Mango Bites

Fourth face


It is too difficult to extract the fourth face out
And ‘keep aside’ is it an easy task
To dig over the strings of pleasurable sadness
Entwined in the layers of brain
Now, it’s the time for me to don the fourth face
And dig myself deep and deep
And I have to fly skillfully
The dragonflies compressed in all the faces
This is a distant way to fill the various vacuums
Of life
Spreading the wounds filled with patience
It’s a boon that
All the rivers with in me
That split as rivulets and flow
Fallout as waterfalls
And tether the garlands of letters
Tying the past and present
Moving between in and out
To embalm all the abscesses every night
I wear a fourth face.
What is creation nothing but
Destructing myself
To cool down after burning as a flame
Taking out the blood and Filling the vessels
With life sap
And to spread the wet-wet letters
On the stone of life for drying
Creation is nothing but
The explosion of the volcanoes
From the days when we hide
Hide and seek in geometry boxes
Till this moment ‘
As we disconnect all the natural affections
Every truce that I make with my self
I will secure them in letters
I will drain all the seven notes of touch
Into the voice
That tuned silent impassionate songs
I stick the bright plants
On wet lands of dreams
Crossing as many dark rivers as I could
When the mind became a tumult
And the commotion matures as poetry
I’ll invite the blue winged sleep
Before the eyelids close completely
The sun opens his eyes
The face of my kitchen invites me
It will be delayed to don the
Face of the office
Every minute I erupt out as time
I am a distressed one in all other three faces
But a triumph only in the forth face.


(Destructing is coined as an antonym of constructing)


Original: V. Pratima (Telugu – Naalugo moham)
Translation: Swatee Sripada