Vijay Seshadri Poems
|2.||Bright Copper Kettles||2/29/2016|
|3.||Bright Copper Kettles||2/26/2018|
|7.||Life of Savage||2/29/2016|
|8.||Life of Savage||2/26/2018|
|9.||MADE IN THE TROPICS||2/26/2018|
|15.||The Descent of Man||2/26/2018|
|16.||The Long Meadow||2/26/2018|
|21.||Trailing Clouds of Glory||2/26/2018|
|22.||VERY SIMPLE AND LIKE A SONG||2/26/2018|
Comments about Vijay Seshadri
The mountain that remains when the universe is destroyed
is not big and is not small.
Big and small are
comparative categories, and to what
could the mountain that remains when the universe is destroyed
Consciousness observes and is appeased.
The soul scrambles across the screes.
like the square root of minus 1,
is an impossibility that has its uses.
Life of Savage
I've been excited about him as an individual.
I've met him as a person, emerging from his own shadow.
Indeed it is remarkable.
Indeed it is to be remarked of my friend Savage that
the desolation of hopes not merely deferred
but by impracticability brutalized
little marred his genial spirit.
How such a one, so circumstanced by parentage—
the mother crippled by disappointment; the father by rotgut and Percodan—