I hold my breath, I cannot breathe
I'd rather have yours,
For in the depths of my love
There's no need to be voluntary
For in the shallow of my passion
There's nothing greater than love
Hold on to my senses,
Give me your mind
As I have come to become
A fragment of your heart
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Jiffies
Elivitaci 29-9-2005
My elivitaci is something you can
interpret any way you want
it can be a woman or a man
or a little child Upon a high building
It could be you
Screaming in terror
Or my heart so true
To myself
Or something you read
Like a book on my shelf
Or maybe a snake
Or even a bird
Or my elivitaci could be
just another word
HOPE!! 28-8-2005
never hope
to elope
with the pope
cause you are a dope
and you will not cope
even if you wash yourself with soap
tied to a rope
nope.
never hope.
to elope.
with the pope
{by the way.....this is inspirational poetry thanks to gwen and rochelle and gwen's livestrong band that said "hope"......thanks gals!}
A Day 10-8-2005
another day,
not as bad as the rest
it was ok,
but not the best.
so bored was i
to write accounts.
when the day got over
my joy knew no bounds.
My elivitaci is something you can
interpret any way you want
it can be a woman or a man
or a little child Upon a high building
It could be you
Screaming in terror
Or my heart so true
To myself
Or something you read
Like a book on my shelf
Or maybe a snake
Or even a bird
Or my elivitaci could be
just another word
HOPE!! 28-8-2005
never hope
to elope
with the pope
cause you are a dope
and you will not cope
even if you wash yourself with soap
tied to a rope
nope.
never hope.
to elope.
with the pope
{by the way.....this is inspirational poetry thanks to gwen and rochelle and gwen's livestrong band that said "hope"......thanks gals!}
A Day 10-8-2005
another day,
not as bad as the rest
it was ok,
but not the best.
so bored was i
to write accounts.
when the day got over
my joy knew no bounds.
Cold
Cold
Oh jeez! Oh jeez!
I’ve got the sniffy wheeze
Such terrible, terrible cold
The evil oh-so-bold.
Help! I think I’m losing my nerves
Each loud and nasty sneeze,
Behind each breathy wheeze,
Creates a pandemonic hustle
Within the bodies fat and muscle
And battling, from fat, they turn to curves.
Oh Tumor! So benign,
Or malignant with time
And the deadly, deadly Cancer,
The wicked, wicked prancer.
Even you, so blood thirsty, have a cure!
But cold, oh-so-common,
Catching John, Eva and Norman
Alike with fathers and mothers
Daughters, sons and all the others,
We can’t get rid of you, that’s one thing for sure.
Mr. Cold! Mr. Cold!
The stranger of the viral fold
What kind of man is he?
Who drains human energy?
And with none is he ever so formal.
Seven days of nasal leak
(Boy! That’s sneezing for a week!)
Fighting the deadly virus out,
Throughout this dirty, phlegm-filled bout,
I go through, till I become normal.
~~
This poem is a tribute, to my eternal boyfriend, Mr.Cold
~~
The Night of the Knights
Through day and night, fools! We unite.
Oh, how we fight! Oh, how we fight!
To claim our every right,
Before the end of the night.
The cold, frosty, it bites
As we prepare our victory kites,
Fireworks, lamps and lights,
To brighten the coming nights.
We pity our enemy’s plight
We pity them with every sight
For today, after the break of twilight
Our faces will smile wide and bright
And exult in unending delight!
Our joyous union will be a sight
That will please any knave or knight
And surely anyone it will excite.
For we would have seen the rival’s flight
And laughed and laughed with all our might
And we’ll roll on the floor before we’re all right
And leave a legend for others to write
Since in war there’s no need to be polite
And your job is to go any height
To scare your foe completely ghost-white
Before you finally get rid of him and say, “Good Night!”
Oh, how we fight! Oh, how we fight!
To claim our every right,
Before the end of the night.
The cold, frosty, it bites
As we prepare our victory kites,
Fireworks, lamps and lights,
To brighten the coming nights.
We pity our enemy’s plight
We pity them with every sight
For today, after the break of twilight
Our faces will smile wide and bright
And exult in unending delight!
Our joyous union will be a sight
That will please any knave or knight
And surely anyone it will excite.
For we would have seen the rival’s flight
And laughed and laughed with all our might
And we’ll roll on the floor before we’re all right
And leave a legend for others to write
Since in war there’s no need to be polite
And your job is to go any height
To scare your foe completely ghost-white
Before you finally get rid of him and say, “Good Night!”
The Tribal Bet
Upon a hill in Inca land,
Long before the Incas did stand
Stood a tipi inside of which
Sat a warlock, the chief male witch.
Upon his lap lay his daughter,
Who thought about her love: An archer.
Tears streamed down her doe-like eyes;
Her father had questioned; she hated to tell lies.
The one she loved from her heart so true,
Was one her father wouldn't accept, she knew.
Belonged to another tribe he did.
For him to be summoned the warlock had bid.
Six hundred seconds and three thousand did pass
But the lover of the tribal lass
Did not appear. Her hands trembled.
"Where is he?" when asked, for words she fumbled
And then gathering all her confidence
Spoke like a man in loud prudence,
"He is not a coward, he does care
To wake his sleeping lion do not dare.
Arise, awake oh Gods of the Earth,
Unless for him , of my love, there be any dearth.
Challenge him not, don't treat him a fool
For I vow he will come today before the sun does cool
And if he does not, take my head
Slay me, and give me no bed
Instead, cut me in pieces of pounds
And feed me to the wolves and hounds."
No sooner than these words were said
CAme the sound of a horse's tread
More like a gallop that the earth shook
And people came out to take a look
A stately figure controlled the horse
Bearing bow and quiver, he rode without pause
And pause he did when he reached a line.
"This line does divide your boundary from mine,"
He spoke, holding high his chin
"Have I your permission to come in?"
A nod from the warlock, and the lad jumped down
And placed his foot into the new town.
The warlock observed him from head to toe.
Whether to accept him, he did not know.
"A challenge will follow as tradition does say
When there be more than a suitor a day."
He announced and thrust the crest
Of holy feathers on his daughter's chest.
"Though only one, you we will test
And for that purpose we put you on a quest:
Come back by dawn with gold from your land
And a coin of "The Unspoken Hand"
Made from the unspoken metal, so rare,
But get it alone from there.
Or choose wisely and leave my daughter
I'd rather get her married to the potter
Of my tribe and be better off
Than to you and have relatives who scoff."
"By dawn I shall return to thee
And upon my face shall be a smile of glee
Having achieved what I wanted to get
Being the winner of this tribal bet."
Her voice came out, as she put the crest
Upon his head from her chest,
"I swear upon the sky and water,
I swear as the warlock's daughter,
That I shall marry none other than the archer who stands
Before us, lest he fail in the quest of our land.
In that case I shall give up my life
For I'd rather not live than not be his wife.
Gods! Bless my husband-to-be,
Whom tommorrow at dawn I pray to see
With a Silver coin and the pot of gold."
(And they all shudder, for silver is a metal untold)
The horizon was sleepy as he set off
On his horse. Many did laugh
At his zaniness, "Oh lovestruck fool,
The task is like jumping into a fire pool!!"
Her faith burned on like a flame of hope
Her heart knew, to the task their love would help him cope
No 'Unspoken Hand' couldn't her love beat
For their love she knew, he'd not take defeat.
He rode on, ramrod straight and still
She watched till his shadow vanished behind the hill
She watched and stood and prayed for love to win.
He would not give up and she would not give in.
Will they win in this strange battle?
Or will they be seperated like a child from its rattle.
A time will come when the truth unfolds,
Only heaven knows what fate the morning dawn holds.
Copyright©Vaishnavi Prasad
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poet's notes: My first Romantic ballad ever. I took inspiration for writing a ballad from Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott. One of my best works so far.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glossary:
Inca: In·ca also In·ka
n., pl. Inca or -cas also Inka or -kas.
A member of the group of Quechuan peoples of highland Peru who established an empire from northern Ecuador to central Chile before the Spanish conquest.
Tipi :ti·pi (tē'pē)
A native American tent; usually of conical shape
Long before the Incas did stand
Stood a tipi inside of which
Sat a warlock, the chief male witch.
Upon his lap lay his daughter,
Who thought about her love: An archer.
Tears streamed down her doe-like eyes;
Her father had questioned; she hated to tell lies.
The one she loved from her heart so true,
Was one her father wouldn't accept, she knew.
Belonged to another tribe he did.
For him to be summoned the warlock had bid.
Six hundred seconds and three thousand did pass
But the lover of the tribal lass
Did not appear. Her hands trembled.
"Where is he?" when asked, for words she fumbled
And then gathering all her confidence
Spoke like a man in loud prudence,
"He is not a coward, he does care
To wake his sleeping lion do not dare.
Arise, awake oh Gods of the Earth,
Unless for him , of my love, there be any dearth.
Challenge him not, don't treat him a fool
For I vow he will come today before the sun does cool
And if he does not, take my head
Slay me, and give me no bed
Instead, cut me in pieces of pounds
And feed me to the wolves and hounds."
No sooner than these words were said
CAme the sound of a horse's tread
More like a gallop that the earth shook
And people came out to take a look
A stately figure controlled the horse
Bearing bow and quiver, he rode without pause
And pause he did when he reached a line.
"This line does divide your boundary from mine,"
He spoke, holding high his chin
"Have I your permission to come in?"
A nod from the warlock, and the lad jumped down
And placed his foot into the new town.
The warlock observed him from head to toe.
Whether to accept him, he did not know.
"A challenge will follow as tradition does say
When there be more than a suitor a day."
He announced and thrust the crest
Of holy feathers on his daughter's chest.
"Though only one, you we will test
And for that purpose we put you on a quest:
Come back by dawn with gold from your land
And a coin of "The Unspoken Hand"
Made from the unspoken metal, so rare,
But get it alone from there.
Or choose wisely and leave my daughter
I'd rather get her married to the potter
Of my tribe and be better off
Than to you and have relatives who scoff."
"By dawn I shall return to thee
And upon my face shall be a smile of glee
Having achieved what I wanted to get
Being the winner of this tribal bet."
Her voice came out, as she put the crest
Upon his head from her chest,
"I swear upon the sky and water,
I swear as the warlock's daughter,
That I shall marry none other than the archer who stands
Before us, lest he fail in the quest of our land.
In that case I shall give up my life
For I'd rather not live than not be his wife.
Gods! Bless my husband-to-be,
Whom tommorrow at dawn I pray to see
With a Silver coin and the pot of gold."
(And they all shudder, for silver is a metal untold)
The horizon was sleepy as he set off
On his horse. Many did laugh
At his zaniness, "Oh lovestruck fool,
The task is like jumping into a fire pool!!"
Her faith burned on like a flame of hope
Her heart knew, to the task their love would help him cope
No 'Unspoken Hand' couldn't her love beat
For their love she knew, he'd not take defeat.
He rode on, ramrod straight and still
She watched till his shadow vanished behind the hill
She watched and stood and prayed for love to win.
He would not give up and she would not give in.
Will they win in this strange battle?
Or will they be seperated like a child from its rattle.
A time will come when the truth unfolds,
Only heaven knows what fate the morning dawn holds.
Copyright©Vaishnavi Prasad
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poet's notes: My first Romantic ballad ever. I took inspiration for writing a ballad from Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott. One of my best works so far.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glossary:
Inca: In·ca also In·ka
n., pl. Inca or -cas also Inka or -kas.
A member of the group of Quechuan peoples of highland Peru who established an empire from northern Ecuador to central Chile before the Spanish conquest.
Tipi :ti·pi (tē'pē)
A native American tent; usually of conical shape
The Day I Lived
I woke up to the morning light,
I had studied hard all last night,
For the next day I had an examination
I studied the wars and battles of time
And learnt years and dates sublime
And events that had happened in this great nation
My room was as bare as it could ever be.
My things- I could not see.
All was gone. So out of my room I rushed.
And there, in a corner, sat my mother,
Weeping beside my bawling brother,
In a house filled with a silence that was hushed.
And there were my relatives from afar,
I went to greet them with my arms ajar
But not one word did they say to me at all.
Disappointed, at them I shouted
Only more tears would come I doubted
But still, they acted as if I wasn't there- standing tall.
Frustration climbed upon me,
"I am here! Can you not see?"
I asked, filled with so much anger that I cried.
But then I realized, why
I wasn't noticed when walking by.
The reason? Simple. I, had died.
I had studied hard all last night,
For the next day I had an examination
I studied the wars and battles of time
And learnt years and dates sublime
And events that had happened in this great nation
My room was as bare as it could ever be.
My things- I could not see.
All was gone. So out of my room I rushed.
And there, in a corner, sat my mother,
Weeping beside my bawling brother,
In a house filled with a silence that was hushed.
And there were my relatives from afar,
I went to greet them with my arms ajar
But not one word did they say to me at all.
Disappointed, at them I shouted
Only more tears would come I doubted
But still, they acted as if I wasn't there- standing tall.
