123.Kumaragurupara Swamigal’s Sakalakalavalli Maalai-Stanza 5
Stanza 5
Tamil Transliteration:
Panchap pidhantharu seiyaporr paapang kaerugamenn
Nennjath thadaththala raadhadhennae nedunth that kamalth
Thanjath thuvasa muyarththoansenn naavu magamumvellaikk
Kanjath thavisoth thirundhdhaai sakala kalaavalliyae!
Translation Poem
Occupying Brahman’s red tongue,
Who is holding high, the flag of
Swan white, with long legs red complexion
beating the red colour of lotus into oblivion
and also occupying His great heart
and seated on the white lotus flower
in a beautiful sitting posture
Hey Mother! White swan!
Master of all arts and science!
Wont you make Your soft golden red lotus feet
decorated with the red mehandi
blossom in my heart?
Message:
Focused attention on Art and education and technical acumen are signs of progress
Red Message:
In the ordinary world Red is a danger mark; in mythology red is considered a symbol of victory and ladies wearing red are respected and loved
According to Henry Dreyfus,
1) it is popularly felt that red, the color of blood and fire, represents life and vitality. Red also signifies the color of the sun: a symbol of energy, radiating its vitalizing life force into human beings. Red is also looked upon as a sensual color, and can be associated with man's most profound urges and impulses.
2) red and white together immediately signifies happiness and celebration. The combination of red and white in the decorative ornaments used on wedding or engagement presents has a compelling quality that suggests man's urge to create a bond between his own life and that of the gods. Red and white are also the colors of the uniforms that shrine maidens’ wear (denoting these colors divine nature.)
Here in our stanza we have white swan with red legs, his flag is white, the seat of my Mother Saraswathi is white, her feet are red
A swan is a bird that is a symbol of gracefulness and calmness. Swans are graceful as they float atop the water in ponds, and they are calm creatures. Swans also symbolize sensitivity, love, and beauty. Because it has domain over water as well as air, the swan is considered to be the Bird of Light and is associated with the dawning of the Sun
birds often symbolize the divine. They are often viewed as gods in disguise, or else they are the vehicles of gods and goddesses.
While the peacock is a symbol of material manifestation, the swan stands for the ethereal. It represents the presence of divine inspiration in our world.
Note: in the previous stanza my mother Saraswathi is compared to Peacock and here Swan
This combination signifies the love of the poet for my divine Mother
27 8 09
poem by Rajagopal Haran
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Related quotes
Sensitive Selfless Scribe's Shorthand Script Successfully Shows Superb Syllabic Stanza Susurration
Kindly refer to Notes
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SENSITIVE SELFLESS SCRIBE'S SHORTHAND SCRIPT SUCCESSFULLY SHOWS SUPERB SYLLABIC STANZA SUSURRATION
Stanza stanza swift succeeding
seldom static, subtly speeding
serried series, saccharinic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.
Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
salvos sparkle, sagenitic,
succulent succession seeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.
Stanza stanza swift succeeding
serenade sauteed spoonfeeding
special scansion ‘S’ syllabic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.
Sentences scarce schizophrenic
solo solves sound stream, strabismic
seeker sees successful screeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.
Stanza stanza swift succeeding.
syntax sense spurns stale subbreeding
shedding sorrow syphilitic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.
Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
salvoes sparkle sagenitic,
selfless scribe’s script seldom skeeding,
stanza stanza swift succeeding.
Stanza stanza swift succeeding
scatter satire chickenfeeding
subharmonic synchronistic
sentences scarce schizophrenic.
Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
sagely swirl substantives scenic
steadfastly serene crossbreeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.
Stanza stanza swift succeeding,
sinless scintillating reading,
sotto voce suave systemic
sentences scarce schizophrenic.
Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
supercalifragilistic,
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Queen of Jhansi
1st Stanza
The throne was shaken and tensions rose among the Raajvanshs, the royal heirs,
In aged India, new ideas were taking hold,
The people of all India lamented their lost freedom,
And decided to cast off British rule,
Old swords glittered anew as the freedom movement of 1857 started.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
2nd Stanza
She was as dear to the Nana (Nana Ghunghupant) of Kanpur as his real sister,
Laxmibai was her name, her parents only daughter
She'd been with Nana since her schoolgirl days
The spear, knife, sword, and axe were her constant companions.
She knew by heart the tales of valor of Shivaji
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
3rd Stanza
None were sure, was she Laxmi or Durga devi or Devi durga reincarnate?
The people of Marathward were awed by her (expertise) skill with the sword,
They learned from her how to fight, the strategy of war,
To attack and humiliate the enemy were her favorite sports.
Her love for Maharashatra-kul-Devi was equaled only by her love for Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
8) So was the Queen of Jhansi.
4th Stanza
Laxmibai was married in Jhansi, with great jubilation
Entering the joyous city as Queen,
Grand celebrations were held in the palace in Jhansi, in honor of her coming.
Just as when Chitra met Arjun or Shiv had found his beloved Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
5th Stanza
Her presence was a blessing at the palace of Jhansi and candles of celebration burned long
But as days passed the dark clouds of misfortune overshadowed the royal palace.
She put aside her bangles and prepared for battle
For fate was unkind and made her a widow
[...] Read more
poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Parrot And The Woodpecker May Return
Kasiananthan's Poem on the Tamil Diaspora and Eelam
[Sung by TEnicayccal Cellappa] Translated by T.Wignesan
mAnkiliyum marankottiyum The parrot and the woodpecker
kUtutirumpa tatayillai their nests to regain nothing waylays
nAnkal mattum ulakattilEyE Only we in all this world
nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai our homeland to seek may not turn
nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai our homeland to seek may not turn
[Above refrain repeated twice]
cinkalavan pataivAnil From skies filled with Sinhalese planes
neruppai alli corikiratu fire tumbles down in seething showers
enkal uyir tamil Elam Our lifeblood our Tamil Eelam
cutukAtAy erikiratu a simmering graveyard on fire
tAykatarap pillaikalin While mothers rave in pain children's
nencukalaik kilikkinrAn breasts the oppressor tears apart
kAyyAkum munnE ilam Long before they might ripen tender
pincukalai alikkirAn the buds crushed from burgeoning
[Refrain]
pettavankal UrilE Those who begot us back home
Enku rAnku pAcattilE tossing turning in their longing for us
ettanai nAl kArttiruppOm For how many days might we linger on
atuttavan tEcattilE in the other man's refugee land
unnavum mutiyavillai Without proper food
urankavum mutiyavillai without sufficient sleep
ennavum mutiyavillai Unable rightly even to think
innumtAn vitiyutillai when will the day dawn for us
[Refrain]
kitti pullu atittu nankal We who played at kitti pullu*
vilaiyAtum teruvilEyE joyously in the heedless streets
katti vayttuc cutukirAnAm There now tethered others lie felled
yAr manatum urukavillai no no hearts pain for us
Ur katitam patikkayilEyE When our eyes light on letters from home
vimmi nencu vetikkitu sobs prise open our brimming breasts
pOrpulikal pakkattilEyE By the flanks of battling Tigers
pOkamanam tutikkitu there to be our hearts throb and yearn
[Refrain]
Note: * A competitive game played by hitting a small stick with a bigger one, the goal being to cover the greatest distance. Also called in Tamil Nadu and Malaysia: kavuntA kavunti.
