I was recently inspired to write a poem.....but then....I thought better not !
Ode to a Donkey
A heap of dust, lustreless and pale,
you roam the neighborhoods of Kondavidu.
Everyone shoos you away.
You lie in alleyways and corners
and bray.
.....By any chance,
are you a poet too?
Cheaper By The Dozen
Five, six, seven,
eight, nine,
even ten per house
in every village:
poets are popping up everywhere.
As God is my witness, I swear:
once a whole country was lucky
to have one.
<Srinatha>
Fault Lines
In the olden days, if a text was demanding,
the reader felt it was he lacking.
These days the poet is to blame.
Devious are the ways
of this dying age.
<Viswanatha Satyanarayan (1976) composed this verse in response to Marxist & other modern critics who accused him of being too opaque> |
