Canvas

By Rohini James
Copyright March 2019
All Rights Reserved

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Joy

Oh, to be happy, to be well,
How the quest has made hedonists of us all;
How we lust after peace that doth flood the soul’s wells.
Thrill and love and dopamine: our idols to chase
As a sunset on an ever-retreating horizon.

If only the world sought not its origin but its nature.

Oh, to make it mine!
Every instance my laughter is stolen by the wind;
To see my bruises in victorious halos;
To feel life on the breath of a lover in a mingled atmosphere;
To be sated with pride in effort even in failure;
To see my blood on the deeds of the estates of my toil;
To inherit the fulness lives before mine have thirsted after;
To abide in the world, restful and sedate,
Without tumult even in death.

By Rohini James
Copyright February 2015
All Rights Reserved

Consōlārī

I had hoped that the bass would be heavy enough to anchor me
And my headphones sturdy enough to cradle my mind
That threatened oozing from my ears.
I wanted crooning violins that sang condolences.
The world paraded past hurriedly,
Barely sparing time to judge me.

I did not mind.

This must be what feeling alive is.
Full and overflowing, I spill terribly into every space
And I am thinly spread, and feeble.
I do not flow with the grace of the songs that set me in motion.

Even whispers of the faintest hymns find me easy to tease,
Titillated to tumult that falls like chains
And surround me like carnage

I do not mind

Silence gathers me up once the serenade ends
And time forgives me
For my half-scream-half-sung songs
So too does it turn a blind eye
To the lashings of my halved soul.

*The title of this poem, “Consōlārī” is a Latin word meaning ‘to console’*

By Rohini D. James
Copyright November 2014
All Rights Reserved

The Rule Of Three

IMG_6147.JPG

Rohini Dasi James
Copyright November 2014
All Rights Reserved

Roses

You’re rather grey today
But the craving for color doesn’t wane.
You slip further toward the edge you think trustworthy
And waiting for your crashing is nothing more than pooling rain.

Where the sun rises your realm seeks shade.
Curled away in the sordid mess you’ve made
Of a world that sought to bless you,
But now withholds from you any love at all.

How far will you fall,
Before you let the winged breeze carry you away?

Anoint your dwelling in roses if it’s the birds you miss.
Forgive your failures tonight if you desire the departure of sleep’s sweet death.
The butterflies will find you in slumber, beyond insomnia’s borders
Only when your flowers bloom

By Rohini Dasi James
Copyright October 2014
All Rights Reserved

Mid-summer’s 6:30 PM

Mid-summer's 6:30 PM
By Rohini James
Copyright August 2014
All Rights Reserved

Casual Religion

Casual religion-Rohini james

This piece, done in graphite and watercolor, began as a solely experimental venture. It’s entire course unintentional, much of its appearance is the result of compensating for and hiding a plethora of mistakes. However in examining it in search of a title, “Casual Religion” struck an abrupt and resounding chord that seized me.

Many of the best sculpted works of art are ancient, as are the most popular or best known religious orders. By a series of faulty brush strokes the statue ended up meditating with an air of nonchalance and detachment from an otherwise internally edifying activity. Cobwebs collect in the crooks of her joints and she is defaced by age, evident in a cracked foot that has long since broken off of her.

It is meant to convey that everyday fewer people are identifying with organized religious groups. And what is left? A hipster here and there shaving their heads to console their spirits or an enthused convert clutching a crucifix for dear life while the rest of the world sleeps on their deities, revisiting them at thinly spread intervals or falling at their feet when woes befall them much like children dosing off in church only to be startled by the reprimanding of their parents. This is simply a statement of my personal observation that does not necessarily reflect universal reality. I draw and find meaning in things that are seen, and vision like everything human is limited.

Still, strictly from a visual point of view, I count this experiment a success, ignoring the fact that my sleep deprivation and personal biases may be clouding my judgement.

 By Rohini James
Copyright June 2014
All Rights Reserved