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Best Indian Poems

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Details | Indian Poem | |

A Note to the Indian Princess

The aunites gossip back home
About how you've grown
Out of your white cotton frocks
And into red silk saris

They talk about how you're ripe for marriage
About how quickly boys flock to you--
Your family's rich and you are beautiful.
Like a princess but with none of the excess.

Their perfect Indian girl is rather simple.
But, the real you they can never comprehend.
Those brown khol-rimmed eyes with
That understated nose ring confuses them.
They'd rather ignore your luscious red mouth.

Those soft lips were like velvet as they brushed across my lashes as you pretended to blow sand out of my eyes one drunken night on a Konkan beach.

Both too scared to be the first to say anything
We just sat there drunk and giggling

When the aunties speak of you
I can't help but imagine
Things that leave
Little to the imagination.

I am a woman
And you are a woman

We're on the same page.

The boys will wait.

Details | Indian Poem | |

The Indian in the Sky

Looking at the peaceful setting,
  I look up and quickly realize.
That an image is taking shape,
  Forming in a rather large size.

It is the shape of a grass dancer,
  Grass dancing on the clouds.
Dancing to the beat of the thunder,
  I hear his dance steps aloud.

As the lightening strikes,
  The thunder rumbles, and sounds.
His feet tap four times then he strides,
  Spinning and pacing around.

Full of strength, his dance is endless,
  Yet disappears in the blink of an eye.
I was treated to a dance of cloud stepping,
  By the Indian in the sky.

Details | Indian Poem | |

An Indian Boy

That Indian boy, unwashed, in rags, and black,
(India is, as in Art we say Nobel Laureate; in Might they call it ‘Nuclear State’)
Walked by the Dal-lake’s breezy bank,
Playing an unknown song on flute;
Carrying balloons on a bamboo stick,
Flying high in air,
And around his shoulders a worn dirty bag—
Contained flutes.
The naughty school boys irritated him, 
Punched the balloons
And searched in the bag.

Details | Indian Poem | |

The Indian Rangoli or Colorful Poetry on floor

Inspired by Deborah Guzzi’s Blog ONAM / INDIA

The Indian Rangoli or
Colorful Poetry on floor

This is the story of the poetry of 
Ancient Indian Women,
Who were less blessed to get,  
The knowledge from the learned Gurus.

They were living before marriage
With their parents, 
And helping their mothers,
In household affairs,

Or looking after their husbands,
And his great families, 
After their marriages, 
In their early tender age.*

Finding no ways to express, 
The feelings of their hearts,
One of them took a chalk in her hand
And made a sketch on the floor like an art,

There was no canvas and no brush,
To fill her great artistic skills with colors,
Emotions were flowing in her mind,
Like a rainbow with alluring colors,

The talented one among them,
Collected flower petals of different colors,
And took many flowers to fill and decorate,
The sketches of Rose, Lotus and others, they had made on the floor.

Gradually she started putting,
Color petals in those lovely designed sketches,
And filled all empty sketch figures she had made there,
She was astonished to see that it came out like real Lotus flower.

The painting of petals on the floor was,
So alluring and enchanting that even its,
Beauty and fame, one day reached the heavens,
And Goddess Lakshmi* was too pleased to hear

That some one has made figures of Lotus,
More beautiful and colorful than her favorite,
Seat of sitting on Lotus, 
And she immediately decided to visit that house,

Where the young girl had made such alluring beauty of colors
Like poetry flowing on the floor, every where before Dewali*
When she visited that neat and clean house,
Decorated with enchanting beauty of Rangoli

She was so happy that she blessed that girl with 
Immense wealth and happiness.
Which always comes with the coming of
Lakshmi or the sign of wealth, every where in the world.

She also said, that day,   while visiting the place of that girl
“Who so ever makes and keeps her house neat and clean
Any where in the world and decorate it with Rangoli
Will get my blessings of happiness and wealth”


Kanpur India   18th Sept. 2010

The above is the brief story of the origin of Rangoli, which
must have started more than 2000 to 5000 year back. 
Now Indian woman is active in all the fields of education 
&  social uplifting. 
*Although the early age marriages has now been made 
illegal but in some parts this bad tradition still exists. 
* Dewali or Deepawali is the festival of lights, joys & 
happiness, which falls every year around 5thNov. 

Details | Indian Poem | |

The First Night, Indian Style

I met a "God Sent" Indian Giver once
A theater costume manager named Hans
Acting on stage
I felt just rage
He chased me shouting: "Give me baak my pants!"

for Poet Destroyer's Contest "Indian Giver"

Details | Indian Poem | |

My Indian Princess

Written for my granddaughter, Tahlia Rose, who is half Indian and very beautiful

My Indian Princess.

You should see this girl of mine
My Indian Princess
She has pink flowers in her hair
And I’m filled with tenderness
When she hits me with her attitude
Oh lord that child is sweet
There’s one thing left to say on her
She makes my life complete

Her little mind be all her own
Her temper runs real hot
But when I see my Tahlia
It cheers me up a lot
Sometimes the words just fail me
When she’s there all soft and sweet
The only thing that I can say
She makes my world complete

Oh when she cuddles up to me
When she’s tired and all of that
When she curled up on my chest
Oh man that’s where it’s at
Yes when my princess snuggles up
She feels so soft and sweet
She’s the sweetest gift from God above
And she makes me feel complete.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Irate Indian!

