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Bhamidipati Rishi...

PO# 604483
India
India
A reader who writes. A writer who reads.
May 19, 2019
Bengaluru, India

Back in those cantonment days -
When all those footwear would line themselves up on the make do wooden stand,
I'd pick those long huge boots out,
And try to fit my feet into them.
The fit would evidently be out of place
I'd convince myself though, and keep dragging those huge boots along,
Half believing them to be just right for me - and me for them,
Half wanting to be worthy enough someday to put those on.
Times changed, and I outgrew the person -
I outgrew his shirts which no longer fit,
I outgrew his suggestions which no longer agree -
So I tried his boots on again,
And yet, for some reason, I couldn't outgrow them.
I still can't fill his shoes.
Love sometimes feels like insufficiency.

Is...

WHITE CLOCK
1
0
May 12, 2019
 

There's another me -
Another me who holds your hand
Not because he wants to -
All every me ever wanted was to hold your hand -
But this me -
This another me senses the shiver in your hands this world causes
This me finds your hands colder than the last time they wiped your tears all night
This me looks through the strength your tightly fisted hands hold
This me finds the exclusivity in audience to your vulnerability
This another me takes every hint you leave the another you to give -
There's another me, who's in love with you.

There's another me -
Another me who holds on to you -
When he sees you slipping slightly away, every day.
All every me ever wanted was to hold you tight -
But this me ...

FOLLOW YOUR HEART
0
0
April 4, 2019
Bengaluru, India

~1
The first time I saw her was in the summer of '98
The sun that year was harsher than usual -
And grandma wasn't, hence.
Maybe they had a deal - playing good cop, bad cop.
Grandma got to be the good one,
Punishments were still the same, leniency more -
Force feeding still a routine -
Love, more
During one of those, convincing - requesting - iterating cycle
Someone rushed in - the anklets rhythmically piercing the silence that grandma and I would revel in together
(The feeding cycle was a quiet routine too)

Anger spilled out from the bottom of my heart -
Grandma and I would play two bad cops -
Two utterly immoral bad cops
Punishing the perpetrators of peace that we made for ourselves an ab...

POETRY MONTH
1
0
April 2, 2019
Bengaluru, India

Have me met before?

I've been to the coffee place you were describing yesterday
Several times -
I always take the table on the farthest corner,
Between the bonsais and the marble dolphin that keeps spitting fragrant water.
Of all days though, only once did the water smell of the frangipanis like in the garden of my grandma's village
I wonder thus, if you were on the other side
Right across from the Dolphin's tail
Smelling in the scents while I was too,
Have we smelled together the smell of frangipanis?
Have we met before?

This reminds me though,
The last time I went to my hometown -
Every time I visit my hometown -
I go to the garden at sunset everyday.
The small pond across the bushes
(Whe...

POETRY MONTH
1
0
April 2, 2019
Bengaluru, India

How to Breathe

Lately, I've been feeling quite out of breath
I open my mouth fully
To suck in all there is around
And end up empty from inside
I put my finger in - as far as I can
To see if there is something stuck
Of all the pieces I've been trying to ruminate of late -

My finger does all the probing
I've learnt diagnosing my issues myself
And the results are finally out -
I've been choking on darkness for far too long now
And in the process, I've forgotten how to breathe.

I'll read out to you though, the revision notes I've made -
Of the refresher course I've been taking.
I'll tell you how to breathe -
Long and hard and deep and heartfelt.

Close your mouth - and nose
And walk away as fa...

POETRY MONTH
2
1
January 15, 2019
Chilkamarri, India

We own houses -
Claim rooms in them
Call dibs on beds we like
Have cutlery we like to eat with.

The aisle seat on the bus we travelled yesterday in,
Was ours for the whole night,
The first chair in the third bay towards South
And the second one in the fifth bay far North
Were both our workplace abodes
The latter an unexplored stranger once
The former just a fading memory now.

The little tent to sleep away the day's trek
Is more home than the mountains are,
The night in the tent though, reminds us of the home we leave behind,
For the pillows back home know our tears better.
The curtains back home though, aren't as much a home
As the blue ones at Grandma's home are.
The mountains that tease f...

LIGHT LETTRS LOGO
1
0
February 9, 2018
Bengaluru, India

I wonder how love is warm!
Love, to me, is cold
Punishingly and freezingly cold
Love, to me, is dark
Blindingly and crampingly dark.

Numerous years of building yourself
And one day, all of a sudden
You fade out.
You lose yourself
In your mind, In your dreams
She is all that you see.
Like your existence never mattered
But for the eyes that see.
Like your days never mattered
But for her smiles in glee.
Like your nights never mattered
But for her eyes in your dreams.
It's cold that you fade so thin
Dark that you're thrown out from within.

Then love arrives
You fade thinner
Until you can't tell yourself from her
Until you smile alike, and cry together.
Clouds of darkness, that loom above her
Ki...

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY
0
0
December 17, 2017
Bengaluru, India

Maybe it was the twenty third shot
Or was it thirty second?
I lost count
Gulping down one after the other
Bottoms up every time
Perfect blends in servings
Cocktails by the performer
Melancholy with a tinge of hope
The broken heart ballads
The crowd favourite cliches
All with that one expectant smile
Garnished with the same lies as ever
"You guys are the best crowd ever"
And I believed him
Knowing he said it every time
To everyone, no regrets ever.
I believed him
Because I wanted to
Because he reminded me of her
He reminded me of her promises of forever
Maybe she said it many times
To many people, in many ways
Maybe I even knew
But
I still believed it
For it felt good.
When the singer would s...

