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The                 desire                    to                   create          is                 a             powerful        drug
Desire               to                      express            what        lies      ­     buzzing      inside           myself?
To                  express                what          ­   cannot      beneath     mind’s       labyrinth       hide?
Create         what                   cannot            within           a               heart        confined        flourish
Is                      lie­s                     beneath             a               truth        hidden         and              confused?
A                  buzzing            ­     mind’s            heart         hidden     behind        artful             words
Powerful    inside                  labyrinth       confined      and           artful      creative          making
Drug           myself ?                   hide?           flourish     confused?  words       making          magic!

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
   07.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
manners make the man
and the woman too
but how are the manners made?

manners are made through education
through learning from life’s hard knocks

manners are made when we strive away
even when the going gets rough

manners are made when we choose to create
when everything is turning to dust

manners are made when we cheer the day
when we seem out of luck

manners are not about being polite
not just about etiquette

manners are about attitude
about giving the world your best!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  10/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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
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
Me
Me
I am a spoof
of myself
the everythingness
stuffed in the nothingness
---till it chokes on its
own cracked breath
I’m the alpha female
the maker and the breaker
I
hang
emotionless
in
time.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
11/09/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Merry                Christmas              to                    you!
Christmas          cheer                bringing         happiness
To                      bringing            goodness          incarnate
You!                  Happiness         incarnate         being!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
    25.12.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Wishing you and all your loved ones a Merry Christmas, filled with happiness, love, peace and many beautiful times ahead!
Midnight prowler
                                will you open this door?
                              let me in, let me explore
       the concealed chambers beneath this conscious floor
let me borrow some of your dreamdust
                                                       ­                and sprinkle it in my eyes
                                                            ­          therein let me stay confined
then I
fall  and br  e  ak
and         s      c               a         t          t         e                 r
far                                                            ­              and                                                ­                         wide
                                               when this becomes a nightmare
                                                       ­              i
                                                               ­      t
                                                               ­      u
                                                               ­     m
                                                          ­          b
                                                     ­               l
                                                ­                    e
                                           ­                         t
                                      ­                              h
                                 ­                                   r
                            ­                                        o
                       ­                                             u
                  ­                                                   g
                                                               ­      h
                                                               ­       t
                                                        ­              h
                                                 ­                     e
                                          ­                           s
                                                               ­     k
                                                          ­          y
i wake up with a start, with my true love lying beside
as i see his peaceful face, i realize  
i’ve been dreaming…and everything in my world is alright!                    
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
17.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
I'm very prone to having nightmares and very often wake up right in the middle of them-very anxious and worried. But one look at my husband (who claims he has a dreamless sleep every night) and i know that everything is okay. The sense of security that his being there, even though he is fast asleep, gives me is beyond description!
I want to be a Mirror
Colourless,
Reflecting the Truth-
Invariably.
Neither Good nor Bad
Within my deep recesses
Hidden.
Showing You for
What You are,
Neither praising
Nor condemning
Light is my Life-
In darkness, I am,
Nothing.
No Pain,
No Pleasure,
Can change
The way I perceive.
Truth is my Blood,
My Nature.
In Anger You react,
Smashing me on the ground-
And I, even stronger
Look at You
Out of a Thousand Eyes-
Thousand Reflections
Of yourself.
I am a Mirror.
I am the Heart of God.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Wisps of a
fragile memory
swirl around me
fragrant, like petrichore.

Struggling out
like a tree out of a seed
breaking free from the clutches of time.

Not all at once
but in bits and pieces

Broken embers of
a once raging fire
searching for something
to set alight again.

Like life stirring
At the break of dawn
Shaking off the comforting night.

Like the shifting of the tide-
So gentle,
Hardly noticed.

Like a lost child
remembering a path
once forgotten.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
16/11/2010
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
my dreams are
the texture of the earth
softened by the monsoon
a clairvoyant fragrance rises
from the green sprouts
pushing their way through-out
and through-in
my rain-coloured mental canvas
a cool drop snakes down
my ready spine
i’m dissolved
in the frissons that ensue
even as your warmth
embraces me
every numbing night
the winds detach the flowers
from every mourning tree
and i give you myself
as you rain on me
incessantly

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   13.06.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
underneath this quite white sheet
a ghost
pretends to be
a person
with a heartbeat, a life breath
a claim at an elusive mortality
a spirit in denial of
its drained vitality
haunting unknowingly
striking fear
even as it tries to silence
the clanging chains of
its past
monsterized
it has no other identity

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  10.02.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Reality drops onto my lap-
an unwanted gift from
Newspapers, Movies, Books.
But I love my dreams,
and my myths.

