Apr 26, 2014 Uncategorized
Spring and Rain, and Flowers and Dog
©April 26th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Rain erases with gentle
Pearly, indifferent mercy
All that ever was that died.
And with one wash, she
Brings forth life anew.
Daffodils nod along the paths,
Pink hyacinths and purple ones
Glow amidst a young green
Pushing from a pulsing earth.
Narcissus and Puschkinia
Bright, cheerful pansies,
Close to the earth, but undeterred
All beautiful, all simple —
No terrors, no hopes, no fears,
No egos, no sorrows, no losses,
No working for a living,
No guilt about idleness,
No chasing after dreams,
No saying “no” to things.
All saying “yes” to Life
— Even when it comes along
In canine form, sniffs, springs,
Laughs soundlessly, and
SNAP! A pansy is gone!
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Tags: #Dog, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, #Rain, #Spring, Flowers, pansy eating dog
Apr 25, 2014 Uncategorized
Catching Up
© April 22, 2014
By VijayaSundaram
It’s not the coffee in itself,
I hope you understand,
I’ve been sitting by myself
And there you are — it’s grand!
It’s the is-ness of it.
The here-ness of it
Not the business of it
Just the cheer-ness of it.
So, let’s have a coffee.
Oh, sometime, you say?
Would I make such an offer
If not for now, pray?
Let’s take the air outside
On these wooden chairs
Let’s watch people go by,
Stare back as they stare.
Let’s sip and sit, and talk awhile
Let’s chat of that and this
And reminisce in simple style
Catch up on things we’ve missed.
Oh yes, the world’s gone raving mad
Oh yes, there’s climate change
And yes, I do agree it’s bad
So very sad and strange!
And how’s your work and married life?
How is the neighborhood?
And how’s the fam. and how’s your wife
Did it all turn out good?
It did? That’s the best news by far!
And how ’bout you, you ask?
Oh, look, it that a red Jaguar?
(I quickly don my mask.)
————————————————————–
Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, Catching up, Old friends
Apr 24, 2014 Uncategorized
Handwritings
©April 17th 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
There was a time
When my friends’ rounded,
Precise, neat handwritings carried
A sunlit, sea-magic –
All of them.
There were pearls within,
Each word a pearl
Holding meaning, light
Glowing in them.
I loved their handwritings
Loved the slant or the straightness
The dark or the lightness
The pressure or its lack —
All of that.
Everything spelled beautifully
Thought laid bare,
A revelation of self,
All of it.
And I looked with pleasure
At words that flowed
Across ruled paper
And down the page
Erasing emptiness,
Lapping at the shores
Of silence, their ebb and flow,
Filled with music,
Rich with it.
All those
Careful, controlled
Pearl-handwritings.
Caught carefully in time
Strung together,
Making meaning –
It was all magic,
Pendant with it.
And all I wanted
Was to wade in,
Gather those pearls,
Crunch them up,
And eat them all,
All of them.
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Tags: #Handwriting, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, Eating words, Friendship, Words and pearls
Apr 24, 2014 Uncategorized
Listening
©April 15, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
After you’ve stood
And listened to silence,
Words seem like leaves
Eddies of leaves
Whirling in a flurry of wind
In an empty field.
And yet, it’s nice to stand
To watch and listen
To stand in quietude
In solitude, checking
The wind, sniffing the air,
Looking for signs
Of life in an attitude
Of quiet reverence.
I had thoughts once,
And dreams, and songs
And stories.
I had visions of the future
Of people and things
I wanted to meet, and do.
I had melodies flowing
Clear and bright through
Dark woods of uncleared
Thoughts, once, not long ago.
Yet, today, I am spent
Not sad, almost content
Dreaming dim dreams,
Hearing muffled songs,
Stopping any visions
Of what the future
Could hold.
It’s dangerous to dream.
Needs energy, nu?
Needs courage.
Needs strength
And endurance.
Today, I don’t have that.
Today, I just sit
And listen.
To listen is to pray,
To listen is to look deep
And give the gift of self.
To listen is to surrender,
To disarm oneself.
And so, I listen.
It’s the least I can do.
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Tags: #Contentment, #Listening, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, Dreams and Reality
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
Apr 7, 2014 Uncategorized
What it Means
©April 4th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
To be human
Is to be
Open to life
Open to newness
Open to love
Open to beauty
Open to building
Open to creation
Yet, it can sometimes be
Often so.
It can mean
Being pliant
Giving in
Suppressing need
Caring
Giving
Scattering of self
Nurturing at great cost. And always, it is
For it calls
For tearing down,
Destruction
Undoing
Till, at the end,
All that’s left
Is the kernel of
The original self.
And a whirlwind
Waiting in the wings.
And a field, far, far away
Waiting to receive it.
