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I think we could use
A little more grace
And mercy these days
We are justice driven
Wanting justice for this
And wanting justice for that
We persecute and judge
We don't stop to think
About the person
We are persecuting
We get so fixated
On punishing people
For their actions
Instead of looking
At the real person
We stop seeing
The humanity
Behind the person
Driven by our biases
And our preconceived ideas
About who that person is
We need to step away
From this type of thinking
And start to see the person
Seeing the person in the street
Who doesn't have a home
Looking into the eyes of a stranger
And understanding where they are coming from
Feeling that hurt and pain in your heart at knowing
That your fellow man is hurting and suffering instead
Of turning a blind eye to the injustices that are going on
Day by day because if you continue to show apathy and judge
Your fellow man you are forgetting god's greatest commandment
Love thy neighbor as you would love yourself and treat them accordingly
Who are you?                                                             ­                                                                Who are you?
i think i know you                                                              ­                                             i think i’ve met you
That i’ve seen you before                                                           ­                         and known you inside out
and been with you                                                              ­               touched your dreams, felt your scars
spent some meaningful times                                                          sh­own you mine too, under the stars
shared some laughs and shared some sorrows              we’ve discussed commonalities and discords

                                                       ­                            i know you
                                                             ­                    you know me
                                                              ­                and yet it seems
                                                           ­                  we’ve never met
                                                             ­            and odd as it may seem
                                                            ­              i don’t recognize you

                                                            ­               it makes me want to
                                                              ­                pick your brain
                                                           ­                     pych you out
                                                             ­          sift through your secrets
                                                         ­          need to figure you out to know
                                                            ­           where we’ve met before

                                                         ­         i want to dissect your heart
                                                           ­           and find my place in it
                                                              ­  i know i’ve been there before


-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  01.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Do you believe
that a poem
has not one meaning
                                                                ­                                                                 ­     but imports as numerous
                                                        ­                                                                 ­           as the eyes that experience
                                                      ­                                                                 ­                                     its existence
                                                       ­                                                                 ­               and try to piece together
                                                        ­                                                                 ­              how it exists in their life?
that the core of a poem
is some internal light
that the poet has basked in
which has manifested itself on the page?

                                                          ­                but that for each of us
                                                              ­    who is touched by its presence
                                                        ­                   it is an aurora borealis
                                                        ­                  which holds us rooted
                                                          ­                 panting in excitement
                                                      ­                       lost in admiration
                                             and appreciating that someone somewhere understands?


                                                ­                                                                 ­           that an encounter with a poem
                                                            ­                                                 is like trying to find shapes in the clouds
                                                          ­                                                                 ­       or constellations in the stars
                                                           ­                                                                 ­            or meanings in inkblots

that within its randomness
patterns emerge
and each one  may discover
exactly what one is looking for
                                                             ­                                                           that within this meeting of minds
                                                           ­                                                                 ­     there is an universal connect
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                        a personality test-
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                        that reveals both
                                                            ­                                                                 ­            the reader and the poet

so while reading any poem
it may be worthwhile to think
what did I learn about you?
and what did I learn about myself?

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
18.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
They are quite invisible
The citizens of Missingville
They are here one second and gone the other

On the one hand they make you smile
On the other shed a tear
You may never see them
But always they are present
And when they disappear altogether
More acute their absence

You may not get a chance
To say good bye
If you saw them somewhere
you mayn’t be able to recognize
but for the little while you feel them
you share some intimacies together

And wherever they go off to
I wish their life gets better and better!

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  19.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Recently, Paul Gurrieri wrote a poem called "Word People in Word Houses" where he spoke of how HP is like a place with neighborhoods and how much you connect with other poets makes you place them in your mental map-either close b or far away. When someone leaves HP he says, a "hole" is created in that map.
My first "hole" was created today. i suddenly realized that Ammukutty isn't around anymore! She was on HP for a very short while, but she was already in my nearby neighborhood. I will miss her! And I do hope that she decides to come back!
Holiness is what
I long for
Holiness
Is what my heart
Cries out for
In the night
My heart
My soul
Wants to be
Whole
Completely
Connected
But the world
Has a way
Of dragging
Me back
Dragging me down
Down to the world
To the muck
And the mire
But even among
The troubles
And the trials
There is still beauty
Even in the storms
Life is holy
Every life
Carries that holy flame
That fire that flows
Every thing is holy
Every thing comes
From God
Every thing
That makes us
Every thing
Thats inside of us
Comes from God
All life is holy
In some way
Every thing breathes
The secret of God
In every second
In every action
God is there
Sharing his love
And holiness
To every one
And every thing
That recognizes him
And accepts the healing
Love
Mercy
Holiness
That comes
From accepting
The holiness
Inside yourself
And every one
Your shirt was missing a button
and I couldn't help but notice
but you told me I was pretentious
so I pretended not to see it
but all day long it bothered
me and I couldn't help but stare
at the way the fabric bunched
and nobody seemed to care
I know its late, but it’s a Sunday
a lazy sunny morning
                               after the stormy night yesterday
and all I want is to lie
right here beside you amongst the pillows
                                                        ­      and nuzzle upto you
bury my face in your chest
and feel your warmth inching its way from
                                                                ­         my heart to my toes
the aches and pains of the week
slowly melting away in your bear hug
                                                             ­         and my world lighting up
with your smile
“aren’t you getting up?”, you ask
my eyes are stuck together with sleep
I’m not ready to let the world in yet
                                                             ­            want to shut it out today
but you are persistent
i see you’ve been up before me
i smell the coffee in your breath

                                                         ­      i find coffee-flavoured lips
                                                            ­       are quite addictive


Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
my words are reality sharp cuts they’ll peirce you and hurt you
                                   beware and back off lest i lose control
                                                   and  hurl them at you

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  17.09.12

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Usually I'm a nice person..I try not to lose my temper and fly off the handle, and almost always keep my language under control. But every once in a while someone comes along to try my patience...
The darkness overcomes
Shadows we cannot see
What really hides behind
Is what I chose to believe

Words inherit the mind
For a purpose unknown
Another day shines
Realizing that I am alone
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