Apr 17, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Breath
Breathe!
© April 17th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Inspire me!
My vision fails, and
My limbs are weak.
And all I hear is
My dog barking.
I am hungry. I care
Only for food, and its
Atavistic satisfaction.
I wish to know how
To shape this day,
Stretch its sunshine
Into a perfectly folded
Sandwich, and eat it.
Respire deeply.
Meditate on your
Vision of a world
Without famine.
Go out, and gaze upon
The shy daffodils,
The narcissus and the
Hyacinth, now making bold
With the Spring-light,
And flaunting their young
Beauty in the amorous breeze.
Aspire to your other self –
Lying among the beaches of
The Milky Way, starry-eyed
You reach lazily for a cluster of
Constellations to nibble – ah
Just out of your reach!
Think not of unfinished work
(It will happen.)
Think not of goals you’ve
Misplaced or forgotten.
(Were they important?)
Think not of age creeping
Slyly up on you,
Stretching your cheeks,
Softening your chin,
Pulling at your eyelids.
Time is jealous of youth.
(Who cares?)
Do you see your other self?
See? She smiles, stretches
Her galactic hand to you.
(Go on, grasp it!)
Suspire deeply:
When you are flung back onto
This sun-flecked present,
While a chickadee and a finch
Take turns at the bird-feeder,
Grateful for food; suspire, and
Remember your hunger
Sigh at your vast satisfaction
When you taste bread.
When the tedious days
Pull at your limbs, as the sun
Moves drunkenly through
The blue-saturated sky,
Go upstairs, leg dragging after leg,
Fall on the bed in slow motion,
Snooze and dream a happy dream
Of rabbits in Spring.
Conspire with me now:
How do we arrest this day,
Weaving a gossamer net
Of sunshine and flowers
And bird-song and slow hours,
Pull her to shore,
And still live long?
Harness the Sun, tempt his horses
With apples and grass,
Then recline and dream away
This lovely day.
Alas, it transpires that I have
Tedious tasks, and so do you.
We cannot linger, we must go.
The birds can dream, and so too
The dog, who gazes out full of
Joy this beautiful Sunday.
And before I expire from the
Loveliness and the quietude,
I turn at the knock on
My door. The day beckons.
Go outside! Walk the dog!
Spirit, mine,
Be gentle. Breathe quietly.
Let this day be long.
Let me walk in peace
Among the tall trees.
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Tags: #Breath, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #SpringtimeFantasy, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 14, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Suitcase
Suitcase-Blood
©April 14th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Pack your suitcase (tattered, but good)
Sling your instrument over your shoulder,
Look around quietly,
Take the measure of things,
And say,
“Bye, then!”
And leave.
The road unfurls before you,
The horizon pearl-pink.
You spend your time
Forgetting your life,
As you walk down, then up that road,
Towards that pale, glimmering
Line between here and there.
And you forget all the way
Down the road to there.
Your suitcase, which held everything,
Starts slipping from your grasp.
When you trip beyond the horizon,
You let it fall open.
Everything spills on the road,
Everything you own, or held dear.
And that lute you held
So close to your heart
Falls from your grasp, too,
And lands, with a crack,
Then splits wide open,
Like a pomegranate, or a heart.
You gasp, and grasp a passing
Thought to keep from drowning,
And say, to the waiting air,
“Perhaps, I don’t want to leave,
After all.
This is my life, still.
It is good. It was good.
It was beautiful.
And so much music
Filled my days.”
And you stop there,
Stand and remember
All the things you forgot.
And your suitcase, still open
Bleeds upon the pavement.
And the lute is mute like a stone.
But you leave, silent and sore,
Without a backward glance.
Somewhere, you hear a string
Twanging.
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Submitting to both The Daily Post, and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Suitcase, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 11, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post, Uncategorized
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Newspaper
Newspaper Clippings – A Soup
©April 11th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Bring me some news
Some bad, some good!
And bring me a big pot.
If you would.
Fetch me some shears.
These won’t hurt.
Pour in some water,
Toss in some dirt,
Add plenty of bricks
Now, stir them well.
And here’s a trick.
To make things swell:
Some ghastly gossip
Celebrity quips
Political tracts
And racist acts
Some silly sports news
Education blues
Some weather reports
International courts
Some who bring glory
With amazing stories.
Some pandering to banks
The privilege of rank
Some comics for laughs
And some lifestyle gaffes.
Now snip them up
And clip them up
And toss them in
From a giant bin.
Then, boil them up
And stir them round
The scum will rise
The dregs will drown.
Strain them through
A cheesecloth blue
Now, taste the soup
And then, recoup.
For your job’s done
And you can rest.
For coffee, toast,
And books are best.
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Also, cross-posting it to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Clippings, #Newspaper, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Soup, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 10, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Misplaced
Misplaced – A (sort-of) Fairy Tale Poem
©April 1oth, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
She walked on to the cliff-edge sheer,
The slope to sea was steep.
She went to where the winds blew drear,
And fished in waters deep.
In waters deep she went to fish,
For she had lost her soul.
A witch told her, to get her wish,
She’d have to sing hers whole.
For long ago, she’d lost her heart
To a sailor lost at sea.
