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2.1k · Sep 2012
Lethologica
He’s doing a crossword, I’m doing the dishes.
“What is that word?”, he asks,
“the one that means given to incessant laughter”.
“Joyful, gleeful, cheerful?”
‘No that’s not what I meant”
“Mirthful, merry, enjoyment”
“That’s just not it”
“Well, how many letters is it?”
(Now I’m getting interested)
“Eight”
“What does it begin with?”
“I haven’t got that yet, but it does end with a N”
“a N…Hmmm..Oh! I’ve got it”
“What?”
“I can’t remember-but its on the tip of my tongue”
“That’s not helping”, he adds with sarcasm
“I’m giving it all I’ve got but the word just won’t come”
“Try saying it in your mind,
what does it sound like?”

“Aquarium”
“So, its starts with an A?”
“Yeah, that’s for sure”
“We’ve got to find this lethologica of yours a cure!”
“I’ve got! I’ve got it! Abderian is the word!”

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
The word "lethologica" describes the state of not being able to remember the word you want. It is a psychological disorder. The related non-pathological condition is the "tip of the tongue" phenomenon. The above is an imaginary conversation.
2.1k · Oct 2012
The Promise of Hennaed Hands
blood red
dancing peacock
adorns right
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                    dholak and  shehnai
                                                    ­                                                                 ­                              play rhythmically
                                                    ­                                                                 ­                                                     on left    
                                                        ­                       hennaed hands
                                                           ­                           rekindle
                                                                ­              my  bridal memories
stolen glances
of dream-filled eyes
the anticipation of a new life
                                                            ­                                                                 ­     mingled with apprehension
                                                    ­                                                                 ­                                        at straying off
                                                             ­                                                                 ­                              familiar roads
                                                        ­faith tied everything together
                                                       and coloured my hands today


- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   14.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
dholak and shehnai are traditional Indian musical instruments.
2.0k · Sep 2012
Dharma Vs Kama
there is a wrestle going on inside of me
an epic match
                                        
                                                                ­      nAch vs nAff
At one end “Duty”-the undefeated ruling champion
                                                        ­             And at the other end
                                                                ­                              “Desire”-a strong contender for the title

Come and watch this fight to the death!
get out the fizz and popcorn
join the fun!
see me oscillate-between one and the other
i’m like an old grandfather clock
can’t decide
this lunacy is felt
in my deepest self, my core
stretched so far I’m torn apart
every limb every pore seethes in the anticipation
of the win
my mind bounces off the walls
I wonder what the point is at all-
someday this will end in a drunken brawl.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
         07.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
“Love and work... work and love, that's all there is." - Sigmund Freud

Dharma : Duty
Kama : Desire.
nAch: In psychological terminology: Need for Achievement
nAff: In psychological terminology: Need for Affiliation
2.0k · Feb 2013
evening
on evenings such as these
everything inside of me
finds a mirthful memory
to indulge in its revelry
on evenings such as these
my heart hitches a ride
with these soft winds
that barely make their presence felt,
and soars towards the last
swash of the orange sea
on the horizon

evenings such as these
are when
i wait
for you
to find
me

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   02.02.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
2.0k · Nov 2012
Word Association?
mind puddles (remembering e.e.c)
mind puzzles (action to inaction)
time on a treadmill
cryptic crosswords
(crystallize)
Act II
{experimental} overcome
black currant swirls
espy telescopical visions

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
7.11.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
2.0k · Aug 2012
A Woman of Substance
a woman of substance the magazine proclaims
and what are these "substances" may I ask?

Its her grit and determination
her will to succeed
to overcome and defend her rights
if need be
loving and nurturing are not her only duties
she can also break your heart or break your bones
messing with her is not a risk you need
she creates her own space
she finds her own niche

She may be a social butterfly, a business woman,
a sports star, a housewife or a maid indeed
but a woman of substance is one of a kind indeed
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  09/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
2.0k · Oct 2012
Colourful Evenings (Tanka)
our evenings blue
await the sky’s rosy blushed face
some calming chaos
bringing forth the shy ardor
eyes dance anticipating
my sweetheart’s presence

- Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
2.0k · Oct 2012
My Venetian Fantasy
lazy afternoon
meandering through the canals
gondola and gondolier both a touch of the romantic
                                                       ­                             wanting to lose myself
                                                          ­                 in the belly of this beautiful city
                                                            ­                                get so lost i could never get out
                                                            ­                           bottle of vino, a couple of delicate wine glasses

                                                        ­                 eyes only for you, but my ears are Vivaldi’s
                                                      ­                    or just the trilling notes of that old Hindi tune
                                                                ­     with some Italian verses thrown in for good measure
poetry flows here not water
               the ghosts of Byron and Browning haunt them
                                                            ­                     * time must stand still for me
                                                              ­                    as i explore this fantasy*



-Vijayalakshmi Harish
08.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Have always wanted to go to Venice..this is how I imagine it to be!!!
and the "old Hindi tune" is of course, "Do Lafzon Ki Hai" sung by Ashaji & R D Burman in the Hindi movie The Great Gambler, starring Amitabh and Zeenat Aman. That's the song that started my obsession with Venice.
Here's the youtube link to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waeAGdCvJd8
1.9k · Aug 2012
Secret
secret laughter
secret reason to be

when i'm with you
our hands hold a secret
that our smiles reveal

in the purple skies of my dreams
our secrets are the kites that fly

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  04/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.9k · Oct 2012
Focus of Control
this is how it works-
what i focus on        
                                                  e   ­         x         p        a           n          d         s
fills my life with its presence
the positive or the negative-i make the choice.
victimhood or victorious-i choose how the world remembers me
                                                              ­                                                                 ­             the one i reject shrinks
                                                         ­                                                                 ­          ignored, it is dissolved, bygone
                                                          ­                                       positive or negative it disappears if it isn’t minded
call myself a failure - the world will agree
call myself a success – still they’ll cheer
you see, its always me who decides, what i want to be!

of course, it must come with a big dollop of humility

i can only start with me-change begins with me
can influence only that which lies within-inner peace
focus on my strengths, help them be
inflate them in my reality

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   15.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.9k · Mar 2013
March Showers
even the gulmohur looks confused
--"where is the sun?", it seems to ask
the dark rainclouds
as it sways distractedly
outside my window,
its orange flames
flickering rhythmically,
engaged in a waltz with
the falling rain.
the bamboo --wiser,
greener, stands unperturbed
barely reacting as the
water rolls off its leanness
nothing seems to surprise
its experienced being
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        06.03.2013
       Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.8k · Oct 2012
Happy Birthday Bapu!
it pains me to see
that for many
you’re just a photo on a wall
and on our currency
a permanent fixture in our lives
a tradition that no one knows the origin of
and even if known-misunderstood
your philosophy distorted, your methods abused
the poorest, most controversial parts of it magnified
and what is really important buried
under generations of lip service
and self-serving biases
i myself don’t agree
with everything you said
but still, i admit
that most of it made sense
thank you for questioning violence
and greed, corruption and falsity
thank you for the difference you made
Happy Birthday!
i wish you were around
to clarify what has become twisted
to silence your detractors
and light the way again

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  02.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Gandhiji was fondly known as "Bapu"-Father. October 2nd is his birthday. I sincerely regret that for most in my generation his birthday is just another holiday, and worse, a "dry" holiday. They can't see the value in what he practiced and preached. "Ahmisa" is seen as being weak or as a tool for extortion. Not their fault entirely, nor his. As a generation, i think we are extremely cynical and disillusioned by the state of politics and governance in India. Its just a sad state of affairs that I'm making an effort to change in a small way.
1.8k · Aug 2012
Visions
Majestic old moss covered lion
standing guard over the locus of a pagan soul
and hedonistic bloodhounds ready to pounce
their muscles stretched in anticipation of  feasting

An ancient timekeeper drips eternity in pearly drops
over and above the city of omniscience…
chalky faces embedded in the century old walls
I wonder about their cloaked, clandestine lives

The lady in white lost in peaceful contemplation
demure head ensconced within her flowery crown
presiding goddess over a temple of busy-ness
devotees scurrying beneath her perennial sight

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
20/08/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.8k · Sep 2012
Empathy (Tanka)
I wish I didn’t care
and could ignore your feelings
but somehow I do
some invisible fiber
seems to tie me to your core
like the sea joins shores

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   18.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Once again, Thanks Paul for teaching me :)
1.8k · Aug 2012
Masquerading in the Mirror
The face tears—splits—breaks
stained by the soul-blood
that pours out in the interrupting
time–space between two eternities

The replacement is an actor
a master of disguise
repulsive, hated, discarded, exiled
from the world of  sweetness

The scar throbs across the face
Its rudeness red

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.8k · Nov 2012
Waking up
i wish the world would forget me
melding into my mini-universe
amidst wispy clumps of trees
reassuring mountain peaks
silver-green and green gold glistening in the sun
pink tipped still life cavorting with the breeze
even a dead tree looks alive, standing alone
within this sea of brightened vigour
mists roll over the mountains
we roll over the mists
watching sleepy-headed flowers stir awake
as if woken by some gentler spirit
i trace strawberry hearts on your skin
these shameless carnations,
they flaunt their crimson mouths
drawing in for a kiss

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  03.11.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.7k · Sep 2012
Axing the Frozen Sea
My greatest fear is
that my mind will become languid
all these nerves that buzz and fill
will someday become a vegetable

somnolent times will set upon me
a spell from which I cannot recover
lazily and languorously I shall dwell
an intellect without vigour

too much comfort too much praise too much ease
shall push me off the cliff of complacency
and I shall fall without cognizance
a mental suicide, awareness in deep freeze

a hardened blank consciousness
that needs to be broken through
excavated from a  grave of self-righteousness
pushed beyond self-set limits
melted until the core is seen

I need to feel the pain and hurt
cry briny tears and experience grief
need to feel unsure undecided
obscure myself in anxiety
make sure the inner ocean stays unfrozen

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        12.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
From a letter by Franz Kafka to his schoolmate Oskar Pollak, 27 January 1904 (translated by Richard and Clara Winston): 'I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us. That is my belief.'
1.7k · Mar 2013
Paradox
for months on end
silence bridged us
even though I missed you then
it was never like this.
yesterday we spoke
and it was like the first
rain of the monsoon.
i never realized how much the
dust of days masked
how much I missed you.
a chain has snapped inside me
and now the link refuses to be fixed.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  28.03.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.7k · Jan 2013
Calculated Risk
Stranger,
why do you choose
to stay wrapped in this mystery
when the sunshine beckons you
to leave behind the conch
that shelters you and listen
to a song other than that of the sea
step out of your (with)drawing room
be a guest for once
explore these gifts i bring you
choose which ones you’ll keep
discard the ones you don’t need
but do take a look at what is offered
hide not behind the curtains
forgo the fabricated veil
unwrap yourself hand and foot
rejoice in your own vulnerability
fall, get hurt, nurse your wounds
trust and be betrayed
in the end you’ll  only find
these trials have made you stronger
to find your very own Excalibur
take a risk
take a chance
let me in
for i do wonder
what it is like
to be in your head

but more than that
i ponder
what it is like
to be in your heart


- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  21.01.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Thank you all for the love and support you have been giving me!
I have been fortunate enough to be chosen as the featured guest poet on bentlily.com for this week. If you'd like to you could go see me there at http://bentlily.com/guest/vijayalakshmi-harish/ :)
1.7k · Oct 2012
Whodunnit?
once upon a time
there happened to be
a desert oasis with a population of three-
Mr A, Mr B and Mr C
no one really knows why
but they were all enemies
and then one day Mr A and Mr B
decided-quite separately
that Mr C should die -
he shouldn’t be allowed to stay alive
and so they executed their plans dastardly
Mr A poisoned C’s water with evil glee
knowing that when C drank eagerly
he would drop dead quite suddenly
but unknown to him Mr B
poked little holes in C’s canteen
knowing that without water to drink
C would soon be on life’s brink
so all the poison dripped away
with all the water , one would say
that with the double treachery
Mr C would be a dead man anyday
and so it did happen
that with no water in his canteen
and none to refill
Mr C did drop dead of thirst
But that did beg the question-
who did him in?
A and B play the blame game
A says C never drank  any of the poison
So how is he to blame?
but as B points out that his puncturing the canteen is irrelevant
for C would have drunk the water
and still met the same end
so it really is a contest of means versus the end
the end is the same and the question remains-
whodunnit?

