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Kuthaa Baiyaa Pyaraa Dost (Hindi Kavitha)

Kuthaa baiyaa, karthaa kyaa?
Biscoth chubbkar kaatha kyaa?
Maine thumko diyaa thaa
Ka lo, ka lo kuthaa yaar!

Kuthaa baiyaa, kaathaa kyaa?
Biscoth thumko lagthaa kyaa?
Cheeni jaisaa meeta kyaa?
Ka lo, ka lo kuthaa yaar!

Kuthaa baiyaa, kahathaa kyaa?
Jeeb sae jameen chaattha kyaa?
Chaaya ko thum choomtha kyaa?
Ka lo, ka lo kuthaa yaar!

Kuthaa baiyaa chaahathaa aur?
Mere pass sirf ek hi thaa;
Usko thumko diyaa thaa;
Dookaan se kareednaa phir.

Kuthaa baiyaa, kayaa kyaa?
Paani peena uske baadh;
Na tho hichki aayegaa;
Daddy aisa kahatha thaa.

Kuthaa baiyaa saaf rahana
Na tho mummy peetegi
Jab thum bhoonkne lagthe ho,
Dushman dar se bhaagtha hai

Kuthaa baiyaa pyaraa dost
Khel-koodh mein ‘always first’!
Bachchon ki suraksha- ‘best’
Kabhi kabhi lena ‘rest’!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-5-2007

poem by John Celes
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Maine

Relaxing on my* hands and knees
Relaxing on my* face
Reclining in the bear-trap of its tender warm embrace
Glazed with coniferous green
Glazed with excitement and dread
Exhausted from oversleep
Awake but still in bed
The shaving razors rusty but the sting brings you exactly back to
Maine
Is** the world that went south
Maine
Is** a punch in the mouth
Maine
At the top of the chart
Has crushed my evil heart
Maine
Is the devil you know
Maine
Is the heaven below
Maine
At the top of the chart
Has crushed my evil heart
I love you anyway (I love you anyway)
I promise theres no other state (theres no other state)
But only if you stay away (but only if you leave)
And leave me to my ugly state*** (me to my ugly state)
And give me back my evil heart so I can see you as you are in
Maine
Is the world that went south
Maine
Is a punch in the mouth
Maine
At the top of the chart
Has crushed my evil heart
Maine
Is the poison you love
Maine
Is the hell from above
Maine
At the top of the chart
Has crushed my evil heart

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sir Andrew Barton

The First Part
'When Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye;
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,
Over the river of Thames past hee;
When eighty merchants of London came,
And downe they knelt upon their knee.

'O yee are welcome, rich merchants,
Good saylors, welcome unto mee.'
They swore by the rood, they were saylors good,
But rich merchants they cold not bee.
'To France nor Flanders dare we pass,
Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;
And all for a rover that lyes on the seas,
Who robbs us of our merchant ware.'

King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde,
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,
'I thought he had not beene in the world,
Durst have wrought England such unright.'
The merchants sighed, and said, 'Alas!'
And thus they did their answer frame;
'He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas,
And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name.'

The king loot over his left shoulder,
And an angrye look then looked hee;
'Have I never a lorde in all my realme,
Will feitch yond traytor unto mee?'
'Yea, that dare I,' Lord Howard sayes;
If it please your grace to give me leave,
Myselfe wil be the only man.'

'Thou art but yong,' the kyng replyed,
'Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare.'
'Trust me, my liege, Ile make him quail,
Or before my prince I will never appeare.'
'Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have,
And chuse them over my realme so free;
Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes,
To guide the great shipp on the sea.'

The first man that Lord Howard chose,
Was the ablest gunner in all the realme,
Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten;
Good Peter Simon was his name.
'Peter,' sais hee, 'I must to the sea,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Allegany Camp

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Hindi Poem- Chehra

Sari Raat Yuhi Bita Di Maine,
Kitabo Ke Panne Palat Te Hue,
Kuch Khwab Bunte Hue,
Palko Tale Kuch Aansu Samete Hue,

Sari Raat Yuhi Bita Di Maine,
In Nain Naksho Ko Niharte Hue,
Apni Kamiyo Ko Dhundhte Hue,
Apni Majburi Par Rote Hue,

Soch Rahi Thi Main,
Kya Kiya Tha Maine,
Kyu Kiya Tha Maine,
Kya Achi Nahi Thi Sirf Vo Jaan Pehchaan,
Ki Dena Chaha Use Mohabbat Ka Naam Maine,

