there's a girl behind me
wailing, falling to pieces,
and i'm too terrified
to even turn around.
I feel like an *******.

I turned off my music
to hear what she was saying.
she only screamed.

I looked around the bus and saw
that everyone was doing
as I was doing:
listening, but trying to look
as though we weren't listening.

we were all embarrassed
that someone was breaking down
and it was too real
for any of us to accept.

what's wrong?
what can I do to help you?
come for a walk with me.
let me hold you.

these are some of the things that
I was screaming inside my head,
but I
couldn't
even
turn
a-*******-round.

There is a softness in the air
a drowsy languidness
that asks for warmth and comfort
and a bowl of hot soup
nostalgia melts like butter
deliciously tempting
the scent rises
and masks any tinge of regret
as the wind caresses
and plays with my hair
it is as if time has slowed
and twisted itself
into a sleeping
figure of eight

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   01.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

secrets unravelling in kaleidoscopic visions
turn around and its something different
what was promised and what was given?
but the give and take
doesn’t really matter
as much as what you already had
at the point of inception
where it all began, your personal journey
what you’ve earned is just the return
on that initial investment
of who you are extended out on a limb
when you try and boil it down
to the essence of you
i wonder what you see

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  01.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

Along the palm fringed backwaters,
my  lonely canoe, in frenzy moves,
I roam with a pain deep down in heart,
not knowing which flower I seek,
lo! and behold, there she is,
throwing me a water-lily smile,
the dark dainty one, diving for clams,
who has never spoken to me a word.
Gleaming with the sun beads, adorning her,
when she glides up through water, from the mud bed,
I sit here , my oar gone still, mind a calm pool,
drinking her smile with both my eyes.
I will go back to my dark nights
where wild dances are my only refuge,
**this smile you spilled, a panacea for my ills
never would I give up, take my word.

dog day--
can't write,
cat took my pen

squirrels fill
cheeks with graveyard nuts--
a statue's hand

windows shutting down . . .
impatient feet pique
cat on summer screens

taking shots
in the forest -- reeling
from the impact

If you try looking out for the well-being of yourself
you're not looking out for the well-being of others.
                                                                ­                         
                                       If you're looking out for the well-being others,
                                       you're not looking out for the well-being yourself.