 Sravani Singampalli is a writer and poet from India. She is presently pursuing doctor of pharmacy at JNTU KAKINADA university in Andhra Pradesh, India. She mostly writes in free verse. FLOWAs I smell the sweet earthy scent Of the immature rain I remember those pleasant moments I start aging with memories I see the soft fall of a magnolia flower And warmth emanates from my saffron love I get lost in my little world It stops raining The first rays of sun Hit the earth And somewhere at a corner A small flower emerges Out of the rotten leaves Just like a spark of light In the decaying darkness I have become petrichor I am the fresh perfume Issued from cardamom thoughts! My identityA man with immense knowledge Is a tree laden with fruits I am happy that I can taste them I am still a budding tree! Great people are the perennial rivers I don’t know if I can be like them Now I am a leafless maple tree Waiting with patience and faith For the season of ‘happiness and triumph’! That crooked man is a pitcher plant Its bright colour and hair-like structures Are all his tricks to trap The liquid inside is his strength But I am not that poor innocent insect! People who hurt me are cacti I am a touch-me-not plant I am the sunshine in my parents’ heart Their faith in me is a banyan tree And my heart is a magnolia flower! All the beautiful looking girls Are the tall pine trees I may not look like them I am an ugly contorted tree Still I am happy and lucky Because nobody can chop me down! DesireI wish I were the rain The rain of felicity The rain of poems Or perhaps the rain of equanimity In their gloomy lives. I wish I were blind As blind as pure love Smelling the fragrance of optimism And feeling the tranquillity in cool breeze. I wish I were the life The life in the pure water The life in the eternal sunshine Or perhaps the life In those innocent smiles. I wish I were the song The song of a nightingale The song of a passionate lover Or perhaps the song of A dewy-eyed orphan child. I wish I were his pain The pain which is bittersweet The pain buried deep inside The pain conceived into his poem The pain which has stolen all my desires! Humility (NOTE: Poetry forms used are Double Reversed Etheree and Acrostic) ‘Namaste’ is an act of humility With humility, we gain wisdom See humility in nature Trees bending in the harsh wind Just seem to me as if They are asking for Forgiveness on Behalf of All of Us. It Reminds Me of lord Jesus Christ who Suffered pain for our Sins so that we all could Be forgiven and live a Better life, even the raging Fire bows down to water in defeat Showing reverence and humility! ‘Humility’ to me doesn’t mean low Unity comes with humility I believe Malice and conceit have to be destroyed In order to live a sublime life. Little things do matter a lot I believe, like saying Thank you, hello or hi You must be humble to survive! Picasso of masked emotionsEvery day I masquerade as somebody else I mask my sorrow by a brittle smile I wander like a river Among the rocks of silence There is a reason behind my pregnant silence There is pain in my vermilion heart Hopelessness flowing in my blue blood Still I say happiness is my crown! I may not be like a clown Whose mask is visible But even a mask is masked by a mask! I wear invisible masks every day My past is the son of incubus In my lonely laughter Tears have become ashes I remember my name But lost its rainbow home Some people can be found Only in my memories Some things survive Only in my dreams My pain is unseen My desires are unfulfilled My muffled sobs unheard I know expressing my emotions Would not bring any change I lost my loving husband But for the well-being Of my little children I became a ‘Picasso of masked emotions’! Ultimate questionAs you walk along the road The light keeps on fading Dusk keeps on advancing You start losing hope You stop. When we face failures We get depressed We just isolate ourselves We stop working But do we do the same thing When our vehicle runs out of fuel? Showers of hope |
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