‘ Swapnika ’ రచనలు

On the anguished sky


The night, caught in the fist,
Without any sound seeps into the roots
Of heart
The solitary river,
Still for pitching a note
Making a morning star its navigator
Flows as a silent wound
Time like a cat
Jumps from the space between the legs
Digs the past and sleeps in an underground room
Eyes glide their eyeballs
On the flow of dreams

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A month of snow


Into this dawn of this month of snow
That encircled as thick smog
Who has protruded out as jasmines with elongated stalks
Wearing the crinkled wings of metallic birds
Filled the streets with brightness
This is the occasion when
Today turns a routine for tomorrow
How much they reviled
For new answers

They who produce only early spring
And dream only the early spring
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A crescent moon


Scattering her organs indiscriminately
As if not hers, she squat

As a stone heap of someone
By the road side
Is she here, not known?

As swimming in herself
As if didn’t know which bank to reach

As a seeping in ocean behind the sunrises and sets
Without a sense of anything

The wind blooming in the hair
Draws crisscrosses on her forehead
The crazy ring on her…
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