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
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Catholic Contradictions
This Poem will speak to Peter,
Of the priest and the folly,
This poem doubts not the sincerity of true worshipers,
It will speak to the cult, the club, their Peter, the images of idolatry
This poem will address the indoctrination, the assumptions and contradictions,
This poem will expose and explode,
This poem will speak of the council of Valencia and the “forbidden book”
This poem will speak of the mass “hoc est enim corpus meum'
And the continuous re-enactment of the Death of Jesus
This poem will smite the conscience, rend the hearts, and heal the willing
This poem will speak of purgatory
Of priesthood
Of indulgences
Of penance
Of confessions and the “confessors”
Of papal decrees
And of the mortal and venial sins,
This Poem, this poem will speak of the “Virgin Mary” and the harlot,
This poem will confirm the marriage of Christ’s Peter
Of the Roman Universal contradictions and papal infallibility
This poem will speak of the assurance of salvation
And the curse of the Council of Trent
This poem will speak of the “Arian heresy”
Of “Cyprian and the lapsed”
Of the works of “Athanasius Contra Mundum”
Of Athanasius to the Bishop of Egypt
This poem will speak of the incarnation of the divine word
Orations against the Arians and against Apollinaris
This poem will speak of John Chrysostom, (golden mouth)
This poem will speak of his ethical applications and the trouble with the emperor’s wife
This poem will speak of Augustine and his forgotten works,
“In the spirit and the letter”, “Confession”, the “city of God “
The battle against the “Donatist” “Manichean” The “Arians” the “Pelagians”
This poem will speak of the Theology of “Anselm”
Of “Thomas Aquinas” and the Sum of Theology
This poem will talk of the “council of Nicea”
This poem will speak of Constantine and his cross of battle
The grandeur of “St Peter’s Basilica” the glory of man void of God’s presence
This poem will speak of the “Patriarchal City” and the protagonist
This poem will be persecuted, burnt, torn and ridiculed
This poem will never be read by Catholics,
It will not be verified to see the deception of Rome and the Pope,
This poem can read your mind, how you think Pope can never do wrong
This poem sees your bent determination to resist Truth
This poem will talk of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin
This poem will be rejected by America, Britain, France, Russian, and Africa
This poem must be hated, by worshiper of Dead Mary and his statue
This poem will be scorned and attacked
This poem will bring shame to the writer; he will be sick or insane in the mind of the readers
This poem will not be read in Jerusalem, Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch,
[...] Read more
poem by Macaulay Akinbami
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Sola Christos, Sola Scriptura, Sola Gracious, Sola Fide' and the Priesthood
This Poem will speak to Peter,
Of the priest and the folly,
This poem doubts not the sincerity of true worshipers,
It will speak to the cult, the club, their Peter, the images of idolatry
This poem will address the indoctrination, the assumptions and contradictions,
This poem will expose and explode,
This poem will speak of the council of Valencia and the “forbidden book”
This poem will speak of the mass “hoc est enim corpus meum'
And the continuous re-enactment of the Death of Jesus
This poem will smite the conscience, rend the hearts, and heal the willing
This poem will speak of purgatory
Of priesthood
Of indulgences
Of penance
Of confessions and the “confessors”
Of papal decrees
And of the mortal and venial sins,
This Poem, this poem will speak of the “Virgin Mary” and the harlot,
This poem will confirm the marriage of Christ’s Peter
Of the Roman Universal contradictions and papal infallibility
This poem will speak of the assurance of salvation
And the curse of the Council of Trent
This poem will speak of the “Arian heresy”
Of “Cyprian and the lapsed”
Of the works of “Athanasius Contra Mundum”
Of Athanasius to the Bishop of Egypt
This poem will speak of the incarnation of the divine word
Orations against the Arians and against Apollinaris
This poem will speak of John Chrysostom, (golden mouth)
This poem will speak of his ethical applications and the trouble with the emperor’s wife
This poem will speak of Augustine and his forgotten works,
“In the spirit and the letter”, “Confession”, the “city of God “
The battle against the “Donatist” “Manichean” The “Arians” the “Pelagians”
This poem will speak of the Theology of “Anselm”
Of “Thomas Aquinas” and the Sum of Theology
This poem will talk of the “council of Nicea”
This poem will speak of Constantine and his cross of battle
The grandeur of “St Peter’s Basilica” the glory of man void of God’s presence