_____________________________________________________
Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, humanness, What it means to be human
Apr 7, 2014 Uncategorized
ROOTS
©April 4th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
I was in a fruitish mood today.
Brutish and fruitish.
But now, in the still afternoon,
I feel rootish too.
As in, I want potatoes
And carrots and beets
And turnips
And other rootish things.
I want to eat ROOTS!
Roots! The fundamentals,
The basic, the beginning
The origin, the start,
The building blocks.
From the roots, the shoots,
From the shoots, the leaves
From the leaves, the flowers,
From the flowers, the fruits,
From the fruits, the seeds,
And from the seeds,
The ROOTS!
That’s where I wish to be.
Buried deep in soil.
Warm, cozy, at ease with worms
Curled tightly against the cold
Protected from frost and
Protected from callous disregard.
If I were close to the earth,
I should not care
I would not worry
I would rest easy,
Knowing my turn will come.
But once you’re above-ground
You’re easy prey.
Birds, bees, moles, well,
Actually people, seek you out.
You put on a show of greenness
Of flowers and grace
You dance in the vagrant breeze
You give of yourself.
You bend to the will of others.
You forfeit yourself.
You scatter your seed
And you sleep.
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Tags: #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, Poem, roots
Feb 22, 2014 Uncategorized
Puppy
©2014, Vijaya Sundaram
(February 22nd, 2014)
A puppy tumbled into my world.
I am heavy with the weight of her,
Heavy with care, but light with love.
She trusts that we will do right by her
(And how could we not?).
It is a sacred trust, this trust
Of puppies and children.
The trust of dependence
And hope, of helpless love.
In her leaping and silliness,
I find joy and the quick of life.
In her quick eyes and mind,
I find delight and delirium.
In her delicate bones, and
Elegant face, I find pleasure.
In the cleaning and the holding,
The picking up and the cuddling,
In the sleeping and the feeding,
In the sluicing and the drying
Of this pup, simple satisfaction.
So, why am I unsatisfied today?
Foolishly, I think:
What about those other things?
Why not exist in the here, the now,
The growing circle of the
Universe of Dog?
Unselfish love. Selfish pleasure from it.
In unselfishness, I see
A glimpse of selfishness.
And I swim towards it, grasp at it,
Hoping to be saved.
_____________________________________________________
Tags: #Love, #Original Poetry, dog days, Puppy love, responsibility, selfishness and unselfishness
Feb 16, 2014 Uncategorized
Air and River – A Love Poem
©Vijaya Sundaram
February, 14th, 2014
I love you.
And without you,
The earth is breathless,
Atmosphere absent.
With you in it,
There’s air, and air currents,
And spaces to breathe,
And spaces to feel,
And wind blowing gently
Through my hair.
With you in it,
There’s a song in my life,
Like a river flowing
Through dark and sunlit woods,
A river bearing gifts in secret,
Building a shore, building life.
Sometimes, the air currents disturb,
Sometimes, I feel the wind blow me
Off my feet, bearing me aloft.
Sometimes, the river sings shrill,
Making me long to press my ears
To still that river-song.
Sometimes, I long to rip through
That atmosphere, plunge headlong
Into another space.
Sometimes, I yearn to plunge
Myself into that river, and
Float, unresisting.
But that way lies death.
Perhaps another life, too.
But I don’t wish it, no.
For I know, I shall
Always, always, want both these,
This air to breathe, this river of song,
This love,
My love.
_____________________________________________________________________
Tags: #Original Poetry, Air and River, For my husband, Love poem, Valentine's Day Poem
Feb 16, 2014 Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Reading, Writing, Thinking
Post-Sled Languor
©2014, Vijaya Sundaram
February 16th, 2014
On my back, near my child,
Who is intent on packing snow,
I feel the rush of the earth
On her axis,
A spinning ballerina
En pointe.
Snow quiets someone’s heartbeat
(Mine? My daughter’s? The earth’s?)
Traffic rushes by, while I
Lie, staring at a pale sky,
With its light flurry of clouds.
And across my field of vision
Blank as I am, quiet as I am,
(But not quiet like death, not quite).
Slices an arrow, shot from an
Unseen bow, bent on its
Unknown goal, and the sky divides.
Silver, the airplane shoots across,
And I watch, blank as snow,
As the earth spins.
A flurry of thoughts
Moves across my mind,
I think (how could I not?)
Of the bow from which I
Was shot, and the end to which
I am headed, unknowing,
(for how can the arrow know, completely?).
But even that thought dies away,
As I lie on my back,
In the snow, gazing blankly
At a pale, pale, darkening sky,
While near me, my daughter
Makes a snow-fort.
______________________________________________________
Tags: #Mother and Daughter, #Original Poetry, arrows, destinations, earth's axis, looking up at the sky, post-sledding, snow-fort