Madhu Goteti
Bio
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Stories (41/0)
Identity
Identity Into dying arms of fate my mien was staged stillborn As topsy-turvy over twisted brows, inlaid upon those majestic crowns ! O! Such stuff hung up in air, quite contrary, on its own; Into airings put forth— as in—untenable breaches; Unto risings ineffable so tempestuously grown O! Look! To that, A subdued pang, a dead beat to an impulse, still lingers on… And ,as of , in cut-throat melancholy, none the worse, for that : I was born Yet seeding underneath and beneath that constant twist of destiny, a humble hope hankered to live on … For though, as in the broken, while the wreathing harrows blew their arrows, and so frighteningly—“ affront ,”came in this —“sorrow,” to forge on and on … Therein, my feebler spirit lifted off of it’s own wings, to gently gather more and more ……..hope……which lent my soul to expectantly—carry on ! So such , being fully borrowed… I built on … Thusly, as the raging yonder fell upon fury, eclipsing all those virtues in a world —so scurrilously spun To this, my heart, from bright red to cold white, sought it’s own contents’ calm. And thereof , thinking if I shut it close, that would make it all so warm ?! But, the rendering speech which lights up the everyday, got freshly born! I was reborn ! Yes, I was reborn …. As if, showing up in words, as I would, in all it’s paradoxical forms— written , unwritten ,and “in-between,” those flowering words to take on a new form… O! No! That gave off sometimes, and I appeared as a mere flaunt! Thereby—daring to say and/ or hear, what’s hard, and above all; about what, others have blundered upon Unsayable, as it is, in this diverse world of unequals , the secular in me just carries on, to live on ,yet thereupon, all alone! ‘Tis Quite right, when you say — I was transformed... Into another into which, my essence takes shape to another form; and with it’s casualness left to a yonder’s sojourn! Here is where I belong! Yes, my life has taken its own divergent turn…I am that I am … a resonating 🧭 soul passing through times’ turn —to experience so much more than ☝️ one ; more of which traversing in this realm; of all that is and of all there is —in knowing this life and it’s ultimate source of creation. ✍️ Signing off as me, myself and I @ birth , rebirth and life-between-lives as I truly try to bring LIFE BACK TO LIFE ✨✨✨🌟💫✨✨✨ © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, Dec 6th, 2023
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Poets
LIFE in a Smooth Sail!
That was when I was young, with innocence falling upon coffins; for others to mock on Crucially so, this is when a rough ruffler was called upon, and with his two fold follies, he dug up graves —into which, I was casually thrown! Not so much as in reality, my presence, as it is —not much to be seen, with no trace of it’s formerly, was completely gone.. Then on, tacitly tearing a sense so common, left to tatters, that in which, I had claimed all as my very own —was all gone ! Then abhorring the senselessness which hopscotched my soul as some evildoers pun …Perhaps there, the WILL—the bread n butter of my sustenance —kick- balled me to a powerless 🏃♀️ run! But…. Seemingly determined, reveling me into a person: in actuality, I was overrun! Perhaps ,That WILL which did well to distill my deaths’ —mocking return— had again—gradually overturned! And there , For there— in the grave lay stand still, that heaven’s injustice, all smoothly wrapped up with all its ills burnt. Then, ‘Twas a total inversion of the deep faith; As all had turned into a tragedy and reckoned into a nothingness of none Yes, it all came up as an illusion; an oblivion smooth; smoothly sagacious; sailing smooth on every turn ! And here, over smooth seas, this savage life when so dastardly and daringly runs; Much so much as to yield, to seek, it so quickly churns, Mixing one day with another, milking each day worse than the other; ultimately, it turns, all into ☝️ one! And in this course ,it shrouds up in face, like a thistle twisted upon a full fledged frown, Thence—Onwards trickles this Crushing calm , halting those trembling tears -that —smoothly roll on — so long ! That in which we expect one thing, altogether another gets pushed around! Further on…. Those quivers on lips, bent over as holdings, for some grandly staged song And as to one whimper, a cry stills in silence —as if, like a tyrant’s sign, it all rises up on a twilight dawn Thereupon, Beheld upon those moments, a gale unnoticed , rustles by, on it’s own ; yes, appearing unseen as an aged-out worn, For to- day, fully and surely, onwards it rushes , all out, through this remotest town Look ! It’s all unhinged, yet at lengthS breaking —those heartstrings, held to hopes —so far gone ! Then, Buried in sorrow, and journeying thro’ this grandly-vested -ribbed-out-gown— A mercy affixes in one track service, plunging down the throat as some recurrent moan! A throb then takes over it’s triumphal throttle, and stops at nothing unfinished; all closed up as ——-long withdrawn —— O ! Lo! Behold! where do those wanderings lead thee on , O! Halt! Ye breathing calm as idled woe drifts away in a sad song, Of those highs mixed with lows on some slumbering ground , O! there ,a treble warbles in lutes so, so, far too long, Within time echoing it’s celestial whispers as gently as it cruises along! Such so, set on Smooth sails some Souls move on! Guessing ?! This is how human nature copes to live by, wailing those miseries thro’ verses hidden in some sorrowful songs .. Oh! Look 👀 a singer is born ! There, UnSeen to the visible , dwellS in a vain valor, a soul distantly sitting afar -all alone And to it’s quiet stretches bequeathing all over those deserted pastoral lawns; Thriving upon those tufted meadows all so roughly grown ! Hitherto, all that its worth, and all that’s sought, gets taken, gets sunken, So, ‘tis a lil ... no , no , a lot is gone ! And before life pulls through onwards; whereof, when it beguiles to a final abscond… A Parting with no traces, no marks and no nothing, accents to a noiseless haunt O! Look! therein descends another silent tone still mastering to