Jagannath rao Adukuri Poems

While I was having my head shaved in her smoke
I asked why the hearse should have blown the siren
As we had gone about throwing flattened rice on her silence.
But, when she was alive, the van that took her
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My people’s concentrated history
Flowed through these stone archways
Stone people who lived on forever
These are my own dearest kinsmen
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We looked for her in a revived memory
In the greenness of the memorial forest.
A young mango tree flourishes for her
In the vast dome of the academy’s sky.
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You would wish to ask him why
Our friend’s son has not returned
From his bath in the Ganges.
You cannot ask such questions.
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The men and women here laugh
For no particular reason, really.
They cannot help it, however.
They belong to the laughing club
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She just does not sit around doing nothing, night and morn
Look at her glass menagerie of animals, cute and unique-born
Take a look at the silver-glowed unicorn with his pretty horn
A prince from the warehouse comes riding into her life forlorn
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Bukowski’s lady had him off the bottle
He now tries sundaes of different flavors
Now he does not have to listen to Mozart
Shostakovitch and other classical bloke
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The clarinet blows
And the cymbals beat
The images of another world,
In time, larger than life,
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Then the flowers bloomed
In our laid-back backyard
My little sister shouted
And clapped for quickening
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This September I have turned yellow and seventy

The sky's translucence no longer mystifies
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