This poem will speak of the “Patriarchal City” and the protagonist
This poem will be persecuted, burnt, torn and ridiculed
This poem will never be read by Catholics,
It will not be verified to see the deception of Rome and the Pope,
This poem can read your mind, how you think Pope can never do wrong
This poem sees your bent determination to resist Truth
This poem will talk of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin
This poem will be rejected by America, Britain, France, Russian, and Africa
This poem must be hated, by worshiper of Dead Mary and his statue
This poem will be scorned and attacked
This poem will bring shame to the writer; he will be sick or insane in the mind of the readers
This poem will not be read in Jerusalem, Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch,
[...] Read more
poem by Macaulay Akinbami
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This Is Not A Confessionam Poem
This is not a confessional poem
I confess that I have written this
Not a romantic poem
Under the watch of the archangel of Blake’s vision
A l=a=n=g=u=a=g=e= p=o=e=m=
A loaf Of poem a gallon Of words a pint Of letters
A so-so go for broke poem
So so son and so said
An acrostic poem
None near Aim to be called
Mindfully toward the Eternity of the thing
An epitaph poem
He lays David E. Patton
Never one to believe in heaven
So when he dies he did spy
A free verse poem
A sonnet poem
A know it all poem for the masses
This is not a minute poem
A didactic poem
A tongue poem
A villanelle poem
A sestina poem
An epic poem
A quinzaine poem
A rondelet poem
This is not a rondel poem
A cascade poem
A trijan refrain poem
A tanka poem
A taridet poem
A quatrain poem
If I lie this is not a list poem
To pin upon the sky
Set before the poet’s eye
I confess that I have written this
But this is not written to deceived anything but what is desired by the greediness of the eyes
This is not the growth of breath focused on the words with their mindful meaning stalled by the stack of sounds held in the syllables
This is not a sijo poem from the land of the morning calm
I confess that I know not what this is but all that it is not of what it would be forgot in the mispronounced want of the bony wants of the skin bag of my self
This is not the not of a poem trying to be born from the keyboard’s click and the memory of my hands
This is not an every man poem to understand it dose not caters to the common man
This is not a poem about Gods caught up in my mentioning of them they have taken their holy toys and gone home till the kingdom will come only the prelists priests are left to protest their secret order for getting into a heaven where nothing changes nothing like the rot of earth that feed upon the rotting of the living
This is not a this is not poem all that I have said can be washed away with the rain of your brain this poem can not save can not heal can not trill you into action
This is not a solitary crowed poem a cut-up poem feeding off itself
I have written it but it will not tell me what kind of poem it seem to be
This is not a poem to make you rough or pure or proud or increate your intellect to beguile the world with its new found wisdom
This is not a poem to set you free from the common drudgery of your day to day life it can not fend or feed you with the not of its substance can not set you to dance naked beneath the full moon can not fill you up with the pleasure of the pen
This is not a poem that seeks to befriend it has no mouth to consume you no hands to caress you no tongue to lick the words from your tears
[...] Read more
poem by David E. Patton
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You ask me to leave (Pantoum poetry)
The “pantun” is a Malaysian poetic form that was introduced to the West by French novelist, essayist, and poet, Victor Hugo (1802-1885) , hence the French spelling, “pantoum.” Westerners have taken creative liberties with the Malaysian form, which tends to follow a standard rhyme form of ABAB, where multiple, rather than single subjects, are introduced. While pantoums can have unlimited stanzas, you might want to begin with a 3-stanza poem until you get the hang of it:
Stanza 1: Line 1/Line 2/Line 3/Line 4
Stanza 2: Line 5 (repeat of line 2 in stanza 1) /Line 6 (new line) /Line 7 (repeat of line 4 in stanza 1) /
Line 8 (new line)
Stanza 3/Last Stanza (This is the format for the last stanza regardless of how many preceding stanzas exist) : Line 9 (line 2 of the previous stanza) /Line 10 (line 3 of the first stanza) /Line 11 (line 4 of the previous stanza) /Line 12 (line 1 of the first stanza)
And you ask me to leave all behind
Now when our moment in time is done
Going nowhere with nothing in mind
'Cause you're my world and my special one
Now when our moment in time is done
I love you like there's no end in sight
'Cause you're my world and my special one
You're still on my mind all day and night.