Soch Rahi Thi Main,
Kya Keh Gaya Vo Itni Asani Se,
Kyu Keh Gaya Vo Itni Asani Se,
Kara Gaya Mujhe Meri Badsurti,
Meri Kamiyo Ka Ehsas,
Aur Thukra Gaya Mujhe Itni Asani Se,

Kya Dil Nahi Tha Uske Paas,
Ya Un Shabdo Ki Mithaas Kahi Kho Gayi Thi,
Aakhir Kiya Kya Maine,
Jo Mere Ehsaso Ki Zamane Bhar Me Khilli Udayi Gayi Thi,
Bas Pyar Hi To Kiya Tha,
Use Apna Dil Hi To Diya Tha,
Phir Bhi Kyu Sabke Samne Ek Mazaak Ban Kar Reh Gayi Thi,

Par Galti To Thi Hi Meri,
Ki Uski Neeli Aankho Me Dubti Chali Gayi Thi,
Uski Har Hasi Me Ek Sapna Bunti Chali Gayi Thi,

Dosh Uska Nahi Mera Hain,
Sirf Main Aur Mera Yeh Badsurat Chehra Hain,
Phir Bhi Kyun Aaj Khud Ko Bikhra Sa Mehsus Karti Hu,
Shayad Is Chehre Ke Karan Kisi Ko Ab Apna Dil Dene Se Darti Hu,
Kyunki Bahut Gehra Hota Hain Is Dard Ka Ehsas,
Par Ab Karti Hu Yahi Ardas,
Ki Ae Khuda!

Is Chehre Ko Vo Noor De,
Ki Dekhne Vala Aur Kuch Soch Hi Na Paye,
Par Is Dil Ko Dildar De,
Jiske Pyar Ke Liye Yeh Umar Bhi Kam Pad Jaye,
Aur Jisne Mujhe Thukraya,
Use Khud Koi 'Na' Keh Jaye,
Aur Tab Shayad Use Apni Galti...

[...] Read more

poem by Apurva Jain
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Awareness poem in Hindi by Deepak kumar deep

Sadiyon se khamosh ye dharti
Pata dhoondh rahi hai insanon ka
Kash! Kahin koi mil jaye
Kya shahar hai ye veerano ka?

Dhadhak rahen hai dil par hoth hain band
Iltaza hai kuch kahne ki
Par! sari nakam koshish
Mai chala gaya tha mudon ke shahar me
The naam wahan gude huwe sunhare patthron par

Wo bebas the, chilla rahe the,
Ro rahe the apni lachari par
Zuban na thepaas unke, kuch kahne ko
Kyonki wo bebas the lachar the……
Jane laga jab wahan se main
Pukar rahi thi wo sari lashen mughe
Chilla chilla kar kar kah rahi thi-
Mat banna aise, jaise the mere karm
Yaad kar un baton ko, aati mughe abs harm
Banna tha jab narm mughe, huwa main narm
Andhvishwashon me ghira tha mera apna dharm….

Jao jakar bata do unko
Meri tarah hi unka hoga haal
Maine ta umernahi ki bhakti, sirf kiya dikhawa
Jo bana aaj ka sawal
Maine apna waqut gawaya, duniyawi such ko pane me
Shareer ko sajane me,
Imarte banana me,
Danga fasad karne karane me
Par zara bhi na diya dhyan
Manav jeevan sawarne me.

Murakhta aur pagalpan ki bhi had hoti hai
Maine samay ke satguru ko nahi pahchana
Sirf libas dekha, shaklon par dhokha khakar
Har yug me maine mara taana.

Main bhi kitna badnaseeb tha
Manjeel mere karib tha
Phir bhi daud raha tha paglon ki tarah
Wo waqut bhi kaisa ajeeb tha.
Khair! Min to apne kiye ki bhugat raha hoon
Par jao jakar kahna un ghamandi, ahankari, papai,
durachari, anachari, Vyabhichari, atyachari logon se

Kyon kar raha hai apne aap se gaddaari.
Kar le apne aapki pahchan
Kaun hai tu? Kya hai tera asthan?

