Poems by Anusha U

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PIc by Anni Roenkae

 

 

War Zone

Kindly pay attention

This is a war zone!
Not your comfort
Cozy extravagant life.
Be prepared to meet
For you may see many
And kill many
Or you will be killed
All at once.
Kill others or
Be killed by others.
All are enemies
With none being friends.
No chance of sentiments
Emotions, feelings.,
Empathy, sympathy.
Nothing.
You are here to fight.
Fight all and survive
Or
Be doomed to death.
Need food?
Fight others and come first.
Need clothes?
Attack all and come soon.
Need air?
Kill all and earn it.
First come, first serve.
This is a war zone.
For humanity
To survive
Think of yourself.
No other lives
Matter, only you.
You need to survive
Then fight dear.
Only way to survive
Way to battle
Life itself is a battlefield..
Fight the
Known and unknown.
Survival is the rule.
No other rules apply.

Attention all,
Life is a battlefield:
Not your comfort zone now.


 

You can carry the universe!

Look around
The whole universe in front
of you.
There is sky,
Stars,air,
clouds,forests,
mountains,
trenches,
oceans,
birds,animals,
rocks,soil-
All in one whole universe.
Dear.
It is for you.
You can carry all these.
Pour out the soul,
It will suck all these merriments.
Engulf it.
Can cover all these.
Dear.
You can carry the universe.
You are the universe.
Your soul is the vast vaccum
Surrounding this universe.
Infact
You are the universe, dear.


 

Pandora’s Box

The bell rings for lunch:
The silence in classrooms
Violated to sudden roars,
upheavals,blissful enchantments.
All lessons behind,
now lessons for bellies.
The sudden ruptures,
happiness,
curated to satisfactions.

Bell for lunch-
there opens the pandora’s box!
Lunch boxes collaborating into
one whole thesis.
All the sectors joining hands together.
Push and pull,normal and lunacy,
Little eating and over eating:
All enjoying all meals.
Life in a conundrum.
All hands and all sails.
Moving the ship together.
All bellies blissful
Many tastes emerging from around.
The palatable dissect of relish,
condiment leaving mouths watery.
Life at its best.
The struggles of eating,
Savouring all meals,
Veg to non veg….
All at one mouth,
Every mouth is sensing new tastes.
The sounds of enjoyable gratitudes…
The classroom turns into a pandora’s box.


 

Textbook Quotes

The remembrance of past verses!
Shakespeare and Shelley bulging out…
Wordsworth and Blake smiling hearts out…
Lamb pouring the rhythm of hoarse life..
Milton conjoining with the Bible of Jesus,
Dr Johnson himself creating a dictionary,
Tennyson waving at depths of seas,
Browning mastering dramatic monologues,
Walter Scott conjuring the dead castles.

Here lies our literature text..
With tons of memories
and volumes of pastimes.
All broke into our elegance,
weaving the magic of peachy keen.
We being fiddle footed and dud
Mastered all the artists:
For rewards of marks
gathered our careers.
We know
These are real masters,
without which literature is zero.

Our hearts still ache,
for we learned a few,
missed many.
The rhyme of exams
turned us into quoting machines…
Those texts are our pastimes..
Still memorising golden olden days.


 

A Google Classroom

The new face of modern era:
Google classroom.
Here you are-
teacher at one end.
All students at the other.
Faces being
Glued to voices.
The boon of technological advance
Sometimes a bane.
Students at hide and seek:
Teacher trying to catch them.
Roll calling names,
some appearances are deceptive.
The receivers at bed,
or playground or cafe or marriage.
The classroom authority now at
pleading mode.
Portions covered at fast pace:
Teachers are blissful.
The new era of classroom
Changing student teacher relation.
Googled classrooms
For googled students.


 

You can find me!

Just imagine I left this world.
No.
It is not.
I would be here
All around the world
For I needed to be with you.
See me on the bed clothes,
I used to curl upon.
See me on the sofa
I used to sit by.
See me on the kitchen top
My most favourite place.
Just see me on the cupboard
I used to keep it clean.
You can see me on the garden
Roaming around flowery tops.
I am there on my neem tree,
Preventing all iihealth out.
I am there at front door
Welcoming with comforting smiles.
I am really there at bookshelves
Contemplating my favourite character.

You can see me all around.
The home is in me.
But
You need to see it.
Look it.
View it.
Watch it.
Or I am lost forever.


 

Freedom Calls

The mad woman in the street.
Singing merrily, high pitches
Procuring sounds of wonderful notes.

I cannot understand a word:
Some unknown language,phrases:
But the song is soothing..

Her sounds of blissfulness
Soothing and smothering the ears.
Incorporating joy all around.

She sings and dances
Her moves unknown,unfamiliar,
But trending with ecstasy..

The envisioned humanity
Bulging with threads of wonders.
How can she be so happy..

I find out dears.
She is free.
Freedom is at her hands.

She is drinking the cup of freedom
Moment by moment,enjoying the true sources,
Her life is insanely free.

Sanity cannot buy freedom,
but chains of slavery.
Madness brings freedom at glance.

I know not how to put it:
Seeing her insanity
My freedom is calling me dears.


 

About the Author

Anusha U works as an Assistant Professor in English at Mother Theresa College,Trivandrum. Her poems have been published in anthologies  Cascade, Limerence, Nobody knows but You, Flames and Roses and online magazines like Indian Periodical and Literary Yard.