I love you like there's no end in sight
You're inside me filling my soul's space
You're still on my mind all day and night.
I feel still cuddled in your embrace
You're inside me filling my soul's space
Going nowhere with nothing in mind
I feel still cuddled in your embrace
And you ask me to leave it all behind
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Tamil New Year Day,2009
Today is ‘Tamil New Year Day’ –
A day of joy and happiness,
That fills the hearts of Tamilians,
Wherever they may be, they say!
Let Tamil foster friendship, love;
Let Tamil ignite hearts and minds;
Let Tamil bring new hope to all;
Let Tamil thrive and fill the world!
Let Tamil serve not to divide;
Let Tamil bond only unite;
Let Tamil grow in leaps and bounds;
Let Tamil live to make all live!
Let wars all cease and peace prevail;
Let love of brethren become prime;
Let Tamils live with dignity;
Let Tamil rule the world some day!
Fondly dedicated to Tamilians all over the world!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-14-2009
poem by John Celes
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Z. Comments
CRYSTAL GLOW
Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!
Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.
Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.
FRAGRANT JASMINE
Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!
Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.
I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU
Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell
Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.
I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU
Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.
Margaret Alice Comment:
'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'
Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!
IN CELESTIAL WINGS
Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.
Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!
Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.
'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'
Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.
RAGING FIRE
[...] Read more
poem by Praveen Kumar
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A Take on Red
Red for blood –
Pumping out a life;
Paling in a death;
Blushing in a feminine face –
Flushing out her puberty;
Stain a presage for the mother ready.
And red, a flag of hatred in the eye –
The brutal other side –
Blood-release of war;
The sundered heart!
But then the red of simple dress
To give a beauty all she needs –
And flaming hair
And flimsy lace of underwear
And passion in the wanton heart
And dreams of crimson stockinged legs apart –
The rawness in the fantasy that
Only red can be.
And I? To only seek for Autumn
Bleeding in her many hues
Of red and other sister colours –
Those of tiring summer;
The fall of evening chill,
To wake with mist of morn,
Until cerise of dawn
Presents another day.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A tribute to M. Karunanithi
You stood for Tamil and for Tamils.
You did well for them a long while.
In you runs Tamil blood, not an Aryan’s.
You are who made Tamil to its throne.
You are who weeded Tamil clean.
Paradoxically you are out thrown.
Who can beat you in oratory skill?
You are a caste-less, religion-less jewel.
The one who weeded Tamil was weeded of Tamils.
The presence of mind is out of presence.
Once you were thrown for an intruder.
Now you are thrown for an invader.
You were not thrown for misdeeds.
You were thrown by caste and creed.
You were not shut for ineptitude.
Then why had you been an outright reject?
Sheep do not want a sheep as their master.
Slaves do not want a brethren as their master.
Sheep mind not the master slaughtering.
Slaves worry not the master plundering.
Both want a merciless hand to rule over,
In whom the slavery is bravery.
Tamils hail Tamil but not Tamils.
How can you expect their granary?
Emotion rides where the rational slides.
If a bone is given, the tail is shown.
It is sad that you were born a Tamil.
Tragic events with a happy end-
Happy events with a tragic end:
I weep you are slated as vagabond
Though you entail a peaceful end.
I suggest you denounce politics.
27.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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127.Kumaragurupara Swamigal’s Sakalakalavalli Maalai-Stanza 1
Tamil Transliteration
Venthamaraik kandri ninpadhandh thaangaven vellaiyullath
Thandaa maraikkuth thagadhukoloa? Saka mezhumalith
Thunda nurangha ozhiththaan piththagavunn daakkum vannam
Kandaan suvaikoll karumbae sakala kalavalliyae!
Translation poem
The preserver empowered to protect the seven worlds
Who tasted the seven worlds-
Meditating absorbed in deep contemplation
Siva the destroyer entrusted with destruction
Becoming a handicap mentally
Only Brahma the creator of all
Discharging the duty enjoined!
