Intimations Poetry in the timeless tradition of the Mind's Eye This is an astounding collection of intellectual poetry worthy of the Gold Seal of Literary Excellence. Venilla Rajaguru displays remarkable skills in the metaphorical stylistics of her poetic art. Most of the poems are in the form of poetic tales, poetic verse narratives telling a story, either a social satire or a philosophical, didactic story. These stories offer intimations of the mind's eye, philosophical stances on realities and illusions, personal and social responsibilities in love and life. This is a rare collection of poetry that is thought provoking, inspiring, and enjoyable to read. The poems are organized under three distinct yet correlated thematic frameworks: lifescape, lovescape, and blindscape. Each section is genuinely an intellectual discovery of stylistics and themes, interconnected by the central metaphor of this book, the mind's eye. A must-read for poetry lovers! Fiction readers will find the poetic stories truly engaging!
INTIMATIONS
Poetry in the light of The Mind's EyeBy Venilla RajaguruTrafford Publishing
Copyright © 2012 Venilla Rajaguru
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4669-5184-6Contents
Dedication.......................................................viiPreface..........................................................ixPrologue.........................................................xvForgotten........................................................1On a bright open dump day........................................3Framed...........................................................5Worlds Apart, the Albatross and the Peacocks.....................6Better Bets......................................................8Palace of Mirrors................................................9Racing Rainbow Reveries..........................................11Statues..........................................................13In the city of Merlion...........................................15Across the Detroit River.........................................18Finding Love.....................................................21Anarkali.........................................................22Draupadi.........................................................23Will Love ever guide true?.......................................25Love, in memory lane.............................................26Together, were we?...............................................27Against the flow of Time.........................................28Of Him, the Seeker...............................................30Discovery........................................................32Continuity.......................................................33New Age Love.....................................................35The Magic and the Realism........................................36Love Mystique....................................................38Another Day......................................................40The Light of the Third Eye.......................................41A Blind Romantic.................................................45Master your stairs...............................................47Cotton Candy.....................................................48Cosmos...........................................................49Scent of Love....................................................50Feel your quest!.................................................51In Dark Space....................................................52Mama Blind, Baby Lullaby.........................................54Dream your Dream.................................................56Pilgrimage.......................................................57About the Author.................................................59
Chapter One
Lifescape, in lands near and far On Socio-cultural predilections and Philosophies, common and uncommon
Forgotten
I
Unknown in a friendly town
Where frangipani flowers
Fall gently fresh to the ground
And running waters shimmer
Warm in a hot morning sun
Water from the garden tap
Gushed fast, free and easy,
Know not for how long across
Pathways tiled and tainted,
In a nice friend's dear home.
Forgetting outdoors
With inside demands
Within a locked door,
The family helper
Starts her day chanting,
`God's Will, will be done!'
Interrupted by only
Another door closing loud,
As she continues
To chant her God's name.
II
The forgotten tap water
The ignored fallen flowers
No one close to care, no one
To see or know how and when
The chubby toddler often called
Center of his mother's world
Slipped down hitting the wet floor,
While picking up the scattered
Soft yellow flowers fragrant,
Lying like soft toys on the floor.
Water shimmering
In the golden sun,
Hot with crimson blood
His cries still unheard,
Till a friend came by,
Observed his silence
At twilight prayers,
To the friend's call ran
Home mates chanting
Again their God's name.
On a bright open dump day
A sweeper passed by
With his son behind him,
Teaching him his trade,
The virtues of separating
The good and the bad.
He called out to his boy, `you know,
They say God is everywhere.
He should be here too!'
He pointed at the open dump,
Flies swarming over the stench,
`That's why the lord over there,
Wants to build a covered bin',
Said his boy, trotting closer now.
`Well that's when it gets even worse',
Sighed the strong old man
Sweeping along,`You see this',
He raised his right index finger
Swollen bulge, as if throbbing
With crusted pus and clot,
`That's when you don't know,
What's in it—you can't see'.
`Whether the good cloth from the pin
Is separate, and the good bottle
Is way out of tin that can cut?
How do you see all, if it's all closed
Where no sun from the heavens
Lights the dump to tell me
The good and the bad mixed up
Like people in the streets, son'.
The sweeper passed by
With his son still behind him,
Teaching him his trade
Lessons of life, lessons
How to tell good from bad.
