Shower of earth

on Tuesday, 5 December 2017
Symbols of ploughed fields
anatomy of rain
after departing the village

Drought
black rain

Cloudless sky
cities route
siren for people
pro labor

Blackened sky
disposed black soil fields
white cotton flower


Drought
naked earths bathe

( Burrandoddi, Kurnool, A.P. India,2000)

Post Truth

on Tuesday, 1 August 2017
My poem stays in the pages of the note book 
For years
As I am looking at my pale face in the mirror again and again
Moments jog pairing illustrious feelings with words
Book unfastens by the whirl of the wind
Few words take their own path leaving blank space in the sentence
Like cleaning the stained mirror
For having a better reflection of the virtual face
Unfinished poem shelved in the book
Virtual image breathing in the mirror
Mirror! Mirror!! on the wall….
Whose images are the most beautiful ones in the world?
Real image in the mirror says…
True images on the time line are caged words
Unless you wake up early morning
And say to the book it’s show time
Let the words in pages
Survive like breathing book lungs

(8-9-17)

Whispers

on Monday, 14 December 2015


They rest
With pale shadows
Gazing at the changing horizons
Haunting me.
I can’t hear
The echo of my heart
Lost in the exasperating crowd.
My ancestors lived in them.
The ever widening roads
And pigeon holes
Brushed them away.
They are now ruins!
We engrave
Our beloved ones names
On their walls
Spit  ugly colors
But they still
Gaze at my offspring and murmur

“This was an abode of ours”

Mythical memories

on Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Even my thoughts figure
Like water images
Under a microscopic eye
Memories of both
Have similar moon
We both are astronauts
Flying in forms of memoirs
Fulfilling one’s own thirst
With an iceberg breathe
Our aspirations are
Dancing feet of penguins
Just join us in the party

With naked truths

Deferred monsoon

on Wednesday, 23 July 2014



Hope is incarcerated
As a date in the calendar
Celebrating every day
As an event of depleted emotional relations
Sky resembles an embryo of misdeeds
Clouds float like
Guillotine of green soil
 Sunflowers in the farms
Cover their faces
With a suicidal note of the sons of soil
Thoughts are rusted nails in the coffin
Carved words on the grave stone
Are rituals of last rain drops
Which fill the thirst of parched souls
Of ceremonial visitors
(20-7-14)
















Climbers

on Saturday, 28 June 2014
My roots penetrate
Into hidden layers of the soil
Unfold into chorus
Orchestrated by vivid birds on the branches
Few petals dancing to the wind and rain
Fall on earth
As a tribute to the path
This paved a journey to abode
The serenity beneath the footprints
Blossoms in the sky
My eyes embrace the trunks in the woods
As I move ahead

(10-6-14)

Whirl

on Friday, 9 May 2014
Mid afternoon heat
Frenzy red flowers
A mild breeze sprays
Tender colors
On the naked earth
 Like left over water drops on her body
After the bathe
The floor beneath my lone thoughts
Expands and compresses
Painting orange color in the sky
 Slowly I enter the abode
A night borne in ecstasy

Silence of the dawn dispel
With song of the bird
My sight branches out
With dew drops on red flowers

Spread across between us