"iyer" poems
I swallowed her and now
She lives inside me or I live
Through her, we are alive.
I’m her friend, her teenage
And fantasies, a sixty year old-
Hair and books she ever read
Long distance phone calls
And delight matched our
Love for Sujata, Mr And Mrs Iyer
And I sat on her couch on my
Despised vacations sketching
Letters to Milena, Quabbani
And we spoke of her brothers,
Generations and cafes I went.
I’m Delhi, Bangalore and
Endless conversations-
She never met and she’s my
Lost Malayalam, postcards and
A world so familiar, a childhood.
Hold your breath and relax
I’m going to stay and listen
Till you are out of stories and
I repeat, remind and you smile.
I’ll get you melodies and 60s
Harold Robbins and Nutan,
Your weirdness and aloofness.
You don’t grow old with me
I’ll live, I promise as your fonts
Visit places you walked and
Write to you all, deep- blue
Letters, deep- blue-letters.
You are my first high-heels
Strawberry fields and music system
I’ll recite you a love story
Picture him as our classic heroes
And giggle as girls sixteen and
Seventeen. You swallowed me
And I live through you, we’re alive.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
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
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
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 akku Vijayalakshmi Harish :)
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
Hey 2020, you gave us Corona,
Hey 2020, you gave us Nisarga,
Hey 2020, you gave us Amphan,
Hey 2020, you gave us racism,
Hey 2020, you gave us Hanta,
Hey 2020, you gave us locusts.
2020 we realized that you are tough but my darling we are tougher.
We hope we will successfully mould you into good one.
--Jayalalita B Iyer
Jun 4, 2020
Jun 4, 2020 at 12:19 AM UTC
This quarantine teached us manythings,
Work can be done without going to office,
Importance of humans,
Food should not be wasted,
Teaching online,
How to value human beings,
Cleanliness is very important.
Yes, this quarantine teached us many Things.
--Jayalalita B Iyer
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 1:36 AM UTC