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 The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Clarity
Clarity: Seeking You
©April 7th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
When things are clear, oh Lady, dear
It’s easy to advise
But when the storms are brewing,
I’d like to stay inside.
I know it doesn’t help to hide,
It doesn’t help to fight
it doesn’t help us do a thing
It doesn’t win us rights.
My mind is trapped, my feet are sore
My body’s feeling stuck
My head is clouded, and I feel
I’m rooted in a rut.
When things are clear, and clean, and nice,
And muddy depths stay put
I think of things I’ve not seen yet
And then I think of you.
I know you live somewhere
As far away from me
As I from you; we’ll never meet
– I see you in my dreams.
Your beauty’s past compare, and I
See wrinkles growing brighter
And when the sun catches your eyes,
I laugh in pure delight.
I see a mind that’s strong and pure
A mind that’s not bestirred
To think on this and that all day
Instead, you think of work.
I see a mind whose strength is as
The strength of hundred men
You never lost your faith in one
Who lives in us or them.
You brought the water from the pond
You birthed babies well
You made the food, and fetched the wood
And dreamed of naught at all.
I recalled you when, one day I
Stood looking skywards
I saw the moon smile down on me
And mirrored you, from far.
Wanderlust possessed me, and I
Yearned to leave this world
And wander, bare-footed and poor
I wished for things that were.
And if I find you, I would ask
If you would travel far
And if you shake your head, I’d say
“Let’s find each other’s Earth.”
My mind is clear with you right here
My memory is bright.
If anger clouds my vision, I shall
Place it in the light.
If sorrow clouds my vision, I shall
Stir the waters deep
Then, let things settle down before
I head right on to sleep.
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P.S. I began with just rhythm and meter in mind, but decided to let the half-rhymes and near-rhymes, then finally, a few real- rhymes emerge.
Tags: #Clarity, #Daily Prompt, #RamblingPoemWritten at 3:00 a.m., #TheDailyPost
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 7, 2016 NaPoWriMo, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post‘s Daily Prompt: Faraway
Faraway: A Mirrored Fib
©April 6th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
It’s
A
Distant
Faraway
Place, where I come from –
And that’s where I am headed to.
It doesn’t matter if I slip, or fall, or if I’m
Crushed, or hurt, or if I disappear into thin air
I’m still going there, yes, I am
For, along the way,
I shall find
My old,
True
Self.
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P.S. So, this is the first time I’m writing a “Fib Poem” – I’ve seen these cropping up everywhere on WP recently, and thought I’d give it a shot. However, just to make things a little more interesting, i thought I’d reverse the order after I reached 13 syllables (7th line), hence the “Mirrored Fib.”
Here’s some more information about Fib Poems, or poems based on the Fibonacci series.
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Submitting to The Daily Post, and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Faraway, #Fib Poem, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #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 5, 2016 NaPoWriMo, The Daily Post
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt for April 1st: Colorful
Colored Me
©April 5th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Color your world blue
Blue ice, blue eyes,
Blue mood, blue skies.
Color my world brown
Brown skin, brown hair
Brown earth, brown stare.
Color their world green
Green trees, green grass
Green youth, green lass.
Color our world red
Red blood, red flowers
Red hearts, red scars
Color our space gold
Gold sun, gold dunes,
A golden noon
Color my world black.
Black eyes, black skin
Back where you’ve been.
Hold my blue,
I’ll follow you.
Hold my brown
I shall not frown
Hold my green
(Of youth, I mean)
Hold my red,
I’ll not be led.
Hold my gold
To make you bold.
Hold my black,
Don’t hold me back.
Hold me thus
In all my modes;
In all my sorrow –
The dread it bodes.
In all my joy,
The boundaries break;
In all my peace,
It’s love I make.
In all my art
Live songs I sing
In all my worlds,
I rise on wings.
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Submitting this simultaneously to The Daily Post, and to NaPoWriMo
Tags: #Colorful, #Colors, #DailyPrompt, #ModesandMoods, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost