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A curtain of mist
is raised
by triumphant sun
then brisk breeze
cues the daffodils
to dance
ex's and oh's
hugs and kisses
happy smiles
dreadful horrible
cheerful winks
subtle gestures
telling of
desire and passion
barely contained
restrained
then released
at which point
like butterflies
or their less
attractive friends
moths, they
scatter and disperse
and are gone
leaving only
bleeding hearts
chapped, winter-kissed
lips, peeling and
stinging as they
frown pretty.
at the time of writing, the author was unaware of the fact that the title of this poem was the same as a fairly well known atreyu song. he apologizes to everyone who was nauseated by this correlation.
I’ve never seen his skin,
But I’ve traced the curve of his ribs
Drawing star maps on his anatomy
I’ve witnessed the blade of his hip
Scratched his spine
And run fingertips across his collar

And last night I couldn’t sleep
Watching a set of fragile wings smaller than my pinkie nail
Circle the glow of my lamp, transfixed
After bobbing in and out of the lampshade,
It sputtered and fell onto my bedside table
Moths never know light is lethal
it shoulda been                               I woulda gone away                           i coulda broken*
easy to let go                                  kept thinking it was                         the promise I gave
to honour what emerges                  pointless to stay                              i chose to honour
and go with the flow                        but I knew it would hurt you            what my heart said
I’ve done it                                      if I chose to walk away                      always forever
a thousand times before                   what you don’t realize                    through good times
But somehow                                    is that                                                 bad times
when it comes to you                        in your hands                                    and the space
spontaneity needs                             i am clay                                         in between them
to be forced                                     you could mold me                           some inner voice
with you                                           into a shape                                       has spoken
things can’t be awry                          or throw me away                            through this choice
everything must be                            I’d keep coming back                             I’ve made
perfect for you                                 again and again                                           today

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
18.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
How did you choose to read this? Let me know!
I                          am                  a                 ­            creative                 vampire
Am                     a                     bizzare                   creature                     i,
A                         bizzare          poetry                    craving               ­     vampire
Creative             creature         craving                   your                        poetry
Vampire              I,       ­               vampire                poetry                   write

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
My humble attempt at trying to write a square stanza. A square stanza is one that can be read both across and down. Have been wanting to write one ever since I read Lewis Carroll's square stanza. You could see that at this link : http://www.futilitycloset.com/2009/05/18/7669/
 Sep 2012 Tasbah Phawna
Kay Meraz
why wont you read my art?
it's not always about you, is that why?
you know i'm some-what worthy,
yet you don't read my art?
all the letters I've wrote to you,
                                                    all of
                                                                ­   them like
                                                            ­                         this
you nod, sneer, and you ignore my art.
AH but-
to ignore my art, is to ignore my heart.

are you afraid to look into my past,
my lusts, my introspection? is that why you don't read my art?
but if it were a painting would you ignore my art then?

is it that
MY
       WORDS
                       ARE
                                 TOO
                                         BIG
                                                       FOR
                                                                ­YOU?

*but i can write really
little
if that'll make you read my art.
 Sep 2012 Tasbah Phawna
Pen Lux
time slip
             p   i
               n
                        g
through my fingers.
words w   w w
o  o      o   r words
words   r
d       d    d        s
   s            s
                  pouring
from my mouth.

three children catching fish in a pond
with an empty coke bottle, annoyance
at their little voices, "Not like that!"
"Let me catch it!"

victory in death to create their own peace.

the day was too shy for me to face myself
(excuses, reasons, call them as you see them,
  even if it's hard to look at things you don't like).
unpleasant thoughts surround me, there's nothing I can do,
except to remove the things that eat away, that keep me eating:
gluttony grabs hold, depressions wits (it knows if it drags me deeper
                                                          ­     then it'll probably get to stay).
sickness finds it's way through neglected troubles.
standing up to yourself for yourself is the beginning,
once you stand up to others is when you start to move forward.
patience, love, empathy, communication, assertion, emotion, fear:
let it flow: all complimentary, opposite and in between.
thrashing does you no good,
it simply sends you under.