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  05.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
My attempt at poetically rendering the Smullyan's Paradox, which goes thus:

"At a desert oasis, A and B decide independently to ****** C. A poisons C’s canteen, and later B punches a hole in it. C dies of thirst. Who killed him?
A argues that C never drank the poison. B claims that he only deprived C of poisoned water. They're both right, but still C is dead. Who's guilty?"
1.7k · Aug 2012
Inception
r
                      R      E  
A         d   D               A     e
                        M
                        M
ensconced
m­agically transforming everything i am
shrinking pungent times that shock
a jolt that makes apparent the
          I      
L       lies       E
         S
the tragic muse she swells and fills
                                                        k  ­            p
every sense that confuses and  s            i               s
drawing blood with every breath
a hurt that transcends the depth
of sanity
the boundaries that fate decree
a dwelling that disallows the free
                 R
a      T     rap      A
                  P
until all i do is go round about
a confusion that deepens
the maze that thickens
a black-red ooze that congeals
and seals
the burial grounds of dreams
that steal
the memories of a deeper psyche
that swirl and swarm in our midst
the ghosts of a beaten past.

Vijayalakshmi Harish
23.08.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
A poem inspired by the movie Inception
1.7k · Oct 2012
From Point A to Point B
every belief should begin as a seed of disbelief
buried in the soil of doubt
nourished by the incessant rain of queries
that strengthen
and cause the flower to bloom or the fruit to ripen

                                                          ­                                                                 ­                        ॐ असतो मा सद्गमय ।
                                                               ­                                                                 ­                  तमसो मा ज्योतिर्गमय ।
                                                               ­                                                                 ­                    मृत्योर्मा अमृतं गमय ।
                                                               ­                                                                 ­         ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥


every positive starts off as an embryo of negativity
only the knowledge of the gloom
enhances the wisdom of luminosity
conjoined twins
joined at the hip

cynicism is the parent of change for the better
provided of course
the labour pain is allowed to occur!

                                                         ­                                                      Om,  Lead us from Untruth to Truth,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­          from Darkness to Light,
                                                          ­                                                                 ­         from Death to Immortality
                                                     ­                                                                 ­                Om Peace, Peace, Peace.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   28.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Special Thanks to Matthew P  Hill for sparking the flame!
1.7k · Jul 2013
Trust
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
1.7k · Jan 2013
Wrongly Accused (10w)
~~                                                                            it was
                                                                            Complacency
                                                                                   and never
                                                                                  Curiosity

                                                                                         that
                                                                                       killed
                                                                                        the cat

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   14.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
F                  l            e               e            i               n          g            I              m              a          ­ g            e            s-
mindscapes framed in glass
the world looks fragile, delicately beautiful
drowsy rhythm smells like green chilli fritters
colours stand out amongst our greyness
awake-yet drifting away

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
         24.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Oct 2012
Lazy Monday
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
1.6k · Jun 2013
wishful thinking
you wrote me
within the lines on your palm
like a fragrance
held back too long
i hold this space
finding no cause for fear
in this unspoken emotion
that hangs between us
like a cozy muteness
our eyes
are two cliffs
pulled apart,
our stolen glances
daring to vault across
burn into my consciousness
the visions that you see
make me unburdened
of this cold i feel
and let me
join your flight
over the stars
or
repose with you
on the soft grass
read to me
and let me
sing you a lullaby

this is what life
should be all about.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  04.06.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Jan 2013
Legacy
Love
is the fount of abundance
of endless youth – which knows
only to give
but Lover, do you know
how to take?

to you she offers this-
the legacy of the Wait
employ it as you will –
as a bed of thorns or as a work of art
the choice is yours

when the current of time shall turn
your chance will come
to take from that fount all you want
but the journey is arduous
the climb-treacherous
many a pitfall may lie in your path
beware - stay steadfast!

pour all of yourself without hesitation
drop by drop into that sacrificial fire
as your ink depletes onto the pages
like Svaha meeting Agni
there will come to exist
the consummation of your innermost desires

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   23.01.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Inspired by Aditya's poem A Thing of Art (http://hellopoetry.com/poem/a-thing-of-art/).
Thank you Aditya!

