me and loved me
Stood vigil by my bed
While I, asthma-racked and
In the grip of death,
Nearly toppled headlong
Into oblivion.
They pulled me back
From the brink,
And kissed me awake.
They are my parents.
I shall always love them.
And yet, and yet,
There’s a faint echo
Of that other mother
Of that other father
The ones who stand forever
In the shadows of my past
Who remain forever and always
Enigmatic and tongue-tied.
Whose profiles, half-turned from me
Reveal … indifference?
Disgust? Rage? Sorrow? Regret?
Was there love there, somewhere?
Or was I begotten in haste,
And mourned since?
I look yearningly into the shadows
See an emptiness in there
Bridged with a bridge of steel
And silk, which brought me
Safely into my parents’ arms.
Terror opens a chasm within me.
My breath fails me.
My pulse stumbles.
I cannot help it — I yearn
To topple into that gulf and
Seek the bottom of a grief
With no name.
I force myself to look up,
Ahead, not down, and see,
In wonder and understanding.
Across that gulf, beyond those dim profiles
I glimpse the outline of another one —
A Someone who beamed
Me into being, who breathed me out.
She held me across the span of Time
And tided me through the fjords
That might have stopped me
She wanted me to be.
She wanted me to be me.
And I am.
That bridge of steel and silk
Brought me safely to shore.
And my parents will stand guard
Right there, at that bridge
And they will deny that chasm
Its greedy need.
And they will spread a net
under the bridge
And they will fight the ogres
That dwell beneath.
And I want them to.
And though I shall always wonder
About the bottom of that chasm
And yearn for the shadow-parents
I will not yield to temptation.
For nothing is more tempting than
Grief and yearning,
And nothing more dangerous.
So, I shall step forth
With light step and light heart,
Knowing my bridge of silk and steel
Will remain for all time.
And I shall go forth to build
My own bridge, and stand guard there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Chasm, #Love, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poem, Adopted child, bridges and birth, character vignette, fiction, Fictional character, silk and steel, vigil, Yearning
Apr 9, 2013 Original Poetry
The Hunted
(My Third Poem-Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green)
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 9, 2013
In the beginning was the Bird
The Bird just was, and then the Word
Was spoken, and its calls were heard
And hate and war were soon bestirred.
Then, trains of death soon came and went
Those death-trains slew all innocents
The guards so cruel, so hell-bent
On uncovering with cold intent
The ones who hid, and who were hidden
And some they spared, and some they didn’t
And hunted by a word forbidden,
Their lives, by hate, quite overridden.
And in the end, lay the forlorn Bird,
Murdered by the hateful Word
And of their cries not one was heard
And in the ashes, no one stirred.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poem, Hunter and Hunted, Pigeon, Poem-Response