Hey sugarcane! Hey Mother of arts science and education!
Is it that the white lotus alone eligible
to hold those graceful feet?
Isn’t my breezy aspiring heart pleasant ever
-not eligible to have that honour?
Message:
We should have the impression of Mother Saraswathi, Goddess of Education in our heart; if this is done then we will perform noble missions tirelessly.
Explanation:
In Hindu mythology Almighty is personified as males and females;
It is universal fact that a male is useless without a female behind- mother, sister, wife, friend – any form
In this stanza Siva and Vishnu are reported as non-performers whereas Brahma only is shown as doing His designated work perfectly
The hidden meaning of the above is as follows:
Siva’s consort is my Mother Parvathi, representing valor.
Vishnu’s wife is my Mother Lakshmi, representing Wealth.
Brahma’ wife is my Mother Saraswathi, representing education.
Kumaraguruparar says that those who have valor and wealth do not perform well whereas who are good in education are always the winners.
Vishnu: in His incarnation as Krishna ate earth(sand) and when His foster mother asked Him to open His mouth He opened His mouth showing the seven worlds.
Siva: Sundarar called Siva as “ piththan” (mad man) when Siva claimed that Sundarar was His slave.
23 8 09
poem by Rajagopal Haran
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This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Na Tian Piet's Sha'er Of The Late Sultan Abu Bakar Of Johor
In the name of God, let his word begin:
Praise be to God, let praises clear ring;
May our Lord, Jesus Christ's[8] blessings
Guide my pen through these poetizings!
This sha'er is an entirely new composition
Composed by myself, no fear of imitation.
It's Allah's name, I will keep calling out
While creating this poem to avoid confusion.
This story I'm relating at the present moment
I copy not, nor is it by other hands wrought;
Nothing whatsoever is here laid out
That hereunder is not clearly put forth.
Not that I am able to create with much ease,
To all that's to come I'm yet not accustomed;
Why, this sha'er at this time is being composed
Only to console my heart which is heavily laden.
I'm a peranakan[9], of Chinese origin,
Hardly perfect in character and mind;
I find much that I can not comprehend,
I'm not a man given to much wisdom.
Na Tian Piet[10] is what I go by name
I have in the past composed stories and poems;
Even when explained to - most stupid I remain
The more I keep talking the less I understand.
I was born in times gone by
In the country known as Bencoolen[11];
Indeed, I am more than stupid:
Ashamed am I composing this lay.
Twenty-four years have gone by
Since I moved to the island of Singapore;
My wife and children accompanied me
To Singapore, a most lovely country.
I stayed in Riau[12] for some time
Together with my wife and children;
Two full years in Riau territory,
Back to Singapore my legs carried me.
At the time when Acheh[13] was waging war
I went there with goods to trade,
I managed to sell them at exhorbitant prices:
Great indeed were the profits I made.
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
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Check if you are a Tamil
To be a Tamil, to be born to Tamils
And to speak Tamil as mother tongue
Aren’t alone a sufficient proof.
You must speak vowels tearing apart and
With nouns in English and verbs in Tamil.
You must have a hero higher than God
And read, if at all, the news of movies.
You will do public nuisances at length
And must be insensitive to them.
You shall respect Tamil and ignore Tamils.
You celebrate festivals by watching
In TV Tamil debates and stars’ talks.
You seek south Indian restaurants abroad.
Then you can boast you are a true Tamil.
19.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Krishna's Advice to Arjuna
14: If the soul meets death when Sattva prevails,
then it goes to the pure regions of those who are seeking truth.
15: If a man meets death in a state of Rajas,
he is reborn amongst those who are bound by their restless activity;
and if he dies in Tamas, he is reborn in the wombs of the irrational.
The Bhagavad Gita, XIV, transl. Juan Mascaro.
