on Friday, 28 June 2013

He departs by narrating everything
In few words
A parched earth
Turns into green meadows
With a shower


Dead bare foot

on Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Walking soul 

Waking a dead wood

Pertinent way on foot into the grave

Travelling all alone on the road at midnight

And suddenly crashed by traffic jam thoughts

The moon behind the clouds

Sinks in my belly 

My last wish

Crescent lock on my coffin

A twinkling star hole 

Glaring hollowly

And I am actively dyeing

Imprisoned my self without bars

@satya Srinivas,(16-6-13)

Naked truth

on Friday, 21 June 2013

Some thoughts are stationed at home.
Moon and sun put down their traditional color
Before their reappearance
At every dawn and dusk
Sky attires itself in shades of
The last stoke of the brush from the palette

Few habitations do not have doors
Seasons shed their odor
At these junctures

Roots pertinently revolve
Consistently sprouting on mud paths

Few foot prints
Are still at my door step
With stamps of soil

Maps of destination are drawn by the visitors
Abodes still do not lie


on Tuesday, 18 June 2013

The site of

Planting paddy saplings

Resembles Women’s contour

In earthen root seed form

The desire of kissing their mud fingers

Burns me to breathe in the field


Words travelogue

on Sunday, 16 June 2013

Often silence
Speaks silently
Like the words taking shape from the key board
On to the screen
And withering away
In a brisk of a time

The response
Utters a ‘like’
With or with out smile on the face

My eyes twinkle
On wet lips
The gulp in the throat
Sinks without notice

Some read aloud silently in their hearts

Stone words on my grave
Have silent eyes

Do not place flowers in silence
Just close your eyes and think the moments
Which we loved to share and couldn't

Now I can feel those colors
In solace
When you turn back and leave
My soul whispers in your heart

All along the way s and years to come


Feet Apart

on Sunday, 9 June 2013
Living in
The way to hide
For   a seeker
Hiding places
Mother’s womb
Before born
Trunks and rock caves of nature
 In child hood
Limbs and lips of wife
As grown up
Aspiring twinkling eyes
 Of children
As greying

Day by day
Tagged in spatial chord
In the treasured tones
Like sprouting flowers
Of abodes

My Feet
Search its unattested prints
On the virgin soil
To transmit the
Fragrance back home



on Monday, 3 June 2013

For the entire night
Moon sings lullabies
For my tortoise thoughts
Hatching in the sands of the mind bay
At midst of the dark
Hauling luminescent stray dogs
Eye on the eggs
Few are stolen
And the residual ones
Beneath the layers
Dead in the day
The shells of the consumed
Float on the waves with eagle’s feathers
Without any trace of foot prints
The shades of water marks
On the rocks of the shore
Render the resilient t waves of mine

 At this moment
 I am painting a self portrait

Christen of a bird

on Sunday, 2 June 2013
The sight of

Endless horizons


Stationed on

Soul’s eye level

The tail of tiny bird

Wags in a composing form

Of a welcome and departure hymn

Wings simultaneously swing

In closed and open customs in the air

Heaven and earth

Seldom meet each other

Revolving elusively in their own spheres