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Your are the Taj Mahal

You are a Taj Mahal,
At least to me.
Had I seen you
When I was a child,
When I was a lad,
When I was an adult
Or in middle age.
I would not have,
I could not have,
Observed you, valued you
The way now I do
When I am over aged.
I can see in you
What youngsters fail to.
I can make you
What youngsters know not to.

A literary work merits
By its ablest critics.
You are in bloom

[...] Read more

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Affluent

Affluence has assertions on the picture we see
In front of our eyes, it is wealthy provision.
Our apostles enrich the basic soul, like wealth
The providing is outstanding, much too enlarged
Now that we are altered and beautified by brilliance.
Affluence is a collision with times and lives,
Our exiles confront themselves with the minor crime,
Your lives depend on the movement of crime,
Hounds of wealthy origin shall bark at your legs
And freeze the mind of all its calibre.
It is time your weapon is calming us,
Open the doors to the times of big change
And extravagance and fascination.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Looking Others For Alms For Living

Instead of being a self-disciplined person,

If a person, with a mean mentality
and low calibre in his earlier birth,
-with his power, muscle, money and men -
had embraced the shoulders of some others' wives
with ornamental marks painted large rounded breasts,

he is born in this birth neither man nor woman wholly,
losing the power and might, unable to unite with woman
looking others for alms for living and ridiculed by everybody!

(naalatiyaar poem No: 85)
This original tamil poem
was written during 7 th century:
I tried to translate this in such a way
that there should not be vulgarity in anyway!

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Romantic Poets Forever!

Spirit of poets immortal intoxicates me complete
With poetic mood transporting to exotic world
Full of magic, vision and fantasy never ending
Making poet and reader forget in the vast Universe!

Poets of the calibre of Coleridge, Shelley and Keats
Engross one in pure poetry inspiring high forever
Whenever the mood is out of control even for a while
By their intoxicating romantic expressions ever!

Romantic poets of the first order still rule the realm
As what they have created for the world to enjoy
Make poetry an endless source of inspiration
Changing all ever bright with sparks of ideas novel!

Whenever I am out of mood I seek their blessings
To recharge and recover the lost mood to write ever!

poem by Ramesh T A
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To Those Who Love Footy

To those who love footy a man of renown
The legend of sport from the little bush town
Footballers of his calibre hard to be found
On Grand Final day he was best on ground
But Tim the young artist one who doesn't like football
Says legends of sport don't interest him at all
To him the renowned locally raised footy player seems quite ordinary
Though many with him on that would disagree
He says sports fans elite sports people over-rate
That they are not worthy of the title of great
The greats of human history that historians recall
Were not sports people or never played football
And he says of the locally raised football legend I'm not putting him down
When I say he's an ordinary bloke from an ordinary town.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Impressiveness Captures All!

Impressiveness captures the hearts of many!
Impressive advertisement captures customers.
Impressive poetry keeps all in spell bound state
Though rhyme and theme are clear to none ever!

First duty of poetry is amusement before knowledge;
Impressiveness does that job pretty well by experts!
Poets of romantic calibre surprise by magic, vision
And fantasy by transporting all to a world they create.

That is why the subjective, philosophical, individual
Style of poetry makes a mark in the realm of literature
By impressive expression of ideas amusing all at once!

So, there are romantic dreamers, visionaries, magicians
Who have permanent places in the heats of many
By their impressive art of expression forever and ever!

poem by Ramesh T A
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Successful

Success forces us mildly to accept and swear obedience,
Towards whom is not known, but it is permissible to know.
There is a test for the great and intriguing,
Resolutions must end the matter.

Successful attributes kept the kings with their kingdoms,
Showing character and relentless strength.
To prosper is too wise a triumph, a reality is upon us,
We do mind the dangers but refrain from them now.

The marching of troops built water in the river,
Had an army in the first place,
And let the river run into the ocean,
Commanded by the generals and few others.

What is successful shows in the jobs we exceed
In calibre, and acumen, and wealth of knowledge.
The force of a thousand rivers was called a test
But then this test must be passed for the good of all men.

poem by Naveed Akram
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You Might Be Wrong

Uncouth ill educated lout.
You make your mind up instantly,
you are quite sure you have no doubt.
He is what he appears to be

You later find to you surprise
he is in fact a gentleman.
Regarded by the world as wise.
Not as you thought an also ran.

Because he does not look the part.
You thought him worthy of disdain.
But now you have a change of heart
you have been forced to think again.

Clothes do not make a gentleman.
Quite often they disguise a thief
who’s out to steal all that he can
He’s confident of your belief

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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US Presidential Race

Hear ye all in the North, the South,
The East and the West, hear ye, hear!

Hear the great event in the annals
of USA, the Giant Power in century!
After the dark Halloween and
the real horror of the Great Hurricane,
the American people will cast their ballots
for a president of their best choice.

Barack Obama and Mitt Romney
dominate attention on the stage and on
the screens; small children get tired
of their mumblings and hope that
their noise will soon end.

Rallies are held in many states
to harvest more electoral votes
Both candidates boast of their
great power and calibre

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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Hunter

The Hunter

The vale, a mini grand canyon, most of
the time, cloaked in the opaque fog of
obscurity, was clear today. The floor of
the dale is flat and scattered with large
boulders, crippled bushes, weedy, slimy
plants and an imponderable, stillness that
follows sins of wilful nonappearance.

Was here, with my dog Stella, to look
for and hunt rabbits, by a boulder I saw
a rabbit bigger then a red fox, I shot it
in the head with my 22 calibre rifle;
still convulsing when I came up to it,
kicked it to death with the rifle butt and
saw it was not a gregarious mammal.

Hundreds of them, hairy monster rats
looking at me from every boulder and

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poem by Oskar Hansen
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