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1.
He lights another mortar
and the dog runs after it
barking and trying to bite it
he grabs it's back leg as the sky lights up
since he had barely thought to look over
and the words around here don't reach his mind
his ears defective as they are.
He says something with his hands
something foreign to me
but six people watching laugh
and so do I.


2.
His wife sits with her sons
her stomach wide with their third
another boy
she's gotten so used to talking with her hands
that her voice is rusty
and her vocabulary limited
but she's here as much as the rest
sitting and laughing and having a good time.


3.
The owner of the house sits off the side in the nicest lawn chair here
a cup in her hand
we've quit counting how many drinks she's had
but she only drinks a couple days a year
and nobody is giving her any problems
and she seems to be able to be her normal self.
She had been questioning me earlier today
seeing if I was really a good guy
testing whether she'd have to sit at the table with a shotgun
every time I spent any time with her niece.


4.
Her husband is launching his own collection of mortars off
with his brother
while her brother-in-law hands the teens the novelties
I launch off a dozen flowers
and a few spinny things.
She occasionally breaks her fingers away from mine
to launch off a flower, smokebomb or firecracker
and occasionally runs over to poke-chop her uncle
who keeps talking to the fireworks.
She always comes back and we'll wander by her mom and stepdad
(the latter always throws in some sort of comment
so we act careful around him)
and over to her cousins
or toward her aunt and roommate.
Occasionally we'll have to get something from the house
and we sneak three kisses
but we mostly just stay in each others arms
keeping each other warm in the almost warm 4th of July night
our hands both entwined
one of our heads always on the others shoulder
and in all the craziness
all the family drama
everything is perfect and she's smiling so hard her cheeks keep hurting
and she keeps telling me how little sleep she's gonna get
and I tell her I ain't gonna be able to sleep at all
An artful liar, his words beautifully cheat all,
speaks nonsense any one can believe
with  consummate flair, sees the essence without effort,
it fits well in metaphors and imageries galore,
he has wings to fly anywhere with ease, see things up close.
The  wind of imagination he blows makes waves,
he is taken to  ecstatic heights riding on  its crest,
yet he doesn't accept, when they call him a poet,
"Just at those moments I am inspired" he says"call me a poet,
not all the time I am one, being a poet is not a profession
but an attribute others bestow on one, out of appreciation"
 Jul 2013 Meenakshi Iyer
Marian
Come with me and daydream
Beside the stillness of the creek
Dream the hours away
For time is infinite here
Come with me and rest
In a field of daisies and wild
Cotton blossoms
That sweetly dance in the wind
Come with me and listen
To the mighty roaring waterfall
Watch it's water tranquilly
Cascading down the cliff
Come with me and heal your heart
And mend your broken wings
To the soft sweet melody
Of my Celtic Harp
Let your heart strings
Sing into the night
Come with me where dreams come true
And where wishes are granted
Take my hand and walk with me
I'll be your friend
Come with me where tears are wiped away
And replaced with ocean treasures
For each tear is a pearl
Each heartache is a ruby
Each wish is a sapphire
Each joy is an emerald
Forgiveness is a diamond
Friendship is a garnet
Freedom is a blue topaz
And love is a red crystal

*~Marian~
Finally I thought of something worth while to post!!
I hope it makes sense!!! ~<3
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
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 2013 Meenakshi Iyer
Daan
Timing
 Jun 2013 Meenakshi Iyer
Daan
It is not right
wait longer.
From a distance,
the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
she is all evil and dark, one would think,
the overcast sky her sinister cloak.

But intruder under my umbrella, she is playful,
I watch this coy maiden, I desired from afar,
now she walks with me step to matching step,
tries to entice me with her soft tunes,
tender cool fingers, rubbing my cheeks,
her lover's touch unmistakable, passionate, eager
I shiver, she wants me to get in to her arms, cuddle.

I throw away my umbrella,
in boyish rumbunctiousness,  run to her
her hands moving fast tickle me, pinch
then a sudden embrace, making me squirm
with deep pleasure I dreamt in wakeful nights.
The joy of life that  the water and receptive earth evoke,
loud green glee around,  in me creates goosebumps,
in my dreams she comes to me
and tells the secrets of
nights I long for my love and me alone.
Rain, the seductress, taught me
the passions of living and loving
she,  awakened the spirit that seeps deep in to the
core of my being.