I prefer
to leave puzzles
Unsolved.
Some questions
are best left
Unanswered.

Not because they hurt.
They preserve my sanity
when they remain-
Unseen
Unheard
Unsaid.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
The apparition stands out
in the background of a tyranny
the final remnants
in an empty existence.
Something cracks
and words tumble out
battling themselves.
A creeping dream withers
crumbles and dies.


The dragonflies flitter
they’re happy.
My mind flutters-
it lives.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
23/11/06.
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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
sometimes the worlds i enter
are not the worlds i’m meant to be in
i can’t deal with this pain
too piercing to be real, too solid to be fake
sometimes I regret getting into your mindspace
the chaos is too reasonable
too logical too orderly for it to be what it should
it pushes me away strong-armed memories
password protected secret files
stored in colour coded vaults
can’t break down the walls
all I want is to regress
back into myself
and stay there-rocked shut
you can’t pry me open
I’m lost in my mental pandemonium
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        14.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
dark winds of self-doubt
blow furiously today
in their sway i flee
toward those same old roads
where i sure do suffer
self-inquisition

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   10.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish,
“writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all”
― Charles Bukowski, The Last Night of the Earth Poems

Its not writer's block really...I just feel my work has become repetitive and stuck! :(
~~


                                   Playing with Bubble Wrap is Strangely Conducive to Human Cognition

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
...on second thoughts, playing with bubble wrap prompted this write, so it may not be so helpful to serious thinking!
blank
page
fluttering
in
this
periodic
breeze -
anticipates
my
story,
what
shall
I
write?

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   01.01.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
"Tomorrow is the blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one" - Brad Paisley

Here's wishing everyone on HP a wonderful New Year!!! May all of us fill our pages with the stories we want for ourselves! :)

A toast to Poetry-which binds us together! :)
the sideways glance of an evening sun
streams through the curtains .
the crepuscular light  spreads
through my home.  
the gloaming announces -
the harshness of the noon is past.
soon Diana shall reign supreme
bringing with her the restlessness
that graces my dreams
every time awakening to the same
half-formed scream that barely
struggles out of my throat
choking joy on its way out.
once more the same dew will
glisten in my eyes
as the lullaby of relief
cantillates me to repose

tomorrow i resurrect

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   14.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
i have it with me yet
that pink-white morning rose-
browned now but still fragrant
with memories of your gentleness
retaining even now
a trace of the care that i know
you must have lavished upon it
before you gave it to me
it lies flattened between the pages of
Little Women
i dare not move it from there
for fear that the petals will crumble
a sole physical reminder
of something shared
a comforter when i am
in a pensive mood
feeling like i’ve lost
that nothing is going my way
i look between the pages
to find a smile
and a tear
share equal space
on my nostalgic face

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
    22.01.2013
    Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Thank you Aditya for the idea and Kirti for the title suggestion!
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
Packetfuls of some morning long gone
Celebrations of some relations long lost
Appraisals of youth long withered
Dying of some laughter long forgotten
Yellowed photographs newly rediscovered.

As if after the hesitation of two decades
They’ve resurfaced out of a rusty old box
Freshly etching old patterns, repainting innocence
A revision of life… what if….what if not….
Some strange spirit of myself smiles back at me

“Is that me?” leading on to “Who am I?”
Existential discomfort set alight
The sleepless questions- twisting and turning
Memories in my head- swimming and swirling

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
     16/06/2007
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Something happy within me sings
lightly like the butterfly’s wings
as it gently, s  l   o   w   l   y   sways
above
and
alone
on the beach
always out of  reach
of sadness and decay
so full of life
each grain of sand
t-h-r-o-b-bi-n-g  
even in the most
iron heart
the pulse that excites and propels
                                         rise
the masses                        and
                               ­                                                  fall                  like              
  a                   v
                                                    e
w        ­                                                              s