[...] Read more

poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Ahead of the Stars

sitaaro.n se aage jahaa.N aur bhii hai.n
abhii ishq ke imtihaa.N aur bhii hai.n

taahii zindagii se nahii.n ye fazaaye.n
yahaa.N saika.Do.n kaaravaa.N aur bhii hai.n

kanaa'at na kar aalam-e-rang-o-bu par
chaman aur bhii, aashiyaa.N aur bhii hai.n

agar kho gayaa ek nasheman to kyaa Gam
maqaamaat-e-aah-o-fugaa.N aur bhii hai.n

tuu shahii.n hai parwaaz hai kaam teraa
tere saamane aasmaa.N aur bhii hai.n

isii roz-o-shab me.n ulajh kar na rah jaa
ke tere zamiin-o-makaa.N aur bhii hai.n

gae din kii tanhaa thaa mai.n a.njuman me.n
yahaa.N ab mere raazadaa.N aur bhii hai.n

poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Forsaking All Others Part 4

I

WAYNE was looking near and far
After the theatre to find his car.
He had taken his wife to the play that night;

Broadway was glittering hard and bright
With every sort of electric light­
Green and scarlet and diamond-white;
And moving letters against the sky
Told you exactly the reason why
This or that was the thing to buy.
And suddenly there at his side was Nell
Vainly seeking her car as well
They talked. for a moment... of meeting again...
And how were Edward and Ruth, and then
'I wonder,' said Nell, 'if you ever see
My lovely friend...' 'You mean,' said he,
'That blue-eyed lady I once sat next.. '
'Exactly,' said Nellie. 'I feel so vexed
With Lee. I haven't seen her this season,
And between you and me, I know the reason.'
'Do you indeed? ' said Wayne.'Oh, yes,'
Nell answered. 'I know... at least I guess.
When a woman like that whom I've seen so much
All of a sudden drops out of touch,
Is always busy and never can
Spare you a moment, it means a MAN.'

Wayne did not smile. 'I am sure you are
Right,' he said. 'Do you go so far
In the magic art as to tell us who
The man may be? ' 'I certainly do,'
Said Nell. 'It's that handsome young romantic
Doctor who's driving the ladies frantic,
So that they flock to be cured in shoals
And talk of nothing but sex and souls,
And self-expression, and physical passion..
Of course, no wonder the man's the fashion.'

'Does Mrs. Kent flock? ' 'Oh, no, I meant
They've called him in to take care of Kent.
Imagine the long deep conversations,
The tears, the intimate revelations...
I wish to all ladies, lonely and sad,
Tied to a husband hopelessly mad
A handsome psychiatrist... good or bad.
Oh, there's my car,' and so with a gay
Good night to Wayne she was driven away.

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Mala lokaku

Daya laguchhi kahibaku
Mala lokaku tumara maya.
Bahuta durare thai tumathu
Nirabare kahideuchhi
Thaa satarka bhusuduchi swarga.

Mu mate deuchhi avisapa
Bhala pauchhi kahuthiba a jiva
Kemiti karuchhi laha laha
Aau achhi a jae
A tumara mayapurire.

A mayapurire tumara
bibhakta hoichhi belebele
Aa aka sujogare tume
Pasi aasichha bhitarapataku mora.
Gadimatara jiba rastare
Hoi thiaa khojuchha uttara
Kouta a sttana aau athi
Mu soichhi kemiti.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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So my father grew up in an orphanage in Boston. He was then adopted by an elderly childless couple from Maine, who gave him the name of Mitchell. He moved to Maine, and there he met my mother and was married.

quote by George J. Mitchell
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I was born and raised in a small town in Maine, Waterville. I enjoyed living there - still do - and my goal in life was a fairly specific and focused one of practicing law in Maine.

quote by George J. Mitchell
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Jhootha Nahi(Hindi)

Sirf Tum Thi Mere Dil Main
Lekin pyar toh ban gaya ek khilona
Maine tumhara dil thora, tumne mera
Tumko lagtha hai ki pyar mera jhootha hai
Pyar saacha tha, saachi
Bahut kiya tha pyar maine tumse
Aur sirf tum hi thi mere dil main
Main jhootha nahi tha.

poem by Rohit Sapra
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Long Legged Girl

(words & music by mcfarland - scott)
All right
I've been thumbin' rides travellin' light
Walked the streets till past midnight
Trampin' roads, trails and lanes
Scaling cliffs fields and plains
Searchin' till the early dawn
For that long legged girl with the short dress on
Riding trucks, bikes and skis
Sailing lakes and brooks and seas
Driving wagons, cars and jeeps
Walking stilts in ten foot leaps
Searchin' till the early dawn
For that long legged girl with the short dress on
And everywhere i go she's been and gone
She's fine, it's just too bad she's the travellin' kind
So fine, i just can't rest till i make her mine
I've been from maine to tennessee, mexico from wahkiki
Rain or shine, sleet or snow
Searchin' high, searchin' low
Everything depends upon
That long legged girl with the short dress on
She's fine, it's just too bad she's the travellin' kind
So fine, i just can't rest till i make her mine
I've been from maine to tennessee, mexico from wahkiki
Rain or shine, sleet or snow
Searchin' high, searchin' low
Everything depends upon
That long legged girl with the short dress on
The long legged girl with the short dress on