**When I lay awake in monsoon nights,
across my window she tangoes
in fierce passion with the wind,
that keeps me excited till I get absorbed
in to a dream that has love as its theme.
Once I lost you
Once I tossed you
You never said a word
I never could have heard

Miracle you bore
A refugee in the wreckage
Sharpening your wings
Withstanding dangerous oppression

Young being, incomplete being
Trying not to succumb
To your own capitalist appropriation
Eminent commodification
Implicating your body and mind

Who remained unscathed?
Who wreaked the havoc?
Just...so many wings could gain wind
In this cage, lacking space

System simply cannot withstand
Cost of everyone's liberation
Convenient systematic predilection
Where some are never meant to fly

Miracle you bore
A refugee in the wreckage
Sharpening your wings
Withstanding dangerous oppression

How can any wings soar
When the trail of their shadows
Hide systematic traps for our failure
To ensure only a few course the skies

Liberation is not meant to be
Just yours or mine
No commodity for private consumption

Its usage, embrace, and appropriation
Has universal implications
A radical transformation that seeks to complete a human being
Emblematic of an ideological reconceptualization
A revolutionary new understanding of being human

A re-authentication of our own liberation
Purely predicated on that of others
June 4, 2013
 Jun 2013 Meenakshi Iyer
st64
So. You like me as your pastime?
Hmm, please take another look
And see there's a person attached to it
With a full life and dreams, fool!

Being such the ardent lover of liver
She alit the bus and sat square across a damsel
Carrying happy burden; spontaneous loss
And on this day, witness to the leaking full......

Teeming thoughts rage on inside
Sees a man spitting ceaseless into a mug
Spitting, spitting, spitting...!!
Now a china teacup .... is all she'll have.

Frustration climbs the walls like spiders
Leave behind dangling webs of duplicitous ire
Spray its viscous poison everywhere
A smack, an outburst; ugly scene.

Hard to see where it ends, where it starts
Tumultuous energy always kept in check
Surreptitious trafficking in serendipity
Split desires sport with silken threads.

Embracing pain which dominates so
Heartache elemental dogs every move
See you leave, go off alone
Hide high grievance, suffocate.

Seems this loveware needs reconfiguring
Sittin' pretty, like a duck in the water
Ain't the way; keeps the target on yer back
Life's sometimes quite the storm..... in a Chinese teacup!


S T, 03 June 2013
Fancy some java?

:)

My fave is Earl Grey, then camomile, green ....

Tea is a great (meditative) companion, not so.
 Jun 2013 Meenakshi Iyer
st64
Deep down inside, I have this feeling
Trouble lies behind those eyes
Do you need me to change my ways
For our dialogue to stay open?

Deep down inside, I have this feeling
Desire plays within your mind
Do you need to float on another cloud?
Seems you're writing your thoughts in the sky

Refrain:
Perhaps there's no place big enough for you
You crave more space, our kanvass is too small
So, I'm lying here on the floor
See your thinking bounce off the walls
Hoping you're still my true friend.....


S T, 4 June 2013
(an older song...of erstwhile years)

Can one stay friends..even as we change and grow?
Can true friends accept and embrace the things that the years teach us?
No-one really stays the same...we can't! lol

The only thing which remains constant, other than death...is CHANGE, not so?

Just 'cos we're adults, doesn't mean we've stopped growing: sure, physically maybe...but, other spheres of growth...

What was that cool saying I read somewhere:
'If you were born without wings, do nothing to prevent their growing.'
                                                                                                  - Coco Chanel



sub-entry:

'letting grow'

1.
love the giddying feeling
of the merry-go-round, yes.

love dancing
to that disco beat, yes.

love going out
and doing things, yes.

2.
then, there comes a time
when we least expect,
yet need most of all:
a powerful lesson to learn.

3.
love isn't really about letting go
...growing up ain't about being so serioso, **** it!

it's simple:
merely allow space for...letting grow,
ohhh yeah!


(comme la vie est belle, mes amis :)
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