­like a cloud on a sunny day
joyous and
lonely
all at once
what is this i hear
the thunder or spray
the salty wafts
that envelopes
beautyandsadness
that join to create
something so wondrous
sometimes i am like the brine
blue and gray
collecting my thoughts like i
collect shells
sometimes i am like the butterfly
blissful and content
But always i am.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
18.08.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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
I want to live in the embrace
of these rain clouds so ominous so dark
and yet within them somewhere
there must be a spark
why else to they set alight such illicit pleasure

the drizzle burns upon my skin
and glistens like a diadem in my hair
petrichor teasing gently before the shower brings
a volley of dreams crashing down here
a bird within my chest sings

a mizzle is just not enough
the darkness without echoes the darkness within
I want a deluge, I want to drown
want to be borne away and lose control
want to stand in the rain and feel this sweet pain

I just want to feel – don’t want to think
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        11.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
A seashell
within a seashell
within a seashell
maybe i’m the pearl,
maybe i’m the grain of sand
how would you know
what i am?

layers upon layers
of calcified shine
years upon years
of soaking in the brine

till the scent of the sea
is in my blood
and the song of the whales
is my voice

hold me close to your ear
listen to me sometime
i’ll whisper to you secrets
in oceany rhyme

and if you feel my gentle heat
radiating in your palm
know that it is me
telling you who i am

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
17.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
random nonsense inspired by my cover photo...
blue shards of time
inching and pinching through
some (hidden) remembrance
this stickilyooziness that runs in my veins
one lazy  drop
               by
             drop
collecting in a pensieve
shattering through the myths-
(that is where the shards came from)
The dreams are concrete
touchably real
the images swirl
their spinality affirmed
in the red ache that sears
recall on skewers
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
30.08.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
distended the pearls are red and uncovered
upon my mistakes. erasure taunts.

something stirs unbidden strangely
familiarity dissolves in tears

suddenly distant the sun streaks
through the black waves

nothing works anymore

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
         02.01.2013
        Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
some people
are like dried red chillies -
dangerous looking.
when in hot oil
they jump, splutter,
threaten and make a lot of noise
but then
you realize
that their heat is impotent
as the seeds inside
are quite dead

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   30.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
the world looks depressing -
it means my spectacles need cleaning!

-Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
cups of warm tea
shared together
over dog eared pages
on a cemented bench
covered with leaves
raindrops singing in tandem
to a rhythm known only to frogs
and here we sit
staring into the mist
wrapped in the warm blanket of silence

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
27.12.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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
i love to write poetry with food
the clickety-clack of the knife on the dining board is my metre
the veggies going choppity-chop are the words
the masalas are the embellishments
that lift them to another level altogether
the pressure cooker whistles,
something in the frying pan sizzles
the flavours rise and fill my home
with the smell of cooking
the gravy thickens
the pulse quickens
in anticipation of the tasting
the aromas tease as i’m tempering
a little coriander for the topping
and I’m done!
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   09.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
"There is no sincerer love than the love of food." - George Bernard Shaw.
Just realized that a foodie like me hasn't written any poems about food! Had to set that right!
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
amidst the chaos
he gazes with stony eyes
stillness in movement

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   15.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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
the clouds bloom
like mysterious flowers
seeming  to survive by soaking up
the tears of the waiting multitude.
they churn the wind
causing it to blow through
my every cell
filtering through my every pore
as i abandon any hope
of maintaining some adult-like dignity
the puddles call
the rain falls
and i let myself go

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   10.07.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
yesterday’s tormentor
is todays peace-keeper
strange are the ways of this world
stranger still are my own perceptions
now here, now there
they prance about

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   08.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
punctured egos don't last long
they fade away like the mist
of ignorance

punctured wounds hurt but they heal
like broken hearts
over time

punctured love is an unbearable pain
till we find
love again

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  07/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
drenched
feathers-
my
inner
raven
berates
monsoon;
                                                                ­            avoiding
                                            ­                                cloud’s
                                                                ­       melancholy
                                                      ­                        gaze
                                    ­                                                                 ­                                                        awaiting
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                sun’s
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                              embrace

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  30.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Just need some sunshine now!
sustain inner spirit
through the winds of time
the changes will sweep
you through eternity
                                       ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते
                                       पूर्णश्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥
                                       ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥

but sustain yourself
through love and hate
sustain through destiny
through monotonous fate

countless rewinds and
fast forwards  -
life is always
the same old play

and one day rise
above it all
onwards towards Brahman
with yourself reunite

            Om, That is Complete, This is also Complete, From Completeness rises that Completeness
            From Completeness Subtract Completeness, and Completeness Remains
            Om Peace, Peace, Peace.


-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  05.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
We call it “peacock hill”
I love this misty humidity that hangs here
sunlight barely peeking through; lovely mossy ground and wet leaves
turning to mulch under our tramping feet, we hear the peacocks call
in their unique tone - musical, alluring and promising
of a rare treat to the eyes,  I’m only six years old, walking by your side,
and I don’t realize that in my excitement to collect peacock feathers-
i’m missing the peacocks for the feathers
and
I’m missing your company for the peacocks

and somehow if I could turn back time, i’d like to make that right
pay more attention to you, than to silly feathers or birds, beautiful though they are
just soak in the moment, and be with you completely
so that years later, when we live so far away
i’d look back on this moment with a lot less regret
and be glad, that we father and daughter
had some great times together

-Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
When I was a young girl, my father would take me to a place that we liked to call "peacock hill", since peacocks could be spotted there. I remember very little of it unfortunately :(
My parents and I live in different cites now, and I really miss them sometimes..like today!
a princess sits in her royal lounge
troubled at mind, restless of heart
trembling limbs and parched tongue
the rivers in her eyes betray
the sorrow that drowns her soul
with shaking fingers she struggles
for a firm grip on her quill
her heart pours out in fluid words
to express a love nursed for years

“My Lord, from childhood I have heard
of your courageous acts and kind character
of your handsomeness and perfectness
and I am unable to draw my mind away
from thoughts of you and yours
I am shamelessly besotted by you
Like a sunflower that is drawn to the sun
I am drawn to you
It is against the common notion
for a woman to ask a man
to take her hand in marriage
I break every tradition,
but Mukunda, answer my question-
which woman, high-born
and well-versed in all the arts,
will not wish to be your consort-
and besides I have already considered myself
wedded to you, in thought and spirit
is it not immoral then
when I consider myself a married woman
and when I am already yours
body, mind and soul,
to allow me another marriage?
My brother Rukmi has arranged
a marriage for me, and it is in the morrow
my heart sinks in sorrow
you are my saviour-
it behooves you to come
and claim what is yours
and how to accomplish it without needless bloodshed
need not cause you worry, for I have a plan
tomorrow morning I shall go for my pre-nuptial prayer
at the temple in the outskirts
away from curious eyes
and it is from there
that you can take me
please do come Krishna and save me
from this mockery of a marriage
I have already said that I am yours
and if you do not come, I shall
with no second thought ensure
that I am no longer alive
to be the object of another man’s desire
and if not in this birth, we shall
in another birth be man and wife”


she seals the letter with  burning tears
and entrusts in a priest’s willing hands to deliver
this receptacle of her hopes and fears
a sliver of hope begins to glimmer
as exhaustion finally takes over
and sleep beckons with gentle hands
to distant happier lands

In the morning she awakes
mind no more clouded or deluded
a faith unshaken that strengthens
as her messenger arrives
bearing happy news
her heart gladdens

Krishna will come – of that she is sure
a love denied will now be hers
the blush of excitement gives way
to shyness - kept so far at bay
the letter was written boldly enough
but now her maiden coyness asserts its sway
with eager pulsing heart she awaits
the moment of freedom and fastening
with her love – it seems too long a day!