TIS THE SEASON
1
0
November 20, 2017
 

You poured in like rain
And I thought you were it
I kept getting drenched
My thirst never quenched
And you? You never told
You never told you were passing
You never told I was a pit stop
And when you left, you never told.

The drops were just no longer there
Your arrival though, had hints
It stormed, It thundered
I waited, I wondered
It was all set up,
Everything was set up
But the climax was bad
The story ended abrupt
And I was left hanging
I was a lunatic dancing
Hoping the shower was still there

In streets  covered
Under trees that held on to the drops
I looked for the last shower
But it wasn't like rain
It was nothing like rain
Nothing ever was like you again

If only you'd have told m...

POETRY BOOKS
2
0
May 30, 2017
 

The mornings are impatient,
I live to dream with you.
The nights for you are meant.
I dream a life with you.

The Dawn is a journey,
Seeking dusk.
The dusk is a fantasy
Seeking Dawn

And in this paradox I could never bend,
Before it could start, my love did end.

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MAJOR STEPHEN REICH
1
0
May 30, 2017
 

And when she finally made peace with her being a smelly cat,
She was told it was okay.
She was told it wasn't her fault.

Only to believe again that she could be loved.
Only to believe it wasn't her fault.
Only to believe that she'd be cared for.

To what avail?
For she'd be left alone,
She'd be the smelly cat she always was.
With futile hopes all over again.

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MAJOR STEPHEN REICH
1
0
May 30, 2017
Secunderabad, India

She sang to him. He wrote for her.

Music to him was noise. Words to her were meaningless.

He was a wordist. She was a melomaniac.

Yet they found solace in each other’s company,
For words gave her song a story,
And music lent his story admirers.

Together, their song was completed.
Just like their lives were.

MAJOR STEPHEN REICH
2
0
May 30, 2017
 

The day you are 60 and she 58.

You unable to get out of bed; she denying any memory of you with her.

You half paralysed and she suffers Alzheimers.

That is when you need to promise her of togetherness.

For today, her skin does that to her.

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MAJOR STEPHEN REICH
1
0
May 30, 2017
 

I ask you if you know me
I ask myself the same
The books I read? The pain I need?
Or at least my dead pet's name?

The stories you're told, the chosen I hide.
Do I remember the origins?
The heroics I add, the tales I twist
I never told you the omitted sins.

The lust I hid, the love you felt
Have I mastered being a fake?
The Half Blood Prince, the act begins
No! I am the Voldemort's Snape.

Years of writing, tons of recitals
My strength - Your weakness, the deceiving song
The fakings and deceivings, I've unmet myslef
Have I played it a bit too long?

MAJOR STEPHEN REICH
1
0
May 20, 2017
 

So what do I do?

I could hint her about the volcanoes I hide.
I could tell her about the lava inside.
I could show her the burns that won't subside.
But will it do?

Then what do I do?

I could take her to places only her dreams knew.
I could make all her fantasies come true.
I could build her a world with sorrows few.
But will it do?

Then what do I do?
I could sing her songs of hillside greens.
I could get her to reminisce the lusty teens.
I could offer her to own me by all means.
But will that do?

Then what do I do?
Then what do I do?
Her highness ain't easy
So the ballads are true?

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ANTHONY CIOFFI
0
0
May 17, 2017
 

She sang to him. He wrote for her.

Music to him was noise. Words to her were meaningless.

He was a wordist. She was a melomaniac.

Yet they found solace in each other’s company,
For words gave her song a story,
And music lent his story admirers.

Together, their song was complete, just like their lives were.

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DRAWING DAY
1
0
December 5, 2016
 

e refused to cry; for crying wouldn't help.
He was in trance; for awake wasn't what he wished to be.
He was in trance; for sleep wasn't something he was blessed with.
He was in trance; hoping to be woken up.
He was in trance; keeping the flood of teardrops at shore.
He was in trance; hoping to be woken up to dreams.
For reality wasn't something he could afford.
And sleep wasn't something his fate spared for him.

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DARK DEPTHS
1
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November 8, 2016
Hanamkonda, India

Her eyes were so deep, till miles infinity.
The waters in her eyes were familiar, for he had swum in them for eternity.

Her lips were so red, the colour infinity.
The taste of her lips seemed familiar, for he had locked his with hers for eternity.

Her hair was so dense, the curls infinity.
The touch of her hair felt familiar, for it had sheltered him for eternity.

Her smile was so contagious, patients infinity.
The reasons for her smiling were familiar, for he had been one for eternity

Her presence was an addiction, odds against rehab infinity.
The chemicals of the drug were familiar, for he had smoked them for eternity.

His dreams were the same, repetition infinity.
The real her looked ...

VOTE 2016
2
0
November 6, 2016
Hanamkonda, India

The scorching sun may pierce your skin and burn the joy within.

The heavy drops may seep deep and drown the hope within.

The two of them, as a tag team, may shackle the souls that sin.

But the rainbow that forms when you survive the both, is what lets you win.

ORIGINAL
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