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"harish" poems
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
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Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
Monsoon Nights
a miracle child born to a mortal mother ***the creator pretends to be the created*** stealing butter, breaking pots, teasing girls, Gokulam’s naughtiest child and then one day the friends complain “Mother Yashoda, your little one is eating mud from the Yamuna banks” worried she rushes to her darling boy her anxiety disguised as anger he smiles - the sly little blue-eyed boy in his musical voice he cries- “I did not eat mud, sweet mother, the boys lie! ***come look within and see with your own eyes!”*** poor Mother Yashoda not knowing she stared into that little mouth and lost herself in what was there he lifted swiftly the veil of maaya the truth shone forth with a blinding light!                                                   *** त्वमेव माता च पिता त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव बन्धुश्च सखा त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव विद्या द्रविणम् त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव सर्वम् मम देव देव ॥*** she saw herself and her dear little boy the whole of Gokulam within his jaws lay! and the whole earth and the universe galaxies and multiple worlds was her little boy cursed? her fear mounted as she saw the entire cosmos the boundaries blurred time - a non-entity the past, present and future only a tiny river she saw the vast expanse of his creation he made these worlds held them like puppets on a string and then morphing he became death! and unable to take more she swooned when the Creator, the Preserver and the Destroyer merged to become-her adored little one!                                                     *** You are my mother, and my father                                                      You are my relative and my friend                                                      You are knowledge, You are prosperity                                                      You are my everything, My God of Gods*** and then he looked at her with an infinite compassion he’d shown her what she needed to see now it was time for her to forget, to become his doting mother again he kisses her with innocent love and toothy grin once more maaya takes hold the illusion more beautiful more irresistible to behold! - Vijayalakshmi Harish          04.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
Krishna dazzles his mother
a miracle child born to a mortal mother ***the creator pretends to be the created*** stealing butter, breaking pots, teasing girls, Gokulam’s naughtiest child and then one day the friends complain “Mother Yashoda, your little one is eating mud from the Yamuna banks” worried she rushes to her darling boy her anxiety disguised as anger he smiles - the sly little blue-eyed boy in his musical voice he cries- “I did not eat mud, sweet mother, the boys lie! ***come look within and see with your own eyes!”*** poor Mother Yashoda not knowing she stared into that little mouth and lost herself in what was there he lifted swiftly the veil of maaya the truth shone forth with a blinding light!                                                   *** त्वमेव माता च पिता त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव बन्धुश्च सखा त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव विद्या द्रविणम् त्वमेव ।                                                    त्वमेव सर्वम् मम देव देव ॥*** she saw herself and her dear little boy the whole of Gokulam within his jaws lay! and the whole earth and the universe galaxies and multiple worlds was her little boy cursed? her fear mounted as she saw the entire cosmos the boundaries blurred time - a non-entity the past, present and future only a tiny river she saw the vast expanse of his creation he made these worlds held them like puppets on a string and then morphing he became death! and unable to take more she swooned when the Creator, the Preserver and the Destroyer merged to become-her adored little one!                                                     *** You are my mother, and my father                                                      You are my relative and my friend                                                      You are knowledge, You are prosperity                                                      You are my everything, My God of Gods*** and then he looked at her with an infinite compassion he’d shown her what she needed to see now it was time for her to forget, to become his doting mother again he kisses her with innocent love and toothy grin once more maaya takes hold the illusion more beautiful more irresistible to behold! - Vijayalakshmi Harish          04.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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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
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 6:52 AM UTC
Pearls or Sand?
Life gets better - so much better that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you but before that happens you’ll learn some lessons some of them will be fun others bitter medicine swallow them though they’ll make you strong don’t beat yourself up so much don’t put yourself down you are actually pretty awesome don’t obsess so much about being the best the less you do that the better you’ll become there is no such thing as “perfect” but you will be excellent you’ll be quite an overachiever – even when you don’t try! You already know what you want to do Not many 15 year olds have that kind of clarity! You’re a rare, unique one – you’ll do exactly what you dream to do. But there will be speed bumps You’ll lose your way sometimes and confused Gemini that you are- you’ll always want both sides of everything but you’ll figure that out eventually you will never be as thin as you want to be but you’ll learn to appreciate your body just as it is you’ll find you look beautiful when you smile you’ll have a job you hate, and one that you love you’ll do well in both- much to other people’s envy you’ll mostly have good bosses you’ll never have a boyfriend, your marriage will be arranged but you will find love-the love of a good man who will stand by you even when things go wrong he won’t at all be like the man of your dreams but he will be exactly what you need-he’ll make you happy! what I’m trying to tell you darling- is that in ten years all the stuff you’re worrying about won’t matter you’ll find new things to fuss over. High school will be a distant land That you would have left behind The bullies who trouble you now won’t be anywhere near you’ll see that its okay to be an introvert in an extraverted world you’ll make a handful of super-friends who you can trust and who care and many acquaintances who don’t mind your company but there will be some who you can’t trust some who will take advantage of your kindness ignore them and move on there is more important stuff to take care of! your writing will get better; you’ll be a super cook, you’ll never like sports-stop trying to its just not you! in a few years time you’ll be touching lives and changing them for the better you’ll be a teacher and a student all at once you’ll inspire and influence so don’t give up on life yet- don’t be so depressed wear a smile and face the world your life is going to be all set! - Vijayalakshmi Harish 08.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
What I would tell my 15 year old self
Life gets better - so much better that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you but before that happens you’ll learn some lessons some of them will be fun others bitter medicine swallow them though they’ll make you strong don’t beat yourself up so much don’t put yourself down you are actually pretty awesome don’t obsess so much about being the best the less you do that the better you’ll become there is no such thing as “perfect” but you will be excellent you’ll be quite an overachiever – even when you don’t try! You already know what you want to do Not many 15 year olds have that kind of clarity! You’re a rare, unique one – you’ll do exactly what you dream to do. But there will be speed bumps You’ll lose your way sometimes and confused Gemini that you are- you’ll always want both sides of everything but you’ll figure that out eventually you will never be as thin as you want to be but you’ll learn to appreciate your body just as it is you’ll find you look beautiful when you smile you’ll have a job you hate, and one that you love you’ll do well in both- much to other people’s envy you’ll mostly have good bosses you’ll never have a boyfriend, your marriage will be arranged but you will find love-the love of a good man who will stand by you even when things go wrong he won’t at all be like the man of your dreams but he will be exactly what you need-he’ll make you happy! what I’m trying to tell you darling- is that in ten years all the stuff you’re worrying about won’t matter you’ll find new things to fuss over. High school will be a distant land That you would have left behind The bullies who trouble you now won’t be anywhere near you’ll see that its okay to be an introvert in an extraverted world you’ll make a handful of super-friends who you can trust and who care and many acquaintances who don’t mind your company but there will be some who you can’t trust some who will take advantage of your kindness ignore them and move on there is more important stuff to take care of! your writing will get better; you’ll be a super cook, you’ll never like sports-stop trying to its just not you! in a few years time you’ll be touching lives and changing them for the better you’ll be a teacher and a student all at once you’ll inspire and influence so don’t give up on life yet- don’t be so depressed wear a smile and face the world your life is going to be all set! - Vijayalakshmi Harish 08.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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The camera captures your smile, your laughter, your posture but it can't catch what I catch when i'm with you the warmth in your smile the joy in your laughter and the comfort that you give me when you stand with me - Vijayalakshmi Harish 03/08/2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
Camera
Familiar voices blur and dissolve In the cauldron of time. Distant and Distorted the fumes rise and metamorphose into Animals with Masks. Pull them off! Rip them! Expose their naked monstrous faces They run for cover. One old witch predicts success Another fame And a third- fortune I lose myself in the past and the future; the present- a suspended moment That does not exist. - Vijayalakshmi Harish Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 10:00 AM UTC
Lady Macbeth
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
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
Revisited Memory : On "Peacock Hill" with Appa
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
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Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 6:29 AM UTC
Manners
over a snow-covered mountain top in heaven some secret river lies stirring not earthwards this river of the Gods and then a prince disturbs her peaceful ferocity with determined prayer to cleanse the sins of his forefathers Look she trembles with wounded pride! Not a mere mortal river is she a Goddess, her anger awakened but she must proceed the Gods have asked her so she shall go but she makes her displeasure known threatening to swallow all of existence she follows the earth shakes it cannot hold her weight her power her strength her majestic gait life-giver, she is now a messenger of death in her anger she is beautiful, this world cannot sustain her only he who wields the trident can reign in her fall and then the Mahadev traps her even as she falls in a mighty torrent thinking she will sweep him to the nether regions in his locks she is lost struggling, she resembles the naga around his neck she spits like a cobra this immortal river stays tangled in his locks for many a year till, defeated and frustrated she begs forgiveness and then with his blessings she trickles down still furious in pace but in heart at peace the mother of all rivers- this river of rebirth her sound like thunder her hair like streaks of lightning celestial beings witness the skies are lit the parched earth satiated Ganga has descended as Bhagirathi - Vijayalakshmi Harish          03.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:32 AM UTC
The Arrival of the Ganges
You tease, excite entice me surely promise to melt slowly eager tongue can’t bear waiting illicit desire awakens, pulling myself back you though, stronger one, seductively luring me you deliciously forbidden serving of chocolate ice cream! Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
Submission (Pyramid)
I’m peccable not impeccable prone to making mistakes to falling down and getting up                                                                                     i keep to myself                                                                                    i’ll hide behind the scenes                                                                                   i don’t always like to talk                                                                                    always preferring to listen to anything you want to say my life is dances to a rhythm known only to myself there is a routine (home-work home) in the chaos everything else gets fit in somehow                                                                                                                                           you’d never even notice me in a crowd                                                                                                   certainly not the life of the party                                                                                                   you’d never even miss me                                                                                                   i was hardly there in the first place there is never a plan just an agreement with myself to cross every bridge when I come to it my plans are too messy to be reliable                                                                                                   you won’t find anyone who knows me really                                                                                                 difficult to be understood                                                                                                but eager to understand                                                                                                to lend a helping hand i live mostly inside my own head making up stories as i go along open to every kind of ending always exploring some new idea                                                                                                       my inner world is what charges my batteries                                                                                                       its here that everything comes alive                                                                                                        where electric stuff happens                                                                                                        and possibilities come pouring out                                       I live for the people and the things that matter to me                                       for my inner light that guides me                                     between what I am and what I do                                        i insist on integrity                                                          - Vijayalakshmi Harish    09.10.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
INFP
I’m peccable not impeccable prone to making mistakes to falling down and getting up                                                                                     i keep to myself                                                                                    i’ll hide behind the scenes                                                                                   i don’t always like to talk                                                                                    always preferring to listen to anything you want to say my life is dances to a rhythm known only to myself there is a routine (home-work home) in the chaos everything else gets fit in somehow                                                                                                                                           you’d never even notice me in a crowd                                                                                                   certainly not the life of the party                                                                                                   you’d never even miss me                                                                                                   i was hardly there in the first place there is never a plan just an agreement with myself to cross every bridge when I come to it my plans are too messy to be reliable                                                                                                   you won’t find anyone who knows me really                                                                                                 difficult to be understood                                                                                                but eager to understand                                                                                                to lend a helping hand i live mostly inside my own head making up stories as i go along open to every kind of ending always exploring some new idea                                                                                                       my inner world is what charges my batteries                                                                                                       its here that everything comes alive                                                                                                        where electric stuff happens                                                                                                        and possibilities come pouring out                                       I live for the people and the things that matter to me                                       for my inner light that guides me                                     between what I am and what I do                                        i insist on integrity                                                          - Vijayalakshmi Harish    09.10.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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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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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
*** Lies and Betrayal
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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and the poet said to the mountaineer don’t look at the peak as a goal to be conquered look at it instead as a loved one to be adored and explored and it shall be yours forever - 03.01.2013         Vijayalakshmi Harish        Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
True Achievement
I asked my inner writer, Is your prose poetic? Or your poetry prosaic? And my inner writer asked me, Are you traditional with modern values? Or are you modern with traditional values? Are you an introvert who loves to express? Or an extravert who loves silences? Are you an optimist who sees the clouds? Or a pessimist who sees rainbows? Are you thoughtful with some light-hearted ways? Or humourous with some sober ways? And on and on and on and on And on and on it went. I'll never ask my inner writer About writing Again. -Vijayalakshmi Harish 24.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
A Writer’s Dilemma (A Serious Parody of the poem “Zebra Question” by Shel Silverstein)
here i await the dawn’s first light to shrug off the cool caress of the moonbeams silver tinged, fingernailish beauty i am a lustrous princess of the deep yet i’m here on this sandy beach for you sunbeam i’d gladly leave my home, my hearth, everything that speaks familiarity to welcome your strangeness soak myself in it, imbibe it, as i have loved the brine now i wish to fly with you on your gold-tipped wings redolent of your perfumed warmth so then sunshine, shall we elope? - Vijayalakshmi Harish 25.02.2013. Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
A Seashell's Love Story
contemplate again!                        nothing                       accords                        with                      cerebral                  understanding impressions survive; actualities disappear - ***personalities s   c   a   t   t   e   r icons*** -Vijayalakshmi Harish 11.10.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
Impressionism (Word Sonnet)
in the ***** of the silver waves grew a single water lily speckless and spotless the colour of pure milk a private bud, it lay unopened till the night it blossomed complete, open, a whorl of whiteness! exquisite in its secluded state it pondered sadly on its fate alone – awash with an awful ache it looked upwards towards the great black lake so much similar to its own address with just one exception that made the biggest difference like a mirror leading on to a parallel universe another swirl of bright white flowered not alone but surrounded by many young buds! how wonderful thought the lily how cheerful that bloom must be to live thus accompanied by family so pining it withered feeling unloved, unwanted never knowing that from above the moon watched wailing “how full of life was that lovely flower alas! alas! how I loved her! never could I have the courage to tell her she - a brightness lit from within and i a mere rock with no light of my own” - Vijayalakshmi Harish 25.01.2013 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
The Water-Lily and the Moon
one who basks in the soft heat of grandiose moonliness growing fatter on honeyed imaginations their sicklysweetness soaking through the pores of countless generations their minds invade a collective consciousness burning arcs of inspiration – torches of the collective vision in drilling through mutual experience great gaping black holes of creation effigies of super-egos, lynched on altars of desire neon flames and disco lights, emotions on a massive pyre maiden voyagers on never-ending cruise sinking in foreign oceans – their endurance dupes minor gods of destiny and fate they await dionysian ****** of wine and food for thought and hearts that beat in unison a schizoid muttering that enlarges and deafens manic pleasure that spins and spins in eternal circles of pleasure and pain, loss  and gain opioid mists that dream a dream of everlasting name an addiction an obsession that sumbits to some masochistic drive to empathize. - Vijayalakshmi Harish         06.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
a poet is...
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
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Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 5:03 AM UTC
Perfectionism
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
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Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 2:27 AM UTC
Reincarnation
this swirling roaring wind that blows homeward from the sea                                          saltiness with eucalyptus blending in twisting my fear                                                 the knots in my chest and stomach entangling                                                       deadly mocktail of emotions surging                                                           with every  howling whoosh                                                                   a new green life falls breaking                                                                               life prematurely ending                                                                                  storm violently shaking                                                                                     every limb of every tree                                                                         an attempt to blow anxiety                                                                         into each living breath                                                                                  a drenched vision                                                                                      of a couple of crows                                                                                    seemingly meditating                                                                             in the midst of the tempest                                                                      holding their own                                                                                   ***in the eye                                                                                 of the storm                                                                                   they find                                                                                      Peace*** - Vijayalakshmi Harish    01.11.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
Detachment
this swirling roaring wind that blows homeward from the sea                                          saltiness with eucalyptus blending in twisting my fear                                                 the knots in my chest and stomach entangling                                                       deadly mocktail of emotions surging                                                           with every  howling whoosh                                                                   a new green life falls breaking                                                                               life prematurely ending                                                                                  storm violently shaking                                                                                     every limb of every tree                                                                         an attempt to blow anxiety                                                                         into each living breath                                                                                  a drenched vision                                                                                      of a couple of crows                                                                                    seemingly meditating                                                                             in the midst of the tempest                                                                      holding their own                                                                                   ***in the eye                                                                                 of the storm                                                                                   they find                                                                                      Peace*** - Vijayalakshmi Harish    01.11.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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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
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
Creative Vampire (Square Stanza)
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
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 12:03 PM UTC
self exploration
don’t you know that it was you who like the Pied Piper drew me here to this cross road where my ideas collided with you in a state of bewildered joy pleasant surprise in spite of some inherent shyness; a tendency towards introversion would not stop this flow of words even as the cloak of anonymity fell apart like a bee finds the nectar that it is due Stranger, i found you. - Vijayalakshmi Harish 12.02.2013 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
Stranger
brittle waves crash like china plates who do they argue with? the moon, who is their father the sea-their mother their soulmate, an unseen river, or me? i am but an detached observer of this play of passionate fervour - Vijayalakshmi Harish   03.02.2013   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:17 AM UTC
Angry Waves