“Write for me a letter” , said ..

Everything has a time ,
Every day is mine ,

Let the day be yours , or call it ours ,
Keep it as a present or as a cure .

You never write this for me ,
I told you several times .

Say , it with mirth , say it aloud ,
Let they hear ,  let them swallow .

Go into the open space  , get some fresh air ,
Spell it out even louder  , let them feel it too .

I have felt it , I have seen it , [but] ,
Have not heard it often , from you .

I demand an epic , ages old style letter ,
In my name , in the name of truth,honesty and good news .

Not that , I know not ,
Not that , not that it cannot .

But , for the pleasure , it holds ,
For the peace it gives .

For the frustration , it vanishes ,
For the purity it reveals  .

Say it , say it several times ,
I hear it from many , but from special mine .

From others , it sounds gross or just good ,
From you  , I know it would be as pure as you.

Length of your writing , is upto you ,
Motions , should pierce my heart and reach back to you .

I ‘ll appreciate and nod a yes , for all you write ,
Write it like never written before .

Let they , be jealous ,
Let they , be at unrest .

Not that , they have done injustice ,
But , just because they haven’t been as expressive as you.

Thereby , I made a request to you in private ,
But , let the answer be made public .

Let the museums , have it in highest jewel ,
Let it be , the wealthiest master penned .

Worry not , about the handwriting ,
Its beautiful , with patience and style .

Worry about , pleasing me ,
For all I bow , is now or never .

It may sound as a joke , it will ,
I was infact joking , when I said worry .

I have complete faith in you ,
Whatever you do , I ‘ll abide by .

Whatever you write  ,
Will be for me , in facts .

Bharath R Rao



He spoke to me  . . . . .

Those eyes rain now ,
Heavier than ever recorded ,
Enough to drench the droughted land ,
Boon for farmers ?

Every inch of his skin groans and growls ,
Louder than the loudest shriek ,
Severe than the labour pain ,
Mother is blessed or vicitim is cursed ?

Not a morsel , digests down the gutt ,
Like the apex that remains fixed to its position ,
Its , will against necessity ,
Good for statues , but human ?

Hearing him ,  I feel sorrow ,
Not about what I hear from him ,
But about his loneliness ,
Is talking to a wall , all is what he deserves ?

Ailing , coughing ,  he walks in his old age ,
Young he is , strong and firm though ,
Gloomy scar has wrapped him all around ,
Like a tattoo or never ending memory ?

Asked him , suggested him , to have faith ,
He listened , agreed , and follows even ,
Odds are in number while hopes at least ,
Killing him every second  or  paralyzed forever ?

Months went by , weeks are in motion ,
Months will go again , weeks will retrace back ,
Weak he ‘ll remain forever if he holds not firm to the months he has ,
To be strong or to feel defeated ?

I feel defeated ,  I lost to his questions ,
I never felt short of answers , but he failed me ,
I can only hope for wellness ,
Can’t say if , he get back to track or derail !

Bharath R Rao


That midnight ,  I slept like I won’t sleep ,
I slept like , it was a day , waiting for the night .

I had to arise before the sun did in my place ,
I had to , when clock struck 3 in the morning .

But , the sleep diagnosed me to the best ,
Kept me in its arm till the late in morning .

Only , to find in the morning , that I failed ,
To get up , before the sun did .

I failed to be punctual , they speak about ,
I let down my sun , who was waiting to be defeated .

Bharath R Rao


A roar of a tigress  , a cry of an ailing bird . . .

I was a tigress then ,
I made my own way .

I jumped onto you ,
And , scratched you to death .

Was that a mistake or your destiny ?
For you returned alive , even worse .

I feel caged now ,
My wings of freedom have begun to wither .

I was sorry before , but not anymore ,
You were alive then but now , dead forever .

My claws that were strong once ,
Are weaker like nails .

My mind that was fearless at that peak ,
Is wanting peace that a bird deserves .

Forgive me for my sins ,
Be not a sinner , in return .

Leave me alone at my den ,
Free me from this cage you made .

I am a lone survivor ,
Not a bird that you [want to] buy her .

Bharath R Rao

My wife is getting married again

My wife is getting married again ,
Proposals expected are back in fashion .

I ‘ll let her do it , if she is willing to ,
I’ ll let her hold him , if she is wanting to .

How do I dress up the bride ?
How do I manage to hand over ?

She is fragile , she is a mess at times ,
I sticked her back in shape , I was a sweeper at times .

Will the new groom be as well as me ?
Not that I am the best , but I can handle her better .

Like dreams , is my wife ,
Like philosophy , are my proses .

If you thought it was a reality ,
It is real , else , philosophy is in your platter .

Bharath R Rao