speak, though, smoothly—but, long dead on it's tongue O! Much as a frantic indignation to be tattered till it gets totally torn, And as things get bypassed as daunting shadows to another of those —early morns….. So, forthwith, believing in the ardent good, I think the big easy life has been run on —full on, Thence, Placing blushing honors unto stones As these death bells which thence —smoothly —dell on ! Lo! Behold! For a better curse which chases in persistence, prances herein, for so long, Whenever sentience bends above these mild sleeps; until the substance in soul has fully sown Yea, illuming the abyss , this innermost spirit rises to a lofty place, somewhere unknown… For over a tomb within those mossy planes It’s in blooms I lay finally grown ... far thrown ! And while the bells from the temple sprinkle holy laurels over the graced sounds O! Such everlasting are those evergreens —standing alone, as stalwarts in stately forms! And as in all , as lasting in forever, this elegy gets stamped-marked on—THAT cemented ground And as Much as a settled soul, my essence in presence has been fully sown —transformed! Yet again, in transition, an eternal glory, still majestically moves on; Coffined to a grave into those depths —quite unknown ! Then suddenly, lost ever to all appearances —like the emperors’s new clothes—I am gone ! It’s all gone ... Yea’! gliding in bathetic shifts, it’s s all gone , all gone , all gone ... bidding adieus , far from this sunny hearth - bidding it’s last farewells, it’s all gone .... Then …. Those sweet smiles fade away, Tending to tears that reveled around , With afflictions on mortals “his grace ,” has been finally shown ! Pouring over mansions of grief, he from up above showers supposed relief; As in mercies thrown in good grace, unto his chosen ones ! There, with full expectant eyes you may ask — Why does his charity so uniquely usher in relief as showers thrown ?! Why , redeeming us, O! in such a belief, Will it so rush on? Of what worth is this barter when heaven’s glory on earth—pays a heavy price to every Ounce ! For what calls us to live for this suffering from birth into times —smoothly races in a deathly bounce ; that which abounds all around! For whom we put our hearts on fire , by whom all owned is counted to a legions amount! As if, hastily calling us for summons, in grace or to a winning approval for our “worldly worth,” to be finally announced Is this life so pronounced ? yes , it’s this sweet life —smoothly sailing with it’s renewed intensity , just affirming itself, back to pounce ! So scattered unshrinkingly to every service of the heart , to every mind toiling hard , in recurring resets — in times, it all rebounds ‘Coz light is the mirth which rises quickly, ascending the swollen girth to a dance and pounce ... In it’s sheer evanescence, it gets up, dresses up, for yet another —naked truth to be reborn Yes , erasing this existence which makes false claims and thereupon , It shall be newly BORN .... And as in the consequence for those who walk those paths unbound, Failing to fetch me at first ,my maker, keeps me , thusly, so spellbound ! Yet this journey which invariably accompanies me from birth to rebirth , affirmatively says — Come, slide smooth and pass on; until all stages are over and your pithy works are all done —until then, MOVE ON!
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Poets
SANDS OF TIME
The Trailing Train 🚂 hooted and it was laboring along endlessly. It was on a prolonged run moving across many cascading turns. Everything was ensuing itself into this unwinding path of no returns. Needless to say, in all this, the tracks were also abruptly vanishing, and vaguely—the sensation was a total gooey amalgam. It was no illusion. The quasi in such a context was noticeable. But, in some connected sense, history was leading into a personage of ghastliest lineament.
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Fiction
Itchimekilieloo
I listened to her feet treading upstairs. She nudged the half open door as she walked in a haste. She intrigued me skillfully ,which in turn, made me probe her most perennially. Simply reinforcing this status quo, I followed her around with drift quickness. And so on and so forth, I got nicknamed as a “digger,” and she got celebrated well as a “tripper ,” most candidly for her brisk movements.
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Fiction
A Tiny Tale of Overturned steps!
Genre : Humor Once upon a time... 👁️😣❤️🔥😣👁️ A Tiny Tale of Overturned Steps ! I looked at him, the holder of my heart for what he had done. On this earth 🌍, it’s a whole new world. I couldn’t help but think so. And looking at life from that angle seemed no surprise to me. I thought to myself —“With eyes shut, are we blinded to suspect any foul play in our graced destinies. No, it can’t be ! “ Thinking so, I moved on.
By Madhu Goteti 7 months ago in Humor
Watch Me Dare and Declare!
Watch me dare and declare ! There’s no stopping me . Yes, I have to make this confession, and dare to share it with the reader naturally. Face to face, I meet you here and fully realize that my life may not mean much to you, but with great intentness, I hope ( sincerely praying 🤲) that the trivialness of my making doesn’t disturb you immensely. Instead,🙏 bury this writing quickly if you get tensely tired reading it word to word , thoroughly 😅!
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in Chapters
Poetic Reverence
Right here in my world lives hope. And forging ahead whence comes determination, a source to promote purposeful writing. To me, writing has always been a soulful experience. I was accustomed so,very early, to seek for a variance in sound and syntactic structures, quite naturally.
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in Writers
The Da Vinci Code 2003
One sees it for its worth: Priceless! Allusive! It's more than what meets the ear. Historians may get astounded while seeking credulity thro' it's false conspiracies. Cryptographers can get seduced from the truth while attempting to deduce facts from fiction. Perhaps a staunch reader can experience a cultural expedition through it.
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in Critique