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Southbound Train

Well she was born in a north woods town
Twenty-one winters ago
And she grew tired of the freezing cold
And living in the blinding snow
But this girl knew she wouldn't be there long
'Cause she had plans and dreams
And she'd seen pictures of the sunshine state
In the pages of the magazine
So she waited them tables and she used her smile
Saving every penny she can
For a one-way Dixie bound Amtrak ticket
Headed for the promised land
Her momma and daddy begged her not to go
When the day she dreamed of came
And she waved goodbye sittin' way up high
From the window of a southbound train
Now she's got a fire burnin' deep inside
Ridin' on a southbound train
And the clickity-clack of that railroad track
Only helps to fan the flames
No more worries, no more cares
She left them up in Bangor, Maine
Now she's startin' a brand new life
Ridin' on a southbound train
Whoa...
She said, 'Hello sun, good mornin' Daytona
You're sure lookin' good to me
With your ocean breeze and your tall palm trees
And your southern hospitality'
Now she's a knockout queenie in a string bikini
She's drivin' all the boys insane
And this all started with a small town dream
And a ticket on a southbound train
'Cause she had a fire burnin' deep inside
Ridin' on a southbound train
And the clickity-clack of that railroad track
Only helps to fan the flames
No more worries, no more cares
She left them up in Bangor, Maine
Yeah she likes the boys with the southern drawl
Soakin' up the sunshine, havin' a ball
She'll be the first to tell you that she owes it all
To ridin' on a southbound train
Whoa...oh...

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost and Her horse

Everynight in the dark she walks
Everynight in the meadow he neighs
She walks out to her horse
He raises his ghostly head, spots his owner
And neighs
Only true people can hear this frost filled noise
To her ear it sounds of peace and stillness
To people around it sounds spoky filled with wondering souls
Like the wind
Or the soft rain
Everynight in the dark she walks
Everynight in the meadow he neighs
The ghost walks with her silver hair blowing
In the pony tail that shall never change
She carries his halter in one hand her other hand
Hangs open ready to stroke his transparent maine
Down his silver back
Everynight in the dark she walks
Everynight in the meadow he neighs
The horse to his girl
They are still, his head and long neck
Rested on her shoulder, her arms around his neck
Running her fingers through his maine
The ghost and her horse.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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By The Seaside : The Building Of The Ship

'Build me straight, O worthy Master!
Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!'
The merchant's word
Delighted the Master heard;
For his heart was in his work, and the heart
Giveth grace unto every Art.
A quiet smile played round his lips,
As the eddies and dimples of the tide
Play round the bows of ships,
That steadily at anchor ride.
And with a voice that was full of glee,
He answered, 'Erelong we will launch
A vessel as goodly, and strong, and stanch,
As ever weathered a wintry sea!'

And first with nicest skill and art,
Perfect and finished in every part,
A little model the Master wrought,
Which should be to the larger plan
What the child is to the man,
Its counterpart in miniature;
That with a hand more swift and sure
The greater labor might be brought
To answer to his inward thought.
And as he labored, his mind ran o'er
The various ships that were built of yore,
And above them all, and strangest of all
Towered the Great Harry, crank and tall,
Whose picture was hanging on the wall,
With bows and stern raised high in air,
And balconies hanging here and there,
And signal lanterns and flags afloat,
And eight round towers, like those that frown
From some old castle, looking down
Upon the drawbridge and the moat.
And he said with a smile, 'Our ship, I wis,
Shall be of another form than this!'
It was of another form, indeed;
Built for freight, and yet for speed,
A beautiful and gallant craft;
Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast,
Pressing down upon sail and mast,
Might not the sharp bows overwhelm;
Broad in the beam, but sloping aft
With graceful curve and slow degrees,
That she might be docile to the helm,
And that the currents of parted seas,
Closing behind, with mighty force,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Building of the Ship

