Let my poems----
*****************
Let my poems not peep into the
World direct
From the surgical tables
Or after a hold up at incubators
Or crying at intensive care units

I feel pleased
If it emanates from heart
As labour room
Despite the due inductions
And after needed contractions
Let it come and sit on the pure screens
Or on snow white pads

Some how I am unable to sustain any

Sheepish looks
Coronary gasps
Gynic groans
Optical impairs
Arthritic tumbles
Ortho paedic tramps
Burnt and bruised skins

Of my poems

I also can’t permit my poems to hear

The screeching sounds of moving stretchers
Curt echo of swirling knives
Or nauseating anaesthetic odours
Or even blaring honks of arriving ambulance

I can’t allow them to stare at
The nurses’ teeth grinds
The doctors bill rounds
Ward boys waspish threats
Sweeping lots surly shouts

Let my poems descend on to
Papers or web shots
Hale and healthy
To reach the loving hearts
And to caring hands

Let the hospitality of hospitals
Go deeper and deeper into drains
I don’t mind
the insurance premiums
BemoanS' for longer periods
I don’t care

Let my poems come
Direct from the heart
Like new born babes
With no complications as such
Noticed ever and forever

R.PURUSHOTHAMARAO
Supani123@YAHOO.COM