Day 77: My Irish Sister

It has been over ten years,
And we have conquered​ many fears.

In a class of twenty fine and brilliant minds,
Our crazy understood that we had found our kind.

Through a life filled with stories so strange,
That even HBO would request a plot change.

We have been at each other’s sides,
A friendship continuously fortified.

So on this day, when we celebrate,
The will and strength of the Irish state.

I thank the luck of the Irish,
That granted my friendship wish.

So this St. Paddy’ Day,
Let’s continue to disobey,

All the rules of who we should be,
And simply continue to run free.

​© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy

AN: Just an attempt for a fun poem for my best friend Wendy. 


Day 68: The Women

On this sacred day,
I give thanks
For the many women
Who have made me strong
And the many women
Who continue to inspire me
To be more than I can imagine.

My mother who bore me,
Nine months of pain,
To birth a child,
Who needed special care.
She did not stumble,
In her love and protection,
Teaching me that I was
More than a medical diagnosis
Her child in every way
Patient, kind and loving.

My aunts who supported me,
From the ones who flew
To my mother’s side,
Her sister by marriage
Friend in trust,
To those not bound by blood,
Never making us feel a loss,
Though our mother’s arms were gone,
Reminding me that we were always,
Giving, smart and inclusive.

My sister who loves me,
A protector and fighter,
My first friend,
Who set the standard so high,
Reminding me that I am
Gold and diamonds,
A precious gift to all.

All my other sisters in my corner,
Bonded by blood or love,
Who keep me on my toes,
Inspire me to change
And teach me that I am
Worthy, a fighter and flexible.

The young women in the generation after,
Who remind me that things get better,
All that has been accomplished
To recall that legacy
Is passed on.
The new bearers of herstory
That we are
Resilient, demonstrative and kind.

© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy


International Women's Day (2)

Image used with permission from Art by Thiviyaa

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Day 55: Remember

I see you in every line in her face,
In the way she laughs
Her innocent manipulations.

Joyful expressions,
Sullen tantrums,
Tearful apologies,

She captivates,
With her smile,
Making us all players,
In her drama.

When she moves her pencil,
Breathing life,
Into still white pages,
Her essence glows bright,
That I cannot look away.

Other days she runs,
Headlong into the wind,
Without thoughts of falling,
Dancing in sun-warmed beaches,
And frozen tundras.

Singing her song of joy,
Stringing notes between the stars,
Off key and loud,
Giving voice to expression,
To emotion, to reality.

In all these times,
And all these ways,
I remember us,
The girls we were,
The women we are
And all the ways,
We captivate.

© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy