vijayalakshmi-harish
Indian
Armchair philosopher. Intellectual spiritualist. "Masterchef" of my kitchen. Lover of Life. Writer. A Student of Life Forever. / / theprincessediaries.wordpress.com / / http://vijyalakshmiharish.tumblr.com/ / / theintellectualspritualist.wordpress.com / / http://www.qyuki.com/community/journey/Vijayalakshmi / / All poems posted here are my original works. / Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish, All Rights Reserved.
the clouds bloom
like mysterious flowers
seeming to survive by soaking up
the tears of the waiting multitude.
they churn the wind
causing it to blow through
my every cell
filtering through my every pore
as i abandon any hope
of maintaining some adult-like dignity
the puddles call
the rain falls
and i let myself go
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
10.07.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 8:05 AM UTC
death is laced with colours no eye can see
i saw it yesterday
resting on a twig
on a cold manhole cover
against which it looked so alive
-- it seemed to be comforted
brown wings pulled close, tips almost touching,
against the tiny white shell of its chest,
speckled with black
a tiny beak welcoming the chance to grab
at an interminable silence
--neither ugly nor morbid
but gently pretty,
the presence of death
affirming life.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
06.07.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
the stranger led me to the edge of the cliff.
he pushed me.
i flew.
i wonder how he knew
i would.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
03.07.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 6:47 AM UTC
today is one of those days
when i
come unstuck
at the seams of
where i am joined to myself
they split open with a
*pop*
*pop*
*pop*
and so there is
a hole nobody knows about
--not one that hurts
but one that is sure to sear
my dreams tonight
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
26.06.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:07 AM UTC
the light streaks
on my window
bamboo leaves brush
like manicured fingers
across its glass face
i feel so still
even in the midst of the
morning rush
that my senses pick up
but do not assimilate
simply looking at each new sensation
with some careless curiosity
then putting it away
as nothing
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
21.06.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
my dreams are
the texture of the earth
softened by the monsoon
a clairvoyant fragrance rises
from the green sprouts
pushing their way through-out
and through-in
my rain-coloured mental canvas
a cool drop snakes down
my ready spine
i’m dissolved
in the frissons that ensue
even as your warmth
embraces me
every numbing night
the winds detach the flowers
from every mourning tree
and i give you myself
as you rain on me
incessantly
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
13.06.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
you wrote me
within the lines on your palm
like a fragrance
held back too long
i hold this space
finding no cause for fear
in this unspoken emotion
that hangs between us
like a cozy muteness
our eyes
are two cliffs
pulled apart,
our stolen glances
daring to vault across
burn into my consciousness
the visions that you see
make me unburdened
of this cold i feel
and let me
join your flight
over the stars
or
repose with you
on the soft grass
read to me
and let me
sing you a lullaby
this is what life
should be all about.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
04.06.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
i do not wish that
no silence lies between us;
there must be those silences
interlaced with our deep breaths
as we meet.
but when our silences
cease to speak
when they have
told us all they can
--in the space of a heartbeat
or the entire span of creation
when they have exhausted themselves
then,
i shall want words
i would have them fall
not gently or slowly
but in great energetic torrents
electrified with our passions
for the words that pass
between us
are not the usual cacophony;
they are music
when words
yours and mine
crisscross.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
29.05.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
love came in many disguises
sometimes a name, sometimes a grace,
taking the mute pages out on a walk
absorbing the sun's rays
in a hope that some golden drop
may filter into my poetry.
but the words only vibrate
when you're near to feel their dance
--they care not for any other applause.
they seek only to reflect this phase
of our meetings silently held
under the mango tree.
of my hand attempting to leave
its mark upon your palm
its gentle heat melting
my core and yours
creating some new alloy.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
25.05.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
disenchanted with a day
overfed with sweetness.
the hoax of the flesh
the illusion of the intellect
punish .
even my own face in the mirror
appears as that of a stranger
my own thoughts
seem borrowed from
some memory of what this day
should feel like.
walking through photographs,
everything too pungent to the eye,
all i crave
is to be me again.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
24.05.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC