There are some people
That are stuck in life
That don't know how
To get out of the rut of
The rat race if the door
Was sitting right in front
Of their faces and there
Was a sign saying exit here
Or if their very lives and
Existence depended on them
Rejecting the rat race and
Finding the door for
Themselves they would
Rather eat the poison
And die than live
And be free from
The race of the grind
These people I call lifers
They have a "life" plan
Or "life" goals that they
Want to follow and
They have to follow
The road to success
To make it to the top
Buying into the "life"
Or the American dream
That is toxic and deadly
To begin with and will
Ultimately lead to the
Destruction of your
Soul and your mind
And yourself trying
To keep up with the "life
You have to be willing
To let go of the material
And let go of the rat race
And find the truth behind
Life and true happiness
Is to give and to receive
Rather than trying to
Take whatever you can
From whoever you can
Just to support your "life".

Scattered thoughts
As though they were fed
To the pigeon of my mind
on a free flight!

I may not be able to provoke beauty
in my words.
Nod.
For I'm just a writer with no experience
of any masterpiece.

But for those appreciations, all of you
have given to my works.
Smile.
For each has left butterfly that will always
be inside my chest.

And that is irrevocable.

my greatest hope
is that, in time,
I will be able to look
Within
for resolution
instead of finding
the tired echo of

                          I do not know

but when
or if
this day will come

                         I do not know
                         I do not know

Broken castle a top a lonely hill
Every board is aging, rotted and frayed
The remains of frail memories will spill
Onto the dirt ground, once flourished I layed
The lights all flicker on and come to life
And the chandelier rises from the floor
The tune I danced with, when I was your wife
Dancing to the beat, open ballroom doors!
Theres a dark pulse of magic in the air
The years fall off my shoulders, I'm alive
I can picture you again standing there
I have been shocked so suddenly revived
And to take my last shaking dying breath
I can open my arms to you, and death

yellow mini suns
bright lanterns on a dull day
nourishingly warm

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  28.01.2013
  Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

Echoing voice of the moonlit night
Foresee but unarmored from past,
Fragmented heart of broken lights;
Unraveling miseries already did last.

Drowned by tears of years were lost
From crawling those diverging roads,
Victim of dying embers found his cost;
Resemblance of faith is in the woods.

But God above guided his way home
And dry every little river in his mind,
Mournful shadows are still unknown;
Embers of souls are always in divine.

Let it snow
Oh let it blow
the wind howling
with trees writhing in pain
and then STOP.
Play.
Chandelier tree lights up and stands
attracting people to dance with the bands
leaving a very merry land!
Snow lightly drifting,
the angels are a twirling.

Love is so gentle
And love is gently woven
It's a tapestry.

**~Marian~