Framed
A burst of crimson flower
Framed between glasses
Set in wood crafted borders,
To speak of life's zest,
Delicate in its freshness,
So short-lived in time;
Fixed as beauty on the wall
Nature made to last,
Until time unknown—when Time
Can shatter the glass,
Free the delicately dead
Blossom once plucked
From Nature's garden of bliss,
As babies and stems
For research in tubes sealed!
To outwit Nature
Outsmart destiny and Time,
Be it Art or Science-
A burst of crimson flower
Framed between glasses
Delicate, yet hard and tight,
Sealed in finite fate-
The quest goes on ... creating
Visible beauties,
Truths visible of Art and Science,
Stretched to outlive
Known Endings and Beginnings,
While the third eye sparkles
Inviting ... beyond the start of the ending line
Worlds Apart, the
Albatross and the Peacocks
I
Worlds apart, in the same home
Beachside garden pool home,
Lived a couple busy with papers
Letters, cables, books and phones.
Like an albatross, snowy and wandering
Their girl flew with them across lands
On good and flawed business deals,
Looking for the same home where
She kept her secret key to her dolls house,
Where she hid paper boats to float
In the garden pool that her nanny
Called `Danger', crushing her paper dreams.
In dad's world of ticking clocks,
He and Mom shimmer in colors,
As peacocks she once saw
In a pretty garden with flowers,
Red and yellow, plumage bright
Green golden, brighter
Than the rainbow in the sky,
Dancing the dance of `change'
As she was told, changing
From sunny smiling moods
To angry evening misty clouds,
Until darkness came warm in bed.
II
Not so far away
From her beachside home,
Flying around long
Across islands of time,
Longing for the same love
Across Georgia, Marion,
Africa and Macquarie,
Another snowy bird
Brings good news
Of love in a new nanny;
While her peacocks walk
In another sunny land.
Under another equinox,
Where white, red and yellow flowers
Bloom amid lush golden mangoes,
Her peacocks dance in splendor
Not so in the magic of love,
But for private crowds to be graced,
Deal makers to be entertained,
Till darkness creeps warm at bedtime.
Though there's sunrise day after day,
In their world of fading fascinations
Joy is timed short like a peacock dance.
Better Bets
In the end is the beginning,
In the middle are the longings.
As there, over there in that farmstead
Where chicks chirp in teams to one other,
While mother Hen moves to and fro
To lead, to show how to seek and live ...
To judge their souls is not difficult.
But to weigh their wants is weighty.
Together she groups them, cares to teach,
To protect she destroys, with care she leads,
To grow better and better together,
She plays owner of her group and farm.
While the farmer looks, he only says,
`This farm needs a better keeping!'
Palace of Mirrors
Palace breeze couldn't blow through
Without the mirrors jaunting,
Teasing, glinting and gleaming
Gold gilded mirrors and alcoves
With hard tingles of air brushed strokes.
Within that palace, she grew in dreams,
Pastures grown green with nightingale songs;
Unseen but known by her soul's reach,
Like a dove's reach over seven seas,
Soaring by books from mystery lands.
Unknown to her of a sacred day,
But known to a blessed holy man,
She married a king with the mirrors
Gleaming, glinting and tingling
Brazen moves with swift air brushed strokes.
The king then left for new conquests.
Three wars later, she relented lone:
Could she ever know the secret
Beyond the palace gilded mirrors,
Secrets of `I' and cosmic existence?
Locked for long inside the mirrors,
Where could she leave, alone to stay
And know new honorable life?
She resolved to stay, but then vowed
Never to see the mirrors again.
With blindfolded eyes, mind's world anew,
With a new expansive eye of the mind
And of sensuality to feel, to touch,
And think to discover more and more,
She found a secret key to open doors.
A key so sacred that legends tell
Divine to ignite lights of the soul,
Transcend sensory worlds known,
Of which she would write and sing
After she left the blinding mirrors.
Afterword:
Some say the key is now lost.
Some say the key is hidden,
For seekers to find yet again,
From the palace of mirrors,
Mirrors of this reflective world.
Racing Rainbow Reveries
I
Racing rainbow reveries
Fishing fleeing fluffy waters
In waves washed shore;
They fear to prick
The sky stretched
Like a blue balloon,
Burst, it might
To void, worse
Than what is Now.
