Ritika Devarakonda

Ritika Devarakonda Apr 2017

There was once a little girl who held a rose
She ran through gardens
Feeling grass beneath her toes
She sensed sand stinging her feet
And snowflakes freezing her hands
A face brightened with Joy
With Happiness and Love

Years passed by,
But the girl knew
It would never be the same

Time went on and they couldn’t be stopped.
They ravaged through countries
Killing the forests with great pride and joy
Just for a shred of gold and material wants.

The girl wanted a voice
A voice to speak up
But they never listened

The girl soon forgot
The color of the sand
The feel of the snow
The everlasting sun
All was lost

The girl grew up
She stopped caring- about Roses
Forgetting the animals, moon, and stars
Now she was them

Thick masses of smog now a sky
No more plants
No more blue skies
No more wandering along the shoreline
No more falling snowflakes on our tongues

Eventually, there was no sun
Sun lamps
And plaster brown grass
There were no plants, animals, and eventually we.
Don't you see?
We are destroying ourselves
Piece by piece.

#love #happiness #nature #earth #dystopia

Apr 2017

SM

Complemented

the coldness
of the metal
against her skin,

the warmth
of the crimson
staining her wrists,

they complemented each other
so perfectly,
in a way that she never
complemented
her love.

#cutting #depression #suicidal #selfharm #selfdestruction #newpoet

Ritika Devarakonda Mar 2017

What if Fish had a say?

A wonderful blue, strong and bold.
A marvelous place, with much to see.
Our delightful oceans, and our sea.

A marvelous world where so many lurk,
Where we sharks, crustaceans, and octopi work.
We live free, oh so carefree.

The oceans hold strength, power, and control.
Without them, our lives would surely fall.
We must thrive with mouths held high.

Unlike humans, who take far more than they need,
We shan’t be corrupted by such greed.
They **** our oceans.
They **** each other.
We mustn't give in to the evil above.

We speak for the dead.
Whose souls have turned to dust,
With only skins left behind.

Which all life will become, if we **** our great oceans.
For if we **** them, we **** our Earth too.
All creatures, all life,
Goes with her too.

Such is the future, unless our oceans are saved,
From the greedy.
Who are causing destruction.
That they themselves can never escape.

For an assignment, a while ago.

#death #sea #fish #oceans

Mar 2017

Ganesha Michael Shapiro

fox medicine

our hands are like flowers
eaten by a fox
we cut off our clothes
to make room for these words
and disguised our souls in nothing
feelings suspended we rear-ended the world
stood upon bridges waving at girls
shreds of starlight
reflect the falling carriages
sadness and birth are beyond your marriages
same story told throughout the eons
our personal feelings are diluted in the sea
just as we could no longer hold on
our shadows found the ground
and we floated down to safety

Ritika Devarakonda Mar 2017

Plastic

Islands of trash are forming.
Plastics are swarming.
The forgotten fish,
With Fishing nets adrift.
Plastic.

It never goes away.
The killer that cannot be killed.
Our fish are dying,
Our baby dolphins are crying.
Plastic.

Bottles thrown to float,
Choking throats of the dying.
They’re eating the rotten,
Our forgotten friends.
Plastic.

Trash is thrown to float,
Caps get stuck in sea turtles throats,
Our oceans are too lovely,
To make them all turn ugly,
With all this plastic pollution.

Once a beauty,
Our oceans are filthy
But maybe someday,
The oceans will once again live in peace.

Plastic, a killer.

#plastic #fish #ocean #harm #environment

Ritika Devarakonda Mar 2017

Breathing in, out

R~, a name so vibrant,
Teeming with endless vitality,
She was named to flow through the ripples of the stream.

Lacing within the folds of clear liquid,
Weaving through the movement,
Breathing in, out.

Unconstrained, forever free, traveling with currents.
Spilling, gushing out from the motion,
Rising above to disappear,
Breathing in, out.

Formulating in little crystal droplets,
Swirling into cotton candy in the sky.
Transforming into birds, fish, happy things.
Breathing in, out.

Shapes churning into sudden wisps of thick gray,
Consuming brightness, leaving darkness.
Deafening booms of anger, bursting streaks of blinding white.

Pouring from the sky, endless invisible beads,
Heavy, weighing the petals of flowers down,
Collecting in pools of reflection.
The soft pitter-patter, a lullaby to the ear,
Falling once again upon the stream,
Merging with the currents of energy,
then slowing to a calm,
Breathing in, out.

Oh so vibrant,
Teeming with endless vitality,
Flowing through the ripples of the stream.

A poem for a friend.

#rain #water #name #stream #energy #ripples #vitality #watercycle