Sunday, 11 December 2011

ಚಿತ್ರ ಕಾವ್ಯ-Picture poetry

After his sixty
Started looking like
A grandma.

For a child like me
Whole world seems dull
Without your presence, O Karantajja.

I was giggling in side
On the first day
When you weren't aware
Of my curves and stunned.

The fire of our youth
Turning into the piles of ash...
What a pity...

Sweet heart...
I am also
like a boiling pot.

The pace of old age walk
Seems like the slow foot steps
Following the death.

There is no time now
to listen the sigh of a grass.

1 comment:

  1. Very nice difficult to accept.. 3rd one is really good.....Best wishes