She wept, for they had grown apart –
They were not meant to be.
He’d toyed with her, and made her sick
With love that he’d well-feigned,
Then went away sans word, so quick,
She’d languished and felt stained.
Her soul had crumbled to a shell
And crawled away to sea.
Her body, to her, felt a hell –
She could not bear to be.
For all around her, people stared
And spoke in soft, quick tones,
For outcast she had been declared,
She was exiled, alone.
She fished by day, by night so blind,
She fished all summer long
Her soul was what she’d hoped to find –
She sang her lonely song.
She saw a strange new fish one day
With scales of silver-blue.
It sang her song, and bade her stay
To see her wish come true
So stay she did, and came one night,
By moonlight, she did glimpse
A shadow walk with step so light
From sea to shore, a nymph!
No nymph it was, but just her soul,
Which she had sought to find,
Come tripping over waves so cold,
And through her body twined.
She cried aloud in joy and pain
When united they did stand,
And then the waves pulled her again,
And soon they left the land.
Now, down within the ocean deep
There lives a strange new life
Resembling a girl who keeps
Her soul devoid of strife.
But when her memory is swirled
From ancient grief and pain,
The ocean comes to flood the world,
And hearts are torn again.
And those whose souls are oft misplaced
In those who break their trust
Are cast adrift, from life displaced,
Until they turn to dust.
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Submitting simultaneously to The Daily Post and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Displaced, #Heartbreak, #Loss, #Misplaced, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost, fairy tale
Apr 9, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Green
Green to Grey, to Gold to Day
©April 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
When I was young
And I was green
I wished to be
Both heard and seen
Now, I am older
Greyer, golder*
I’d rather see
And hear, and be.
When I was young
And I was green
I thought that life was
Not a dream.
Now I am old
And I am cold
For I’m just floating
Down a stream.
When I was young
And green of heart
I lived in songs
And books, apart.
Now, in my age
I wish to join
The wise, the sage
– I have my coin!
My coin in hand
I hold so tight
I’m full-prepared
To greet the night.
For when the night
I greet at last
Cold boatman, will you
Let me pass?
For I am old
And I am gold
My so-called green
Has never been.
When all is done,
Here comes the sun
And come the dawn,
I’ll be long gone.
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*Yes, yes, I know there’s no such word as golder, but I decided to bend the rules of the language.
Note: Also cross-posting this one to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Aging, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 8, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Superstition
Superstition
©April 8th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
If I gave you a rose with thorns
As a token of my love,
Would you say,
“This relationship will
Stagger and fail?”
Or, would you kiss me,
Accept it with love,
And say, “My love loves me
Thorns and all,
And sees my beauty thus!”?
If I stepped out into
A vast pit as I left my house,
Would I say, with sobs
Over my broken leg,
“This symbolizes my
Eternal Fall, I know it does!”
Then, fulfill my Fate
By obliging it? Or,
Would I say, “Someone,
Please, please help!”?
If I stepped under a ladder
And it fell with a crash
And snapped my neck,
Would I say, with fainting breath,
“I knew it! I knew it!
Never walk under
A goddamned ladder!”?
Or, would I, upon
Recovering
(Miraculously),
Say, “Do away
With all ladders!”?
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P.S. Alas, I had NO inspiration for this one, but I tried, I tried!
Also, the punctuation was problematic. I think I just invented a new type of punctuation. See if you can spot what the problem was.
Tags: #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Superstition, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
Apr 7, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
After reading Edward Hirsch‘s explanation of the Verbless Poem, I decided to try one, and combined it with The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt for today: Tricky
Twisted Vignettes – A Verbless Poem
©April 7th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Twisted, broken, aging oaken branch,
Shining drops of rain on arching trees,
Solitary girl in dripping dress,
Tricky, yes, but also broken-hearted,
Hood-hidden, her thirsting face, so pale.
Man so crafty, and so full of guile,
Undone at a glimpse of homeless child.
Such innocence beneath his grimy skin!
And heretofore empty, his aching heart,
Quite tearful, humbled, hurting, all absolved.
Hair so snarled and curled and hands so gnarled,
And eyes so guarded, full with deep intent,
Young and old, all full of fell purpose,
People all afloat in misty air.
Lips a-twisted – cruel, trickster world!
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Tags: #EdwardHirsch, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost, #VerblessPoem, #VignettesofTheReal
Apr 7, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Handwriting
Handwriting – A Lament
©April 7th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
My handwriting goes raggle-tag
And off the page, and in a rage
It stomps around, then takes a rest
(‘Tis time to leave the stage).
My handwriting is small and neat,
But then, quite suddenly
It rears and dances on two feet
(Capricious as a bear.)
If we were judged by one and all
For how we write, or wrote
I’d be the one who’s first to fall
(And sink, without a boat).
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Tags: #Handwriting, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #The Daily Prompt, #TheDailyPost
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
Apr 4, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Contrast
The Container and the Thing Contained – A Study in Contrasts
Yin and Yang
Feminine and Masculine
Night and stars
Water and earth
Chanting and Declaiming
Space and Starlight
Womb and Sperm
Creator and Creation
Love and Love.
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