I know how I see myself
but
I can't stop myself from wondering

who am I in the eyes of everyone else?

when someone asks me a question
during a discussion in CWP
and everyone hears me
as i stumble over my words
in the center of that quiet room,
trying to answer the simple question-
"how does that makes you feel?"
and i wonder,
how does my stumbling and stuttering
make them feel,
about me?
does it change anything?

Or when i go to bed
thinking about
the conversations i've had during the day
and wondering how those friends see me.

I've never asked,
never had the guts.

My self esteem has always been low
I've always hated myself,
Sometimes i just hope
the smiles are true,
the friendships, true.

I've never asked

Who am I?




©Brandon Webb
2012

My poor, stupid poodle,
peed on the pedestal
of Cleopatra's needle
on Victoria embankment,
near the Golden Jubilee bridge.
( Oh! I am miserable!
I couldn't stop the debacle)
The poodle's puny misdeed
embarrassed not just me,
but the whole city of Westminster,
as fire alarm rang out loud,
when an overzealous constable
gave a distress signal.
It brought the fire chief himself,
who came rushing to meet
the emergency situation,
thinking the poodle was trying
to put out a fire erupted
on the ancient monument,
once shipped to England,
overcoming great adversities,
from Africa, long back.

is it you who sent your caress
through this wind-
was it your loneliness
that made me shiver
and reach out in despair?

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  18.12.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

1
I take a day off and
I drive my grandma to the mall
You’re the best grandson ever, she says
You make time for me

And so she walks from shop to shop
armed with her shopping list
She throws each item into the trolley
and ticks off against her list
Two hours, three hours, four pass
and she smiles to me and says:
We’re done! Let’s go…

2
And so we go to the car
and I help her load
every item in the boot, and in the back
and just then, she says:
Oh, no – we got to go back;
there’s one more thing I’ve got to get!

But grandma, I say,
You had a list and ticked off each item
and you’ve bought everything

But you silly boy, says Grandma
*I haven’t bought you anything
Because I forgot to put you on the list!

We still see and hear their annoying class,
business Blackberry users amplify their relic, a discourse with the plebs,
plumb clipped tones from deepest
Home counties and southern coast
tired men with families
moved to gentrified London,
at any farmers market you catch them
in their 4x4, dress down best
a pram in tow, Pomfrey  junior
their prodigal Norman sounding offspring
rhetorically the promised land,
a seed bank unending.

Words, images, little things that would not let me be
pulled, tugging for awhile
I felt them, knew them too,
spoke of deeper knowing,
stringed music playing violins
words, colors flooded in

The paper, the paint
a page, no thought in mind,
crooked smile unrefined,
thick the brush strokes ever bold
eyes, pooled mirrors of soul -
I dared to look
within