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Best Poems Written by Amrita Seemungal

Below are the all-time best Amrita Seemungal poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Morning's Play

DATE: 27th June, 2022.

POEM TITLE: A Morning’s Play 


In a misty morning simmer,
where droplets run along
blades of grasses in limber
to a game of ‘who grows bigger’
until a splatter rings a song,
a brief play date gone wrong.

Pearls on taro leaves form ripples,
upon the water's face,
rolling off like dimes and nickels,
as they bask in their clear flippers,
overlooking the country gnome,
“pitter-patter” they roam.

One eases it’s way out in orbs,
waving goodbye to friends,
translucent; it fully absorbs
the warm air as the body soars
along with the winds of July,
so long, fellow ally.

With the sun now driving it’s flares,
weeping flower heads rise,
nature awakes and dries it’s tears, 
a new day presents new affairs,
another chance of a surprise,
like play dates of the skies.


CONTEST NAME: Dewdrops Poetry Contest
SPONSOR: Angel L Villanueva

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Aching Heart

for the heart that hurts,

the rib cage embraces it,

the mind consoles it.

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Day's Hustle

teapots and teacups,

the aroma of coffee,

and the day's hustle.

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An Outcry

The countryside was their homeland, 
Buried in the rich soils were their sons’ navel strings, 
Nothing of their history was bland,
Not even the stain on their names or grit on their rings.

They toiled at life as if it was their last day,
Their dignity and self-respect was all that was left,
Making a sacrifice that little know of today,
Even their identities were liable to theft.

How lives are changed in this modern world,
The white lies tell of no more enslavement, 
Yet we are groomed to fit into their mold,
For a moment of liberation and enjoyment. 

Such is the world’s cruel reality, 
For the sake of sustenance and survival,
The wealthy living is given to the minority,
And the poor man works and cries in deprival.

Third world societies’ demise in hind sight, 
Yet they gloss it over with petty mess,
Dealing with trivial matters that concur their might,
Than those that seeks to make progress.

With their soft voices and layman words,
Who or what can they confront with their distaste,
If their dissatisfaction always go unheard,
What can a young child do to feel less displaced?

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The Paradox of the Sea

one calm, reposeful day, the wind chimes
played a rhapsody of serenity and peace.
each zephyr girdled by the ocean's air
layered the saltiness onto your skin.
a stroll on the esplanade rejuvenated
your dehydrated body and soul.
like a harbor for reflection, your mind
wandered about the limitless horizon,
swayed with the coconut trees'
branches and reached for the sun
against the silky, baby blue backdrop.
it was a perfect day to marvel at the world.
but, was the world enjoying it's view too?
in a contingent episode, nature showed
it's demeanor; it's fury ignited by infamy.
the unrestrained waters were beckoning,
tides were rising and waves caused
a raucous that solicited danger.
the quiet ambience was redacted,
chaos and madness in close vantage.
like that, life becomes at risk of desolation,
the untainted, crystalline sea waters that
created an idyll of a scene shifted to
a frame of terror and disturbance.
how absurd of nature to decoy a monster
from a then- tamed body of water.
a phenomenon of a tsunami
that can threatened the mere
spans of your homeland; an island,
a minute dot holding your little world.
you prayed that this day never comes.

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Midnight Goodbyes

oh how I romanticize the idea of you,
a happy-ever-after-kind of ending,
a fairytale love story of you and I,
of a prince charming to take my hand,
gently guide my steps to a waltz,
kiss me in the moonlight,
and tell me you love me.

how a dove will deliver my love notes,
one with the next date of our meeting,
we sit and admire each other in silence,
a blush washes our faces as we hold hands,
hours pass with us just being together,
and everything else in the world disappears.

when you first take me to your parents,
they welcome and treat me like their own,
they love me, if not more than you,
they accept me for you, their dearest son
and give us their sincerest blessings,
for a lasting bond wealthy of love.

but only one thing stands in our way,
time was of the essence...
I would leave you at midnight,
with excuses that grew tenfold,
until there were no more excuses.
just the truth of who I am to tell.

a middle class girl with more grit than jewels,
someone who dreams of the lavishness,
but a simple, traditional life is my reality.
one with an old soul in modern times,
who will capture memories and live
like it's my very first lifetime.

will you take my hand?
will you love me for who I am?
will you think of me at midnight?
will this glass slipper remind you of me?

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Spring's Gift

flowers bloom in may,

nectar for the visitors,

like a last spring gift.

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Kryptonite

you knew the feeling of weakness,
the tremble of your famished body,
the restless mope of a spirit,
groveling tired thoughts.
but then. . .

you laid eyes upon him,
you discovered another weakness,
fustigated with heart palpitations,
insides nerved with desire,
languid with infatuation.

a predilection of the soul,
your heart unwavering with love,
for he who made your body weak
makes you drown in exuberance too.
heart and mind perplexed in reactions.

how can his mere presence,
make you aberrate from yourself?
stoked in oblivescence of yesterday,
he becomes your now, your today
and everyday - satiating every thought.

he overpowers your senses,
your feelings, your gullibility to believe,
you are capitulated to his being
as someone who carries your world,
you needed him, you prayed for him.

but you couldn't have him,
you could never touch him,
you could not dream of him,
yet you were candidly in love
with a man who was your
kryptonite.

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Zombie Land

their bodies were present but
their eyes were scanning a screen,
their faces devouring the blue light,
of the small machines in their hands-
they were nothing less than walking zombies.

they typed in caps and illegible words,
tapping continuously without a blink,
messages were flooded in like signals,
emoticons of laughter and joy were sent
yet their faces wore deadpan expressions.

they shared words, stories, feelings.
authentic or not? the receiver is left to wonder,
honest or dishonest? they will never know,
exposed to content with credibility that
they cannot truly trust yet they gullibly believe.

they sit amongst their loved ones,
silently being consumed into the device,
no spoken word had passed the time,
relations grow bleaker and they wonder,
with memories missed and left uncreated.

they deviate from the outside world,
entrapped within a capsule of a virtual drug,
an addiction that cannot be overcame,
unless they find leverage that most fail,
life is reduced to an online adrenaline.

their worth being dependent on strangers'
opinions and dispositions - more than theirs,
inevitably toxic for reasons that others love,
some find themselves, others lose themselves
it can build, connect but also destroy them.

they are losing their sense of humanity,
this modern age could be the era of a
zombie apocalypse- leaving humanity
in a dire state of being less human and
more of a population of disembodied spirits.

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Cosmic Rhythm

she had a burning desire; an egocentric thrill.
a need to disrupt the constancy of her life,
to dramatically dissociate from conformity,
and become the sole dweller of her universe.
one that rebels it's place in the cosmos.

she was already remote from the others,
outrageously imposing and other-worldly,
she accentuated perfect idiosyncrasy.
for her icy mantle that created fog halos,
she carried a core imbued with a fever.

she fanned the flame to burn into an inferno,
until she shifted her life into full retrograde,
bridging together the divides of her nature,
she activated her freedom and individuality;
a woman of color in a monotonous crowd.

with life's impermanence cruelly threatening,
she manifested every energy in abundance,
channeled her soul's sacred wavelength,
hauled her dreams into subliminal orbit,
for she had one chance to envision her self.

voyaged into a black hole of introspection.
unaffected by forces that oscillate around her,
she dismantled every negative tendency,
and like a celestial body as eccentric as Uranus,
she awakened her own cosmic rhythm.