indira babbellapati

Rookie - 106 Points (visakhapatnam, india)

indira babbellapati Poems

561. Dialogue With Self: Iv 12/17/2009
562. Desire…few Facets 3/3/2010
563. A Breathing Fantasy 12/31/2009
564. Here Again...! 10/8/2009
565. From Her Heart 12/21/2011
566. From The Banks Of Ganga: I 1/19/2012
567. For Him I Know Not: Xvii 9/30/2011
568. A Poem On A Lonely Monsoon Night 7/11/2011
569. Some Sea-Thoughts 9/28/2009
570. Does It Need A V.Day? 2/11/2010
571. Cul De Sac 12/17/2009
572. At Last... 7/18/2010
573. Eversince You Had Left 6/13/2010
574. From A Water Bubble 4/1/2010
575. An Indian Summer Of My Childhood 12/2/2010
576. As The Wind Caresses Me Through The W Indow... 9/22/2010
577. A Poem That Came Alive 7/22/2011
578. Between You And Me: Iv 10/16/2011
579. From The Banks Of Ganga: Ix 3/28/2012
580. Bewteen You And Me: I 10/16/2011
581. Between You And Me: Ii 10/16/2011
582. Between You And Me: Iii 10/16/2011
583. Between You And Me: Vii (Senryu) 10/23/2011
584. Between You And Me: Viii 10/25/2011
585. A Poem Seeking Permission... 9/11/2011
586. A Poem At A Memorial Meeting 8/17/2011
587. A Poem From A Child's Heart 8/2/2011
588. Between Two Days Or Two Nights 4/14/2010
589. Cataclysm 10/20/2010
590. Darkness And Light 1/4/2010
591. ...Every Evening 3/3/2010
592. A Poem Called A Lump In My Throat 8/18/2011
593. A Poem On A Wholesome Mother 8/17/2011
594. A Poem Of Ruminations 9/20/2011
595. A Poem Of Raindrops And You! 6/28/2011
596. Dichotomy 10/12/2011
597. A Poem To The Master 7/15/2011
598. A Poem That Stared Into My Eyes ' 5/29/2011
599. A Poem That Whispered Its Longings 9/21/2011
600. A Poem In Waiting 8/23/2011

Comments about indira babbellapati

  • Tirupathi Chandrupatla Tirupathi Chandrupatla (5/16/2013 8:41:00 PM)

    Images creep out of the ordinary in Ms Babbellapati's poems. Images imagined, real, surreal, of intense thought, and action simply take shape out of no where. Dreams, rains, monsoon, water drops from the roofs, waves, sea in action, nature, and fellow beings show up elsewhere. It's then only a matter of choice of words. She chooses them with utmost precision and leads us precisely to where she wants us to go.We then get lost in a world of its own design.

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Shahzia Batool Shahzia Batool (6/20/2012 9:49:00 AM)

    .PROSE - words in their best order
    POETRY- the best words in their best order...

    S.T.Coleridge

    Ms. Babbellapati knows this art fully.She uses language most precisely and exploits all of the resources of
    language wonderfully in order to convey her meaning to the conscious reader.From the long mythical poems and series work to the short Senryus n haikus, her diction varies according to the ends she wishes to achieve. She decides it by the nature of the literary form, the subject n the style .Her poems sometimes serve as Idylls to describe a euphoric environment which is remotely attainable. Her pages are a welcome shelter away from the worries n woes of the world...in my little contact i found her a learned person, an affectionate lady, n a wonderful poet..

    6 person liked.
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  • Allemagne Roßmann Allemagne Roßmann (10/8/2011 2:25:00 PM)

    It has been transcending through a couple of odd years moving on towards the forefront of the third since the read on Miss Indira Babbellapati`s poems are spraying lemons on the sins of life and its dire consequences-sorrows, losses, gains, wins, passions, regrets in all allegories and rhetorics.The verses are also precise and lucid and therefore forays with all-from henchmen to bugbears, from learner to learned as we are all beaten slowly slowly from life to death.But in her poems the minds somehow feel be invested where damp squibs of daily life are turned with her touch into real and resplendent stuffs-truths so acidic and loaded with the contemptible art of cluttered expletives for me especially who is a lily-livered writer.But ever since i know is that the what i called a slice of life was never fulfilled until it guzzled up the dishes of Miss Babbellapati edge-on-the-seat where it starts and meanders.In German-ausgezeichnet and in English-outstanding.

    7 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Patrick A. Martin (10/10/2009 12:11:00 AM)

    Indir Babbellapati is a poet of distinction. A sculturess of the written word. When looking for gems that sparkle go to her page you won't be diappointed.
    Patrick A Martin

    11 person liked.
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  • Pitilosi Mdala (9/20/2009 5:08:00 PM)

    I am so into sand sculpture

    9 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Ranjit Ravindran (9/17/2009 2:21:00 PM)

    An angel of goodwill with childlike innocence,
    Lively and cheerfulness in abundance,
    Caring mother with great patience,
    Teacher by profession with exceptional brilliance,
    Poet at heart with supreme valiance,
    Translator of literature, Telugu by preference.

    6 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ata khan (3/29/2009 7:26:00 AM)

    I like how you listed your poems

    5 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Sivan P.G Menon (7/14/2008 10:59:00 AM)

    Dear Indira..

    Is exploitation…Oppression…. Misdemeanor.. a legacy?
    Men…its time we change …

    Head strong content of human right …social commitment…
    Relevant eternally…

    Crisp..Bold & hard hitting! ! !

    Regards…

    Sivan..

    6 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Jerry Hughes (7/16/2007 2:46:00 AM)

    A sheer delight to read this taleted lady's work...

    6 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Best Poem of indira babbellapati

' A Poem That Woke Me Up! '

I dwell
In the absence
You left behind

That absence occupies me

I dabble
In the silence
You fill me with

That's my silent connect

This heart
Still sings
The moonlight sonata of yore

That silent score sustains me

My breath
Still draws in
The perfume dabbed on this skin

That silently nurtures hope in me

Every night
I bury tear for you
In my heart

That quenches my heart's thirst

Read the full of ' A Poem That Woke Me Up! '

A Surreal Moment

in the midnight hours
my soul abruptly taps
me on my cheek
into wakefulness
all around me
faint shadows of
increasing complexities
and absurdities grow
larger than life and

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