Svaha & Agni : Svāhā is a minor goddess, and the wife of Agni-the God of Fire in Vedic mythology. It is said that the gods to whom offerings are being made through yagna (sacrificial fire) refuse the offerings unless the word 'svaha' is uttered during the sacrifice.
1.6k · Jun 2013
Split Wide Open
today is one of those days
when i
come unstuck
at the seams of
where i am joined to myself
they split open with a

*pop

pop

pop*

and so there is
a hole nobody knows about
--not one that hurts
but one that is sure to sear
my dreams tonight

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   26.06.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Sep 2012
Soul Sisters
i am grateful for our silences                                
thankful- that we can just sit together
comfortable with not talking, no pressure-
no need to think
of intelligent things to say
we can just sit back
and watch the sunlight play
hide and seek with the waves

its nice
how you can listen to my mindvoice
and complete my self-talk
and interrupt my thoughts
and ingest them with yours
like a seed
that breeds and grows and merges
symbiotic with mine own

and if ever we talk
i love how we can stop
midsentence
and then when we meet
after years of separation
pick up exactly where we left off
without missing a beat
get right into it

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  21.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
For those who can understand my silences...
1.6k · Feb 2013
Cleaved
the divergence of roads
is an illusion
a myth perpetuated
by those who fear solitude
but one who has walked the lonely path
enjoyed all its sights, sounds and sceneries
rested in the shade of its motherly oaks
knows that at last
everything converges
every road, every fellow traveller
every other choice
meets at one
single brilliant point

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   08.02.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish,
I love how "cleaved" can mean both "split" and "linked". The word is its own opposite!
1.6k · Aug 2012
Choices
Revolutions of time
and dice of fate
forcing a choice
that lies beyond the apparent

layers and layers of prejudice
and half-truths
of pretence and superstition
peel off

THIS IS WHAT I AM?
ONLY THIS?

                                                        It­s not just about the fork in the road anymore;
                                                        ­              or about the road not taken
                                                           ­                its about the only road-
                                                           ­             that remains to be chosen

Despised? No…Feared?…maybe
littered with the sacrifices of my
broken heart, my injured soul
wounded pride; and darkest fear

                                                           ­                                                                 ­              and yet I shall choose
                                                          ­                                                                 ­  choose to live with my choice
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                            to rejoice in it,
                                                             ­                                                        and try to turn it into a celebration
                                                     ­                                             for maybe- my choice is as tormented as I am.

and so that fate may stand stunned
and beaten at its own game
and time may witness our Triumph



-Vijayalakshmi Harish
08/09/09
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Sep 2012
Incubation (10W)
in the oven of the mind,the words are baking

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
27.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Nov 2012
Poet at Sea
long long ago
your verses did decline
an invitation to ******
to merge with mine
no loss was made no profit forgone
except the one that stayed unborn

your verse became a voice unbound
testing waters deep within
blowing hot blowing warm
underwater treasure newly found
in the collective it went for a swim
I wait at the shore lamp in hand

verse and voice are not enough
the fire within needs a touch
gathering words on the beach
unbidden within seashells hidden
mindful the hunters crouch
i the gladly hunted am so much

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  19.11.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.6k · Oct 2012
A Complimentary Complaint
your words – so alive and powerful
they hold my gaze for so long
i forget to see where i'm going
i t
             r
                       i
                               p
                                    and f
                                           a
                                          l
                   ­                     l
                                         down the   st
                                                              ­     a      ir
                                                       ­                               s
                                ­                                                   of consciousness
lost as i am in this reverie
that your words  create

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   10.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Dedicated to all the wonderful poets here on HP. I am glad to be a part of this community and read your works, even though they do make me trip and fall sometimes :) Special shout out to Ammu, Mae, Paul, Aby, Aditya, Bala, vircapio, Raj, Emily Prunster, David, Cyd, Pandora,Prabhu, Subconscious On Parade, victoria, Donie, Cat Otherwise, Sa Sa Ra, Matthew Hill, Inevitably Raised by Ducks.  You'll make my day, everyday!! Thank you!!!
1.5k · Sep 2012
Coffee-flavoured Lips
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
1.5k · Jun 2013
Nothing
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
1.5k · Mar 2013
Unbroken
his verses were spun sugar
i was stuck on them
as he poured them by the vatfuls
upon my eager eye
for him i displayed my heart
unabashed and openly
he wrote upon its beatings
his stories and his poetry
till all my heart could speak one day
were tales of him and his.
his words were big words
spun with the fabric of  my dreams
and when those dreams were rent and torn
upon my sighs his promise was borne
as if it never were before.
a new vow now was set in stone
--never would I love a poet
again.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  25.03.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.5k · Jan 2013
Beachside Reverie
The conch poked and prodded bursts
Into multicolored fragments
Startling the gulls into
Bewildered flight