I want to stick my head under and get a taste,
float on my back and breathe in fresh air,
avoid holding onto anything so as not to disturb what might need change,
enjoy what is here, be thankful for what was, and welcome what comes.
The ink they drew on our arms faded with each day.
They told us it would last forever, but they knew nothing.
We had said forever, but we, too knew nothing.
We thought we could do it,
We knew it would be hard, but we were committed, willing to fight.
Until the fights lasted for days,
Until we grew tired and hungry,
Until, instead of battling together, we battled against one another.
And then with each passing second,
With each look of desperation,
With each sigh,
We grew apart.
We were slowly dividing.
The miles that separated us were nothing compared to the silences.
We blamed everything on that,
We said that the distance that separated us was merely physical, but it was emotional too.
So 2 years ago we gave up and called it quits,
But you called me the other day
To be honest, I hadn’t thought of you for a while
And when your face light up the screen on my phone
It darkened my day
I had forgotten about you
Not accidentally, but through lots and lots of sleepless nights
But you called,
And I remembered
It all flooded back and I hand’t been prepared
So I sank back into our past
Our history
Whatever it was that we were
And this poem doesn’t really make much sense,
But neither did what we had
We would talk, hang out, hold hands
Then we wouldn’t speak
You would call, we would drink coffee, longboard, and as if we were truly flying,
They days swept passed us uncounted.
Then you wouldn’t look at me during school
And you wouldn’t ever actually date me
And you wouldn’t make it facebook official
And everyone knows that if you’re not FBO, then it’s not real
Or at least thats how it was in high school.
So I left, I moved away, I forgot
Then you would call again and we would talk and laugh and even cry.
Remember that time you told me you loved me?
I forgot about that too, until you called the other day
You said you loved me and my world fell shattered
You dropped a bomb on my complacent life
And the buildings and routines crumbled
And like that Glen Hansard song,
We were falling slowly
And in a hopeful voice, we had said that we still had time,
But I was a thousand miles away
And you had a girlfriend
And time had run out
What we had in high school, whatever the hell it was,
Wasn’t going to work this time.
So we stopped talking
And those letters that I wrote to you freshman year are scattered along some backroad highway in Kentucky
And yeah I know you’re not supposed to litter, but I had to get rid of you somehow
I had to wash your smell off my skin
To erase the words we had spoken
So fine me!
Because this has already cost me everything
Remember those nights when we would lay on deck and look at the stars
It sounds so cliche now,
But those were the nights when nothing else mattered
When the world was just you and me
Remember when we said we would move to Colorado
We would buy a cabin in the woods
I would write books and you would read every last word of them
You’d teach me how to snowboard
And I’d fall, but you’d pick me up like you always did.
And we’d go home and eat chicken noodle soup
And you would hold me until we were no longer frozen
But thats all just a memory of something that should have happened
A frozen dream that will never thaw out
Why in the world did you call me?
The scars had finally healed, but you had to go and reopen them
You took a scalpel to my heart
And I don’t know when I’ll ever stop bleeding.  
I read once that we will never forget our first love
And I don’t even know if you can call what we had love
I don’t know if you can technically love someone that you never even dated
But I’m throwing all technicalities out the window.  
You were the first
and the only boy that I have ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I wanted to travel the world with you
To be so lost in each other that the maps would never be able to tell us the way home
Because just like that other song,
you would be my home
Because Home is wherever I’m with you
But now your just a memory
A healing wound that sometimes breaks open
One I look at now and believe will never heal.
But eventually, over time, if you ever stop calling me, it will.
And sometimes I’ll look at the scar and remember you, but I’ll feel nothing more.
So as hard as this is for me to say,
And as much as I wanted it to work out
Please, please don’t ever call me again.
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