In her best finery she is bedecked
a bride blossoming like a flower
eyes shining like diamonds
in their excitement
nocturnal hair that falls to her waist
in a tidy plait
lips tinged with a secret smile
an accompaniment to her glowing face
her blush spreads
like a rose amongst jasmines

with slow sure steps
and comely gait
eyes glistening with hope
and conviction strengthened with faith
she proceeds towards the temple
with sincere emotion she prays

“Devi Parvati, with your motherly grace
look upon me with your kind gaze
as once through penance you gained
your true love as a husband
I too embark today
on a quest to find my way
to him who is my very soul- I pray
let Krishna me my husband”


As every minute passes hope grows
and then she hears his majestic roar
like  a dark thunder-cloud he appears
his turmeric vestment blowing in the wind
and like lighting in the night sky
suddenly and nimbly he hoists her
onto his chariot and they are away

and then the powerful anticipation of this moment gave way
to its pure enjoyment, the company of the loved one

and thus it was that the unflinching Rukmini
wedded Krishna one day.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        10.9.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
salvation is too far
                   too d
                         e
                         e
                         p in the throes of
some pain that never leaves

the torture is still somehow sweet
this ache of a loss
destined to boomerang
when it does
salvation will come
with freedom
Step 1:  to let go.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  30.08.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
When your Name
was appended to mine,
My parents said-
“It’s for your security.”
Blinded by my Veil;
I couldn’t see-
It was a false promise.

In your embrace, I wanted to thrive,
to flourish, to live.
But I was pushed aside-
A bud that died,
Not blossoming
Into a flower.

When I asked for Freedom,
you gave me Abandonment.
When I asked for a Voice
to express myself-
you gave me Screams of Anguish.
When I asked to be Loved;
you gave me Pain.

I lie here now,
A discarded rag
Without an identity.
Keeping me company
are the scars on my arms-
Scars- a gift of
your undying love for me?

- Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
This is the poem for which I won the first prize at Ananya- an intercollegiate fest hosted by Sophia’s college, Mumbai on December 16th, 2005.
All participants were shown some photographs(with captions). Participants were told to choose one of them and write a poem about it on the spot.
The picture that I chose depicted a woman in a burqa, lying on the ground with her hand spread out as if she was trying to reach out to someone. The setting was of some dilapidated area, with tall and long brick walls on both sides. The picture had the caption- “ Isolated and Anonymous, to whom can she turn?”.
On the basis of the picture and the caption given I wrote the above poem
a wasp flew a straight line
from its nest to me
cloaked in puny sunshine
it thought itself to be free
unheard was its buzzing
unseen its rainbow wings
untold was what it carried
i only felt it sting
the suspension like a drawn sword
cut through the silence within
the absence of feeling retrieved
was healed by the relief of loss
an epitaph if to be given
would affirm the infinity of the end
a promise given in portions
partitioned to satisfaction
make one see through the gloss
to the plainness within
that grieves in honour and truth
shedding tears of blood
it tastes the purest fruit
in the acceptance of its pain
lies the moral of our story

- Sneha Iyer & Vijayalakshmi Harish
   04.01.2012
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish & Sneha Iyer
Co-written with my friend and sister Sneha Iyer (http://hellopoetry.com/-sneha-iyer/)  :)
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
Wisdom
displays
grey
disguise
                                    it­
                                  lies

                      ­                            
truly
a
love
child
of
experience
mating
expertise

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   12.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
gently spiced dreams invite me-
come in and take a peek
look within, search for yourself
get lost in this fragrant wonderland
explore the cliffs in your mind
off which the waterfall of your thoughts rush down
in mighty, uncontrollable torrents
full of a refreshing energy-positive, powerful
swirling around, connecting to the inner caves
within which lies the buried treasure of your secrets
some, waiting to be excavated and shared
others wanting to be buried deeper
but overall it’s a happy place, come every night
rediscover yourself, every time.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   03.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
the paper feels jilted
the pen seems to have abandoned him
he misses her tickling caress
she was always an adulteress
frolicking with the fingers that held her

                                                            ­                     paper, pen , fingers
                                                         ­          they were an exciting *******


                                                   ­         if only he knew
                                                            ­                                                                 ­          the pen weeps her inky tears
                                                           ­                                                                 ­             she has lost both her lovers-
                                                         ­                                                                 ­the paper lies too far off, too distant
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                  in her sorrow she is spent
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                         unable to touch him
                                           she was first and foremost always his
                                    the fingers were just a necessary flirtation
                                        but now even the fingers have found
                                                      more fertile ground?

Meanwhile the fingers come
in ecstatic betrayal
sexting with the keyboard
wham bam thank you ma’m
                                                            ­    and its done

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  26/10/.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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