Jagannath rao Adukuri Poems

Here, in October, scores of dragonflies
Fly about like miniature airplanes
Speckled butterflies collide with them
Floating in the air like catamarans
...

She pretends she does not limp
Resting a hand on the wobbly knee
Her bones could be heard creaking
She does not acknowledge this.
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The Bankura Horses
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What floated idly in our dreams
Incorporated our liquid selves,
Quickly, into its fluffy cotton clouds.
We are not we of our dreams
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The city lay crumpled in a quiet corner
The evening smelt onion-peels and roast
The sun slid below an unfinished house
The white ghosts had still time to return.
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We had stolen their God
From their jungle homes
We had needed Him more.
We then made Him lovingly
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It rained all night
Frogs croaked
From muddy cesspools
Wet crows shivered
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Try collecting sea-smelling cowries
Blow through the aperture of the conch
Hear, hear what you would like to hear
Like the chugging train's clackety
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The Lord of the Universe secured my sanity
Images of wooden Gods, of a jungle neem tree
Interspersed with celebrations of celestial love
The theme remained of beauty in sandstone
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Kudos to Kolkata's kids
With lily-white cheeks
And lightweight stomachs
Scrounging for food crumbs
...