Oct 11, 2019 Uncategorized
When snow falls gently down on silent trees
Which bend their heads and huddle in the cold
That’s when I contemplate humanity
And wish we could go back to days of old.
When seasons gave their wealth, and land its gifts
And people worked together with no thought
But that it might prove helpful to uplift
Not one, but all who toiled as one for aught.
We’ve lost our way, or so it seems to me
The winds and rains lash out at us, but now
Unlike the trees, and people from those times,
We bend alone, but oneness disavow.
The land will teach us what we need to learn.
Or else, we’ll lose the thing for which we yearn.
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Tags: #sonnet, Community, Losing our way, Native American
Apr 15, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Photograph of Vijaya Sundaram, ©Warren Senders, 1990
Split-Image
©April 15th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
And who might you be, who’s peering at me
As I lace my fingers through curtains three?
Your face is familiar, and rings a bell,
And your eyes follow me,– casting a spell.
I’ve walked very far to come to this place,
I’ve left things behind, I’ve been a disgrace.
I rejected the future and dumped my past,
And here I stand, in astonishment vast.
There once was a girl, and I am the same
Who came from Elsewhere, and who had no name.
She sloughed off her Selves, and grew a new skin,
And wearied of everything she’d ever been.
I am she whom you’ve known since time was new –
Now, in my mirror, you’ll see yourself true.
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Here’s the NaPoWriMo prompt for today:
And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Because today marks the halfway point in our 30-day sprint, today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates the idea of doubles. You could incorporate doubling into the form, for example, by writing a poem in couplets. Or you could make doubles the theme of the poem, by writing, for example, about mirrors or twins, or simply things that come in pairs. Or you could double your doublings by incorporating things-that-come-in-twos into both your subject and form. Happy writing!
Tags: #Couplets, #Double-Images, #Mirrors, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #sonnet
Apr 11, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry
Suddenly
(A Sonnet)
©April 11th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The water mirrors all the black and green
Of rocks (with rippled gold from sudden stone),
And trees, whose branches sway in singing wind,
As my dog and I walk in these woods, alone.
Our days were filled were bitter cold and dark
But clouds fill up with sun today and bloom
Like crocuses which, storing warmth, unfurl
Growing strong in gentle Gaia’s womb.
The wind is high, the trees all sing and sway,
A bird haunts me with lonely song up high,
A little snake goes sliding by, green-striped,
And ducks slice water in a pond nearby.
In solitude and company, I see
How suddenly all spring comes home to me.
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Submitted to NaPoWriMo 2016, in response to the Day 11 prompt:
And now for today’s (optional) prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. I think of the “surprise” ending to this James Wright Poem as a model for the effect I’m hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details. Happy writing!
Tags: #Day11ofNaPoWriMo, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #sonnet, #Spring
Apr 5, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Street
Street-Dream
©April 5th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Gliding through the streets ‘tween dusk and dawn
Sliding past your eyes; you look; they’re gone.
Shining through your gaze ‘tween noon and night
Finding eyes so glazed, it’s hard to think right.
He walks, she walks, and they walk all in line.
When seen by you, or them, they all decline
Your pity, charity, and silver dime –
What they want is some of your free time.
Do you have time to spare, O Brother mine?
Do you have time to spare O Mother mine?
Do you have time to spare, O Sister mine?
Do you have time, as I stand in this line?
The street is harsh, and full of hearts that beat
A clock that ticks and ticks, but no hands meet.
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Submitting simultaneously to The Daily Post and to NaPoWriMo.
Tags: #Dream, #sonnet, #Street, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost, #Time
Mar 9, 2016 Uncategorized
Shine On! (Sonnet for Childhood)
©March 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
See yon diamond kite, sweet child of the sky?
Come watch it trail its skeins of sun, and smile.
And see the air move round it in a dance –
You’ll soon, like me, fall straight into a trance.
The world moves fast around, and so do we,
Not knowing if we’re trapped, or if we’re free.
No matter what, if we but laugh in play,
All traps, and chains, and bars will fade away.
If I could find the golden key for you
And carve a doorway to a world that’s new
I’d make it full of light, and play and song
I’d walk in there; but you can fly along!
It’s in your eyes that I see childhood shine
And wish for you that it will not decline.
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Tags: #Childhood's Universe, #Nostalgia, #Original Poetry, #sonnet, Kite and sun
Oct 16, 2015 Original Poetry, Writing 201
Immortality, OR: Art Causes Pain and Pleasure
©October 16th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
It’s You of whom (sometimes) I think when I
See people work at art or song or verse
While making beauty with their minds, traverse
The lands invisible that touch the sky.
Your shadows lurk so menacingly stark
For ’tis a place of light and shade, this land
Where dreamers, poets, artists, singers band;
In vain, we seek our songs in brooding dark
We seek You, Immortality, and roam,
Our paintbrush, flute, guitar or pen in hand
And (vagabonds so far away from home),
We spread across these vast, uncharted lands
And hacking ‘cross the tangled brush, we come*
To You, whom now, at last, we understand.
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*Okay, so I took some liberty with the rhyme there, don’t razz me!
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Our Day 10 (FINAL DAY!)’s prompt was: Write a Sonnet, about pleasure, using Apostrophe as your device.
Our esteemed host and Muse @benhuberman had this parting gem:
If you happen to be one of those who find sonnets easy, have no fear — you can still challenge yourself further. How about going for a crown of sonnets? Or branching out to the sestina, another structurally difficult form?
I’ll have my readers know that this sonnet (my first, my first!), which took me TWO FULL hours exactly, I used a Petrachan sonnet form, with a couple of exceptions. So, instead of abba, abba, cd, cd, cd rhyme scheme, I used an abba, cddc, ed, ed, ed rhyme scheme. I also tried, desperately, to use iambic pentameter, reading it aloud to myself as it went, tweaking a word here, or rearranging some words there.
Note: There is another Petrarchan form is abba, abba, cde, cde, which I did not even want to attempt.
(Now, I shall go and lick my wounds, and sorrow over my terrible poem!)
Hats off to those who can do a “Crown” of Sonnets, and Sestinas, to boot! (I’m thinking of you, Melinda Kucsera!)
Anyway, I’m done.
And no, I’m NOT going to attempt a Sestina today. Too much else going on in my life, and writing a meaningful Sestina will take up more time, no doubt.
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Tags: #Immortality, #Pleasure, #sonnet, #Writing 201, Art, Artists, Final Day, Pain, Seekers, uncharted lands, vagabonds
Sep 23, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
No one said it better than Wordsworth. I will add nothing more to the poem below, except to say, Thank you, Mr. Wordsworth. This poem always, always resonated with me.
The World Is Too Much With Us
William Wordsworth
1770–1850
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn
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Tags: #Nature, #sonnet, artifice, Quotation, The World is Too Much With Us, William Wordsworth