MaithriIt’s scorching
the old, creaking fan is in continual motion – the only
relief
he sits on the cement floor, the sound of the heat reaches
through open doors
dhoti clad, glasses taped, stainless steel plate; he eats
in silence
it’s pouring
the slow, lethargic motion of the fan – the only
solace
she leans against the glass, the chill of the rain lilts through
the window panes
saree gathered, hair left loose, bare feet; she stares
in silence
Serenades of a Cool Hilltop
Can you smell the hills, wafting their way
through the clouds?
Can you feel the chills, running down
your spine when the breeze hits your
shroud?
Can you hear the dead, whispering
words of warmth into your ear?
Can you taste the air, damp from the
mountain’s tears?
Can you breathe in all these senses,
and live by the hills?
Yes, you can.
Yes, you can.
పెద్దన్న
అక్కిరాజు భట్టిప్రోలు
రవి వీరెల్లి
శ్రీరామ్ పుప్పాల
అఫ్సర్
స వెం రమేశ్
అట్టాడ అప్పల్నాయుడు
On first reading one feels like having peered into a kaleidoscope. But then the vision clears and I smile at the deceptive, and brilliant, symmetry of this poem, The Despondence Between Strangers. I say deceptive because while the poet split the experience into belonging to a man and a woman, I rather think an innate intuition in her that a man and a woman are merely two points in a spectrum–that intuition has revealed itself here. Quite poignantly. And I absolutely love the “Can you hear the dead, whispering / words of warmth into your ear?” in the other one.
That was so detailed!
Thank you so much, uncle for the feedback. :”)
Will definitely encourage me to write more.
Good ones, Maithri garu. Keep it up.
Thank you! 🙂
Can you hear the dead, whispering the words of warmth into your ears? WOW.. fabulous 🙂
Thank you so much, sir! 🙂
”
Can you feel the chills, running down
your spine when the breeze hits your
shroud?
”
OMG. This one imagery is enough to tell what sort or tall of poet you are! Very good poem. Keep writing more.