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

I’m not good at being forward
I have this habit of becoming disordered
I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve
In my aspirations I hope to find belief
I walk through jungles and rainforests
Once in a while I see through the canopy
Into the skies of my memories
And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us
I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust
My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes
Have ignored all the times I told myself lies
I may not be your ideal Superman
But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland
I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl
Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl
And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start
Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect
Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen
But I choose you! To fill my canteen
You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me
I was not made to walk in a desert
My heart is an amphibian
Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg
You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows
I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night
I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right
Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider
Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan
They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league
As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you
To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying
“You’re a real kind of gorgeous”
In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats
I found my way out of the back streets
From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear
A jungle that disappears when your presence is near
Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking
I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular
Anything normal might ruin that

It kills me to think of the thing we once had
Together we laid in the silence we shared
The magic created in the touch of a face
The love that I felt in your caring embrace
It kills me to find that this chapter has ended
Turning pages in our book we'd so carefully written
Reminiscing of times where you'd long to be near me
Now I'm lucky when I talk if you even hear me
I'll miss the warmth between us on cold summer nights
And the sound of your voice as I moved up your thighs
I'll miss laying back to back in the heat of the Sun
I'd give anything to hear you say I'm your 'one'
I know those times have passed, I need to let you go
It kills me that no more memories will be ours
You once made me feel like the most beautiful girl
On the days spent together, just me and you in the world
I love you so much, in all forms of emotion
I wish you had seen why I'd been angry and sad
I wish you remembered the things you once loved
I wish so much that I have nothing left to give
But mostly, I'll miss you, for as long as I live.

Just secret thoughts
Fleeting memories kept
Some vignettes
For someday to reflect upon
All I regret
When I couldn’t quite tell her again
How I feel
But I know I still do
I still think that it’s real
Though a dream to believe
I could be what she needs
Who she wanted from me
Was not always the person
I wanted to be

Rise up and sing
In yourself believe
Shattered is nothing
Escape this pensieve

Under the surface
Perhaps YOU'RE WORTH IT!!!

Perhaps we have made ourselves believe
That what we believe, is right, is right
And perhaps we have taken the truly pensieve
To make an effect, that minor is might

Perhaps we have forced us to only stand by the sidelines,
And watch while millions die at the blood curling battle raging by steel mines

Perhaps now we truly think that it is gray to not be involved,
To not show support, to the killing, or killed,
Perhaps we have forgotten that to watch and not lend a hand,
Is a ****** of oneself, of one's own conscience

And killed at our own hands we stand,
A lifeless life driven by greed and ignorance,
And involving in good that is now banned,
Shown by a heartless voice 'There dies millions'.