Jagannath rao Adukuri


Jagannath rao Adukuri Poems

1. A Photographer’s “doggereal” 11/7/2008
2. The Photographer's Quest 11/7/2008
3. Sunrise 11/7/2008
4. Urban Legends 11/7/2008
5. The Plastic Curtain 11/7/2008
6. Transience 11/7/2008
7. The Crows 11/7/2008
8. Miracles 11/7/2008
9. The Morning After The Train Journey 11/7/2008
10. The Sea 11/7/2008
11. Words Are Things 11/7/2008
12. God’s Mountains 11/7/2008
13. Images In Poetry 11/7/2008
14. At The Kapady Beach In Kerala 11/7/2008
15. Black And White Dreams 11/8/2008
16. Mother And Sea 11/13/2008
17. Poems 11/13/2008
18. Responsibility 11/13/2008
19. The Rock 11/13/2008
20. Possession 11/13/2008
21. Struggle 11/13/2008
22. Existence 11/13/2008
23. Leaves 11/13/2008
24. On Return To Mumbai 11/13/2008
25. The Sun-Photographer 11/13/2008
26. Train Thoughts 11/20/2008
27. Broken Images 11/22/2008
28. The Skull-Pot 11/22/2008
29. Fears 11/22/2008
30. Sunrise And Flowers 11/22/2008
31. Images In A Train 11/22/2008
32. Fear Of Death 11/22/2008
33. The Song 11/22/2008
34. Refusal 11/6/2008
35. Poetry Is Late 11/6/2008
36. Enacting Transience On A Pleasure Boat 11/6/2008
37. Morning Images 11/6/2008
38. The Train Journey 11/6/2008
39. Beauty Is Not Truth 11/6/2008
40. Sideshow 11/22/2008
Best Poem of Jagannath rao Adukuri

A Blade Of Grass

I cannot focus awareness on the winding road
The distant hill is covered in a blue haze
There is all-around oblivion felt in my unbeing
Only the other day I was a blade of grass
Today I cannot wave in the mountain breeze
Uprooted from my mother I do not know my being
Just like that hill covered in a haze of forgetfulness.

Read the full of A Blade Of Grass

Morning Images

My images were diffused and meshed with a train’s song
That jostled with a bird-call in the morning’s silence
As the winter’s grass-cold seeped through bare feet
Consciousness became learning and then white screen of death
As a certain heart of lipid deposits became blue and unmoving
An abrupt epilogue to a life’s power point presentation.
A tree gave up consciousness, ready to feed the gardener’s fire
Unmindful birds chirped on its dead branches in the soft sun
Everything went on the us

[Hata Bildir]