"Build me straight, O worthy Master!
Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!"
The merchant's word
Delighted the Master heard;
For his heart was in his work, and the heart
Giveth grace unto every Art.
A quiet smile played round his lips,
As the eddies and dimples of the tide
Play round the bows of ships,
That steadily at anchor ride.
And with a voice that was full of glee,
He answered, "Erelong we will launch
A vessel as goodly, and strong, and stanch,
As ever weathered a wintry sea!"
And first with nicest skill and art,
Perfect and finished in every part,
A little model the Master wrought,
Which should be to the larger plan
What the child is to the man,
Its counterpart in miniature;
That with a hand more swift and sure
The greater labor might be brought
To answer to his inward thought.
And as he labored, his mind ran o'er
The various ships that were built of yore,
And above them all, and strangest of all
Towered the Great Harry, crank and tall,
Whose picture was hanging on the wall,
With bows and stern raised high in air,
And balconies hanging here and there,
And signal lanterns and flags afloat,
And eight round towers, like those that frown
From some old castle, looking down
Upon the drawbridge and the moat.
And he said with a smile, "Our ship, I wis,
Shall be of another form than this!"
It was of another form, indeed;
Built for freight, and yet for speed,
A beautiful and gallant craft;
Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast,
Pressing down upon sail and mast,
Might not the sharp bows overwhelm;
Broad in the beam, but sloping aft
With graceful curve and slow degrees,
That she might be docile to the helm,
And that the currents of parted seas,
Closing behind, with mighty force,
Might aid and not impede her course.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ultima Thule: The Iron Pen

I thought this Pen would arise
From the casket where it lies--
Of itself would arise and write
My thanks and my surprise.

When you gave it me under the pines,
I dreamed these gems from the mines
Of Siberia, Ceylon, and Maine
Would glimmer as thoughts in the lines;

That this iron link from the chain
Of Bonnivard might retain
Some verse of the Poet who sang
Of the prisoner and his pain;

That this wood from the frigate's mast
Might write me a rhyme at last,
As it used to write on the sky
The song of the sea and the blast.

But motionless as I wait,
Like a Bishop lying in state
Lies the Pen, with its mitre of gold,
And its jewels inviolate.

Then must I speak, and say
That the light of that summer day
In the garden under the pines
Shall not fade and pass away.

I shall see you standing there,
Caressed by the fragrant air,
With the shadow on your face,
And the sunshine on your hair.

I shall hear the sweet low tone
Of a voice before unknown,
Saying, 'This is from me to you--
From me, and to you alone.'

And in words not idle and vain
I shall answer and thank you again
For the gift, and the grace of the gift,
O beautiful Helen of Maine!

And forever this gift will be
As a blessing from you to me,
As a drop of the dew of your youth
On the leaves of an aged tree.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Kings Prophecie

What Stoick could his steely brest containe
(If Zeno self, or who were made beside
Of tougher mold) from being torne in twaine
With the crosse Passions of this wondrous tide?
Grief at ELIZAES toomb, orecomne anone
With greater ioy at her succeeded throne?

Me seems the world at once doth weep & smile,
Washing his smiling cheeks with weeping dew,
Yet chearing still his watered cheeks the while
With merry wrinckles that do laughter shew;
Amongst the rest, I can but smile and weepe,
Nor can my passions in close prison keepe.

Yet now, when Griefe and Ioy at once conspire
To vexe my feeble minde with aduerse might,
Reason suggests not words to my desire,
Nor daines no Muse to helpe me to endite;
So doth this ciuil strife of Passions strong,
Both moue and marre the measures of my song.

For long agone, when as my weaker thought
Was but assaylde with change of Ioy & paine:
I wont to finde the willing Muse vnsought,
And vent my numbers in a plenteous vaine,
Whether I wisht to write some loftie verse,
Or with sad lines would straw some sable hearse.

So, when but single Passions in the field
Meet Reason sage; soone as she list aduance
Her awful head; they needs must stoop, & yeeld
Their rebell armes to her wise gouernance:
Whence, as their mutin'd rage did rashly rise
Ylike by Reasons power it cowardly dies.

But when that Passions ranke arayes beset
Reason alone, without or friend, or Fere,
Who wonders if they can the conquest get
And reaue the crown her royal head did weare?
Goe yet tumultuous lines, and tydings bring
What Passion can in Reasons silence sing.

Oft did I wish the closure of my light,
Before the dawning of that fearfull day

[...] Read more

poem by Joseph Hall
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Off The Coast Of Maine

Off the coast of Maine with the blues
Like Roy Buchanan bending notes
An old black and white film
The wind is strange
Melodic chimes of sorrow
The sea will always be my friend

Help me feel the ground my love
The price of darkness isn’t worth it

Stark organ like vivid sands
Clouds of coming rain
Beauty like a sermon
Trees blow like a painting

Pure memories flood like rivers
Where is your hand my friend?
We all loose and win
She is there like a decoupage
Soft light glows from a distant farm

Maine is a beautiful place
I just got the blues

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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