II
Up when dark above, clouds come
To squeeze tears that it lifted up
And then heavy, with loaded cares
Colored dreams do to a rainbow turn.
Does anyone care
Of joys or pains
Of a rainbow's birth,
If it's borne in hope or despair?
When a heart's wound doesn't stop
The womb of love to slow down,
The chase is by choice, to seek
Cherish and own, own a rainbow!
A play of hope,
A dying hope leaps
To play hop on Hope,
Hiding tears with smiles!
Some say it's a crying game,
Some say it's a laughing game,
And teach theYoung to do the same,
In crayons to see what rainbows can be.
III
As each seeks his own dream,
His own dream, seeks him well;
From where, no one knows,
Yet between knowing and not knowing
What was known and would be known,
Seekers sense, it is to the pains
Of a Rainbow's birth, is lured
A dreamer, a seer, a poet!
Some slip the bend,
Some reach the pot,
The golden pot,
Of well won joy;
Till another
Dream mocks the joy,
To begin again,
Racing Rainbow Reveries
Statues
"Do you see statues
Stately or grotesque?" was the question.
Some argued for and against statuesque,
Some remained indifferent, while others
Left the debating hall for tea and chat
Of dates, long calls and summer ball.
Is it all the same,
With statues of peace leaders and divine,
War heroes and martyrs of the world wars,
Heads of state and statesmen glorified?
In statues their symbols stay still static,
Locked cold in silent stone and metal form.
As talisman
And Art for didactic and leading truths
Across seven continent and cultures,
In parks, city squares, museums and schools,
Do statues evoke connected history,
Knowing respect for living memory?
As static art,
When life is Change, quick moves and rush hours,
Do statues turn grotesque as bygone truths?
Statues where birds perch to rest, drop and stain,
As workers and leisure crowd in tours
Through photos make personal history.
"Do you see statues
Stately or grotesque?" was the question.
Some argued for and against statuesque,
Some remained indifferent, while others
Left the debating hall for tea and chat
With dates, long calls and winter ball.
In the city of Merlion
As free as our souls
Blissful sunbirds seeking new nests,
Singing joyfully,
Independent of fear and past history,
Braving rough winds
We arrived, to learn and grow many trades,
Join hearts and minds
With unity to flock together as One.
As one of a kind
We stayed together, to good applause,
At times dragged down
To derision, yet with the conviction
Deep rooted within,
Sturdy family trees spread out
With many branches,
Strengthening dreams of home and trade ship.
Sometime in between
The inspirations of work discussions
We found relief and love
Over river cruise and magical bay;
At starlit Clark Quay
As we discovered the Singapore sling,
We vowed to invite
More friends home to this clean cityscape.
Some came for comfort,
Others came for jobs, better life,
Prosperity
In a garden city of tall made homes.
Some others left soon,
While others stayed as our neighbors,
Celebrating
Their festivals and ours as One.
Like Merlion,
Lion head and mermaid tail fused as One,
We learnt lion's trade;
Robust as fountain waters flow
From depths of his mouth,
We gaged health by food and drinks we shared;
And like mermaid tail,
Agile we became to master rough tides.
Together we marked
Gold and silver with standard seal,
Shared our milky teas,
Fried perfect our golden curry puffs;
Found sweet nectar fruits
In the busy market place of pride,
Eyed Center of Arts
For architectural feats, paints and plays.
With years rolling on
As quick time turns out in a lively dance,
Sometime in between
Well planned work and soulful musicals,
We tread treetop trails
Visit multicolored temples and stalls,
Nestle in the isle
Tropical, for life's work in paradise.
We sing of life's work,
Of focus in life's work and balance,
We sing of life's aims,
Of passion and goals to excel,
We sing of Haven,
Talents Haven to sustain inspired life,
We sing of purpose,
To stay united together as One.
Across the Detroit River
Across the Detroit river
Over Sun sparkling waters
Around the city's icon
Lives a casual seer, smiling
At his pets and peers,
Trying good clairvoyance
With bills, but no crystal balls.
He oft proclaims his mind's vision
Of economic rise and fall,
When money dies or dies not—
To many he is saint, to few he is mad—
While lovers dream of rainbows,
Summer sales and family homes,
Across the Detroit River
They see new and old fading truths,
Of new treasures in precious land.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from INTIMATIONSby Venilla Rajaguru Copyright © 2012 by Venilla Rajaguru. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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