« It is incorrect to assume that Hindu thought strained excessively after the unattainable and was guilty of indifference to the problems of the world. We cannot lose ourselves in inner piety when the poor die at our doors, naked and hungry. The Gita asks us to live in the world and save it. »
S. Radhakrishnan, The Bhagavadgita.
When Thodti was born at Nelveli in the latter half of the XXth century
his ancestors had been living out-of-right
for the past XXX centuries
hovering
on never-never land under villages with-out-back twenty-hutments
now overgrown to two one-thousand hovels in towncentre marshalling
yards
no sewers gurglecourse under their feet
nor piped potable water flush their long-curdled alimentary canals
nor showers chase the clinging cloaca stench
nor even un-broken drains
tarred roads
garbage removal vans
find mouth on election platforms
the towncentre = the bus-terminal churning flipping putrid mud after
three-day drubbing storms
and bulging humanfleshed trains
run on forgotten time
the lav's stinging week-long turds splashvomits the feast of flies
temples carved with mantric-mouthed hands from the VIIteenth &
VIIIteenth
gopurams in congested tiered runaway curlicue rococo-baroque
fantasy
rose chalk kunkumam ripe mango yellow pitch black indigo
bulging fuming thick mascara eyes Zapata moustaches dangling over
burgeoning bellies
lithe white cows gracing Ganesha's flanks
garlands of roses hibiscus jasmine
identical buxomy lasses ballooning commodious backs ample thighs
their sarees
a deliberately clasped transparent veneer of pudeur
the jingling nautch girl anklets
vain reminders of Kannagi
bangles bracelets armlets tiaras talis earrings noserings fingerings
toerings kolusus
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
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Tell Well, shall Shell Spell Hell's Bells Pell Mell
Tell Well, shall Shell Spell Hell's Bells Pell Mell?
If known, unknown, enjoy a perfect fusion
illusion in itself may contribute
to overwrite illusions of confusion
between ideas that sundry sects confute.
No medecine can cure life's revolution
as death, - if death exists - strife turns to dust,
iron to rust, while lust proves no solution;
may bust prove boon if boom soon ends in bust?
Though knower, knowledge merge where light’s way's greeted,
dark sable seeds need for their journey out,
thus urge to surge, to merge, style self completed,
seems in itself crime's partnership with doubt.
Duality denies mind void discounting
all emptiness as horse mid-[t]race dismounting...
6 April 2009
robi03_1879_mant01_0001 PSX_EXX
Reply to Marion Mantel
http: //allpoetry.com/poem/5025243
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIII
Aham Brahmasmi – I Am Brahman
“Investigate the source and mind itself will disappear.” - Ramana Maharshi -
The Vedas’ wisdom penetrates confusion -
like medicine that penetrates the cells –
eradicating illness of illusion,
and liberating mind from countless hells.
Like this, one-pointedness of mind’s established,
and knower, knowledge, known now merge as One.
When Brahman as our own true Self is cherished,
the medicine has worked, its job is done.
But may I nonetheless inform the readers
that holding on to scripture’s not the goal?
In Brahman, there are neither worlds nor Vedas,
nor gods, nor sacrifices and no soul.
From dual parade, senses are withdrawn.
Through empty no-mind, Brahman shall be known
Marion MANTEL AP maa 5 April 2009
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
poem by Jonathan Robin
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0102 This is a disposable poem
This is a disposable poem.
Under each stanza
is a perforated line
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you may read it stanza by stanza
and throw away each as you read
or having it read it through,
shorten it stanza by stanza
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
since many poems on this site
benefit from curtailing
because amateur poets
tend to be uncertain
about their work
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
and as a result either repeat
the essence of their poem at the end
or comment on it which takes
the power out of it
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you might want to save that
previous stanza but as for
the other stanzas, here’s
a suggestion
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
enjoy being a critic and
dispose of them with a flourish
in one of these ways
certainly not both for reasons
which will become apparent
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
one method is to place
a waste-paper basket so called
at an optimum distance
far enough away to enjoy throwing
the ball of scrunch-up
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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