Tirupathi Chandrupatla


Automatic Door


No mantra to utter
No knob to turn
No button to touch
Mere presence
In the vicinity
Opens to eternity
Automatic door.

Sensor for each sense
Motor for the move
Timer for the delay
Logic and software
Embedded in the hardware
Hidden from the view
Automation at service
Comfort and convenience
Man's many inventions
Holding their ground
Life's little pleasures
Spring out and abound.

End of my shopping
Both hands full
I walk to the door
It slides open
A great wonder
Of modern world.

Submitted: Thursday, November 15, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, March 05, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Automatic Door by Tirupathi Chandrupatla )

Enter the verification code :

  • Ramesh Rai (3/19/2014 7:37:00 AM)

    No door is locked. We need to knock only and enter the room. Sometimes knocking is also not required, doors are opened automatically. A great philosophical write. (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. A Candid Portrait Of War, Dilantha Gunawardana
  2. An Apparatus, Keith Waldrop
  3. Advances, Keith Waldrop
  4. Majesty, Keith Waldrop
  5. In a Spring Still Not Written Of, Robert Wallace
  6. Giacometti's Dog, Robert Wallace
  7. Dearest Sister, Kaila George
  8. Wounded for me, Royston Allen
  9. A Soldiers Lament, Phil Soar
  10. The Sloth, Phil Soar

Poem of the Day

poet Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]