Syamala KalluryAnil Dyani is a passionate poet, writer, narrator, translator, and copy editor with an M.Com from Nagarjuna University. He’s written three books. “Enimido Rangu,” “Spelling Mistake ,” and “Gandhari Vaana” are a few examples.
He wrote over 100 articles on Telugu poetry. The majority of the articles are published in leading Telugu dailies, monthly magazines, and web magazines. He has received numerous awards for his poetry. He worked as a sub-editor for monthly magazines and the Poetic Prism publication 2021. He also mentored children and young children during literature workshops.
Procession
We are known to a greater number of people
After we are gone, than when we were around
That day everyone is related to everyone else!
If crying is the yardstick
There is no way of measuring certain things.
Like the children that come
In between our legs
While walking,
Some thoughts stop us
Crowbar, pickaxe or a rope
Come out of their hidden places
On their own accord, that day
For laughing amidst the flower plants
They too express sorrow in solidarity
And dignity
After sometime as the burden grows
Whispers galore ‘when do they
Take it out.’
Some new and some old clothes…
When we pack
And are about to leave
The sweat that dripped into the foundations
Spreads up to the walls as moisture,
All the streets turn into albums of memories
And chat with each other.
Last processions
Were all agreements drawn long ago-
Heredity becomes a burden and
Demands the shoulder to be shifted
To bid last farewell
To the caves dug long before, is
To give one last definition for sorrow
When one turns back
After finishing all the rituals
An old granny with her back bent
Sweeps away all the bonds
Thrown in front of the houses!
‘How many times have I seen them all!’
– she washes her hands off
A lamp stands flickering
In front of the house.
*
పెద్దన్న
అక్కిరాజు భట్టిప్రోలు
రవి వీరెల్లి
శ్రీరామ్ పుప్పాల
అఫ్సర్
స వెం రమేశ్
అట్టాడ అప్పల్నాయుడు
Thankyou very much madam …
It’s awesome