The beach cakes my insides
Hand and foot and head and heart
In the sun’s heat it turns to glass
Splinters tear my mask

Loneliness fits like a glove
It rubs like sandpaper
On my sense of self and us
Gradually we erode

Ideas like octopus arms
Multitudinous waves forth
But are concealed by
their own black inky mist

the waves rise and fall
unaware and unconcerned
but we too frail too unimportant
in the larger scheme of things

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
01.01.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Inspired by Sylvia Plath's poem "Two Lovers and a Beachcomber by the Real Sea". Though my work isn't even close to being as good as hers...
http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/two.html
1.5k · Jan 2013
Stranger Passions
using the ink of experience means
leaning on what is known
building on what has been done before-
but what of those things
that move in the realms of the unknown?

The Inuit’s tongue speaks
A hundred words for snow
as in the midst of it
they live and grow

if that is true
for the words we speak
wouldn’t it also flow
that for the passions we most feel
our inner vocabulary is more?

for sure I’ve known
loss and pain
with morbidity had
a mild flirtation
sadness has been a bedfellow
I’ve played with jealousy
and envied greed
with vanity I often meet
I’ve been intimate with fear
fought with guilt
and broken up with anger

with love I’m best friends
happiness smiles at me
in solitude i am at my best
with mirth and joy
i search for peace
abundance and acceptance
are welcome guests
and enthusiasm brings me
the gift of zest

and so on and so forth
i’ve known them all
for better or for worse
but what of those
i know not yet
far away on some distant shore

i do not even know their names
so clueless as to their identity
can’t put a face to any of them
unaware of their personalities
strangers they are
and so will they be
until someday they find me

the only question that is left to be answered -

will I know them when we meet?

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
01.01.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.4k · Jan 2013
Flowers (Haiku)
yellow mini suns
bright lanterns on a dull day
nourishingly warm

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  28.01.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Why do I call these flowers mini suns? Check out the photo at http://vijyalakshmiharish.tumblr.com/.
1.4k · Oct 2012
The Residence of my desires
The echo of centuries-
screams of a tortured mind
reverberate through the souls
of a thousand lives.

The sitar strings vibrate
the ecstatic harmony beckons
life surging though them.

In assertion of existence
the sounds drip slowly through
seeping into the pores
of a clairvoyant history.

And the ghosts in the walls
polish their stifled voices
to speak their stories

Memories ooze through cracks
and are trapped in cobwebs.
Truth hides in dark corners
and seeks hellish deliverance.

Vijayalakshmi.R.
12/11/06

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Happy Halloween!
This an old, old poem, written by me in 2006.
1.4k · Sep 2012
Yat Bhavam Tad Bhavati
The more I look around
The more I see
Distanced                                                    ­                                                                 ­                           hopes
and
                           dreams
(buried)
it breaks my heart to know and feel
the futility of recovering these
if only this and if only that
stopped them from acting on a vision
if only they had!
When i look in the mirror I’m glad
i can still look myself in the eye
proud that I took the leap
                                        not knowing if it would save me or **** me
daring to swim that stormy sea, believing I would survive
and if it were not for my belief
my desire would have remained a desire                                                           ­                                 far
from my reality
i would have joined the ranks of “itoohadadream”
i’m glad i listened to my heart and gave my mind the courage to part
with comfortable security
and jump, blinded, with only my faith to support me

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  22.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Yat Bhavam Tad Bhavati (Sanskrit) : You become what you believe.
1.4k · Oct 2012
Possession
we lie amongst the scattered , shattered words
i wonder -
are we one voice or two?
our thoughts sail down the same stream
life throbs as one rhythmic beat within our ink necklaces
linked by our joint instinct to inscribe
engrave patterns of hope intertwined
amidst the drawings of despair

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
25.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.4k · Nov 2012
Sweet Insomnia
gently bid the night  goodbye
it nourishes no more
the unblinking stare of the stars
no match for my candlelight
wakefulness is more coveted
as everyone else dozes
pieces of calm snatched away
from a world that eschews it
in silky silver voice i sing
lullabies to the waves
the sand gets between my toes
soft and grainy roses
the wakefulness that comes now
has white metallic motifs
shimmering away
mother of pearl
lights the road
across the ocean

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  21.11.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.4k · May 2013
Words
i do not wish that
no silence lies between us;
there must be those silences
interlaced with our deep breaths
as we meet.
but when our silences
cease to speak
when they have
told us all they can
--in the space of a heartbeat
or the entire span of creation
when they have exhausted themselves
then,
i shall want words
i would have them fall
not gently or slowly
but in great energetic torrents
electrified with our passions
for the words that pass
between us
are not the usual cacophony;
they are music
when words
yours and mine
crisscross.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  29.05.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.3k · Dec 2012
Some Hues of Love
The Wait:
don’t look for love in public spaces
love is shy always
hesitating she comes with flowing grace
to the patient lover
in the end all that is needed
is to look into the mirror –
in the reflection of your eyes
you’ll find her!

The First Smile:
Oh! Say not that this world is mean
do not turn your face away from me!
the lack of a smile in return
was not intended to spurn
but your smile left me so captivated
so caught up and fascinated,
that even as my heart somersaulted,
my lips forgot to smile!

Being Together:
the mist hides my secrets,
of it are born my desires
the arc of the moon expands to contain
every wish of this lovesick heart
the morning but amplifies this-
the sweetness of the night’s embrace
on sleepless pyres were burnt our passions
on winter’s breath our dreams impaled!

Inseparability:*
Love isn’t Love
until one sees
that I am You
and You are Me
so where lies the question
of coming and going
wherever you are
there I shall be!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
What delightful alchemy this
this metamorphosis of a dream
a condition like an apsiopesis
which assumes I will be back
I inhale the fragrance of this ink
and exhale it as wine
it gives a nice toast
to our love
soaring like a lammergeier
Well in the throes of passion,
it splinters into a flower
the omphalos of which
is a moment awake
beyond rest or relaxation
may we be together forever

_ Vijayalakshmi Harish
   24.11.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
In my last poem, I has asked you'll to gift me words that I could link together into a poem. The poem above is the result of the gifts that were given. The Givers and the gifts are listed below.  I understand that some were not really intended as a "gift", but I' a rather greedy person! :) Thank you for these wonderful gifts and for the inspiration!

David : Delightful!
Mae: fragrance, inhale, exhale, dream, awake, moment, beyond, alchemy
Linda – rest
Sneha – condition
Embers – metamorphosis
the undead faerie girl – passion, apsiopesis
vircapio – omphalos
martin – well
Aditya – wine , love, flower, ink
Shaqila – love, I will be back, lammergeier, together forever
Jerry – nice
like a whispered prayer
your touch meanders
over my fevered forehead
gentle, yet strong
through my disorientation
and delirium
it’s the only thing
that feels real
and keeps me going
for this, life seems worth living
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        28.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
1.3k · Jan 2013
Soma
held helplessly in the hyponotic gaze
of the full moon i sway
the sea is the charmer’s flute
i - the drunken snake
mesmerized by this magic

the cold shock of the nightly surf surges
from the tip of my toes to
the peak of my consciousness
i’m lost
and i find myself
all in the same moment

i rise with the swell of the tide
anticipating each breaker
with closed eyes
just feeling the sandy waters swirl
******* away at the ground beneath my feet
i’d gladly fall and be swept away
i’ve let go

i am at peace

there isn’t a better feeling
there isn’t a greater pleasure
there is no where i’d rather be tonight
except with you
on this beach

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   26.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
This poem was inspired by a visit to the beach at night. You can see this poem along with a photo  at http://vijyalakshmiharish.tumblr.com/

Soma, in Sanskrit, is both:
(a) an intoxicating drink
(b) the moon, or moon-god
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