Frustration climbed upon me,
"I am here! Can you not see?"
I asked, filled with so much anger that I cried.
But then I realized, why
I wasn't noticed when walking by.
The reason? Simple. I, had died.
The Cry of The Unborn Child
It’s strange how fate plays,
Life’s game in many ways
And chose it’s field on my life.
And like ritual magic
It is indeed tragic
That I had to be a sacrifice.
I never had expected
That I would be rejected
For I found out something so sad!
My mother didn’t want me
And so, she disowned me
And now she’s turning very bad.
I wish I could tell her,
What in life I would prefer.
To live or to die? She didn’t ask!
If only I could live,
My talents I would give
And soon in wealth I would bask!
I don’t have a choice,
But at least I have a voice
To tell anyone who will hear-
How it feels like for me to know
That I will not live anymore
And not be able to shed a tear
I hope you’re listening
Mom, I hope something rings
When I try and tell you this:
”Inside your womb Mom, don’t build my tomb!
The joys of life I don’t want to miss.”
Eternal Decision
28.02.06
A drop of water, down it fell
The cement absorbed it, she could tell
Down her face , many more to fall
She couldn't control them all.
Hazy, were her bright, brown eyes
As she shut them and faced the skies.
Her heart skipped a beat when she looked down
With her lips pursed in a melancholic frown.
She pictured them all, one by one
All the times of laughter, joy and fun.
Sadness, fear, and others of the kind.
She saw the memories making marks in her mind
Then her family, and her friends too
All the ones with whom she grew,
But then she pushed her memories aside,
For the call of death, she had to abide.
She raised her leg; climbing on the wall
Sighing slowly before her great fall
She looked intensly at the ground below
As she cursed Him for her being a widow,
For financial dearth, and a mother-in-law
Whose every word whetted like a saw
She swore at Him for her life: A mess
She wailed and mourned out loud in distress
The end was near, she waited her cue
Now, nothing but her destruction she knew
She held her breath and shed the last tear,
Leaned forward to jump, when a voice rung clear
Inside her head, spoke loud her mother,
"Like I love you, can no other"
The girl stepped back, from her task refrained
Sat down, face in hands, soul pained
She wept, and keened and wailed a well dry
She asked her coinscience repeatedly," Why?
Why did I decide to jump off and die
When my mother's lap was there for me to lie?"
She repented her thoughts of suicide
And her intentions of becoming Death's bride.
Then she stood tall, basking in honour
For on the brink of death, life came upon her.
She straightened herself and home she did walk,
Leaving behind a legend, of which none would ever talk.
A drop of water, down it fell
The cement absorbed it, she could tell
Down her face , many more to fall
She couldn't control them all.
Hazy, were her bright, brown eyes
As she shut them and faced the skies.
Her heart skipped a beat when she looked down
With her lips pursed in a melancholic frown.
She pictured them all, one by one
All the times of laughter, joy and fun.
Sadness, fear, and others of the kind.
She saw the memories making marks in her mind
Then her family, and her friends too
All the ones with whom she grew,
But then she pushed her memories aside,
For the call of death, she had to abide.
She raised her leg; climbing on the wall
Sighing slowly before her great fall
She looked intensly at the ground below
As she cursed Him for her being a widow,
For financial dearth, and a mother-in-law
Whose every word whetted like a saw
She swore at Him for her life: A mess
She wailed and mourned out loud in distress
The end was near, she waited her cue
Now, nothing but her destruction she knew
She held her breath and shed the last tear,
Leaned forward to jump, when a voice rung clear
Inside her head, spoke loud her mother,
"Like I love you, can no other"
The girl stepped back, from her task refrained
Sat down, face in hands, soul pained
She wept, and keened and wailed a well dry
She asked her coinscience repeatedly," Why?
Why did I decide to jump off and die
When my mother's lap was there for me to lie?"
She repented her thoughts of suicide
And her intentions of becoming Death's bride.
Then she stood tall, basking in honour
For on the brink of death, life came upon her.
She straightened herself and home she did walk,
Leaving behind a legend, of which none would ever talk.
I commence.....
Keep yourself within yourself
For all that you say it never gets better
In yourself within yourself
If I was you I wouldn’t talk, I’d just keep dancing
-Inara george
Here I revive my poetic side.
An expression.
Everything.
For all that you say it never gets better
In yourself within yourself
If I was you I wouldn’t talk, I’d just keep dancing
-Inara george
Here I revive my poetic side.
An expression.
Everything.
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