Mango Bites



I treaded over last night
But failed to capture fistful of darkness
Some of my lingering dreams soaked in tears
Never turned into tales of empathy

I sit in an alphabet letter and admit in another
Each word turns into a confession box
I write myself here…

Some memories
Rolling like hollow bottles
Are full of emptiness….
But resist to be buried!
They never lose their luster
for me-
they are distorted letters on a wet page
blurred and hazy like some relations…

Some undefined relations
Pin down life force like a paper weight
When can one distinguish
Warmth and temperature
In human realtions?

The whistles in the air bring the message
The buried corpse can’t have friends
Boulders in pyramids can’t fill the vacuum in life
Nor can stop the light entering my eyes

Intellectuality can’t be rented
It’s like wearing my father’s loin cloth
Unnatural and artificial too..

Can this confession box
discrete the moisture and succulence
at the heart…….?
Life has its own screenplay

Original Poem (Telugu):

Poet: Srinivas Vasudev

Translated by the poet.