AtreyaSarma Uppaluri Poems

I lined up in this world years much ahead
So I could be the first to woo and wed
You, my Dream Girl, and to win my trophy
Life long that to relish as a toffee
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I

Oh, my darling! Angel beautiful!
How charming! How irresistible!
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(1)

I fell in love with her and fully so, at her first sight.
At five feet two, my angel is not of much height:
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The temperature dipped far below the freezing point
And the howling snow
Began to toss about
In flakes, granules, and pellets.
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A veggie named Atreya Sarma
Was called to a party of derma
He wouldn’t have any meat
“How’d you enjoy the treat? ”
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“But for films, ” said the upstart actor,
“I’d have, surely, become a doctor.”
Watching the interview
“Your marks hardly a few
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Atreya crowed, he could write cinquain
“It isn’t rocket science; not arcane.”
But he remained a duck.
“I don’t e’er sing, ” he’d cluck,
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“Art lies in concealing art! ”
My cry
My agonising cry
Even before
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Parched souls craned their necks for the life giving monsoon
That wasn’t to be soon and did turn a distant moon.
They craved for a pot of water to quench their thirst;
Like a bolt from the blue, waters rushed in a burst.
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So, she is in love! In love fever!
Is the doctor herself the patient?
Why not, is a doctor not human?
Can’t she therefore be emotional?
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