Indian say white man speak with forked' tongue

     He took land kill buffalo and my young

          Great Spirit hear entreaty

               White man disregards treaty

                    Me think he talk heap of buffalo dung

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Entry for PDs "Indian Giver" Contest

Details | Indian Poem | |

Written In Indian Election Time

Oh God!
When this state be free
And an independent kingdom again!
India, a hypocrites’ country, is a Power,
And although we are famous for being straightforward
But, a small nation, in Arms and Weopens we are very weak.
Otherwise, now tired of Double-talk Dialogues and humiliating 
Invitations for Talks,
We’d make it, in a violent war in air.
And an another aggressive Muslim state,
Pakistan (land of the pure!) has kept us captive, there, 
Across the nonsensical border,
And gifted a part, of us, to its Mongol friend!

And Shame on their living! 
These petty politicians in this Indian election time
Are frequenting this forgotten village street.
Some scared of a villain Indian minister,
Others, licking her feet, a widow woman politician.
While others immature, in the nights' dark,
On the roadside walls, are propagandizing for Pakistan.

Ah Alas!
All great politicians are gone,
Like prophets, painters and poets,
These modern high standard schools 
Can not create.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Who Is the Indian Giver

You gave us food and we took your land

It's not right to make promises grand

  We took all your stuff

  Till you said enough --

And gave General Custer his last stand

Details | Indian Poem | |


There was a fella I knew who worked with hammer and chisel

Made carvings in wood that could make your eyes sizzle.

One day he brought a carving to the store

Where they sell tobacco, cigarettes, cigars, and more...

And there it stands beckoning, even in a drizzle.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Scuba diver,Indian tiger


                            Gunshots in distance 
                       Jungle Queen in fast escape  

                            Splash in open  Wells

Details | Indian Poem | |


My mother loves x flag
My father votes y party
My grand parents favour c party
But I’m on basic training of begging!
I too can dream!
Great men began life like me!
I’m confident, I can be great!
Income of my nation is inadequate
to fulfill the stomachs of our poor leaders!
Once their children are still hungry!
How can they eradicate poverty?
My dream will become true one day!!
All candidates undergo a national test
Winners face alone is seen in ballots!
There’ll be only two parties without any flags!
Ten year residents alone can contest in his area!
But only once he can contest in his life!
Winner must get not less than sixty percent votes!
As per the merit list of the votes, get their status
But their retiring age, as the state employs!
I’m confident I can be great one day!
I’m confident my dream becomes true one day!
I’m confident my dream becomes everyone’s dream!
Dedicated to the poor suffering people of the world!
By s.kandasamy,s/o N.T.Sellamuthu,36 New Kallar St
Musiri,Trichy Dt,Tamilnadu,India-621211
Published on poetrysoup .com on 14-10-2013

Details | Indian Poem | |

An Indian Giver of the Heart

Way back in the years you gave to me your heart..
Yanked it back so fast before it could even start..
I pitter pattered through my mind to see what went wrong..
I questioned my inner mind to just see where I belong..
A gift so special torn away , the pain like a piercing dart..

P.D. Indian Giver Contest

Details | Indian Poem | |

Part I of Indian Summer

The air fills with blue, and the greens catch fire
The hammerlight of Summer
With little mouse-steps,
Steals off into apricity.

I divide my days
Between wine and responsibilities
As a child divides his
Between play and obedience.

The time itself, at its best,
Is wine to me,
Full of light and flavors
Vying for my attention.

The aptly named Sept/ember
Ignites itself against the skies
And sets my thoughts asmoulder;
The inspiration I have begged and badgered
To arrive, does so at last
By its own rule, on its own clock
In the deep of the night
While I should be asleep.

I awake,
Dreams close behind my shoulder,
And find myself at this crossroads,
Inexorably older.

Details | Indian Poem | |


An Indian man was laughed at
for his long beard and big hat,
but much truth came out
of his wise mouth:
the next day the river dried at sunset!

Details | Indian Poem | |

On my Indian Land

Muslim came, Christian came, and they gave their separate fame
Maratha, the Rajput, the Mughal has done, to increase its name.
Buddha came; Mahavira came, wishing always India’s fate.
Aryan came, Dravidian, All gave the words of praise, 
All had came and all had gone, India always for all,
Land made no distinction at all.
Spread love is the message for all
As my country greater of all       
Love made no difference that’s all.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Scarlet Moons and Indian Suns

Written August 29, 2013

She could have had my son
As we'd spell our names as one
On scattered ocean shores
Beneath that Indian sun

I loved my ma
And I loved her well
I loved my pa
And that musty smell

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns

I love my family
How I miss this feeling
Of constant embrace
Awaiting at my feet

So come and pray for rain
To wash away our pain
Before the winter stains
What autumn left to drain

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns

Details | Indian Poem | |


Dear Friends , Last year end , while reading about the Red Indian Tribes of America , I got 
inspired to write this simple poem about the 
Dream Catcher ! Hope you like it .

The continent of North America during those
ancient times ,
Were inhabited by various Red Indian tribes .
The Delawares , the Mohawks , the Choctaws ,
The Dacotahs , the Omahas , the Blackeet ,
The Camanches , the Ojibways and the Apaches !
They inhabited the forest , the prairies , the marsh
lands ,
The great lakes , the mountains and the fen-lands !
They lived close to nature and honored their Gods ,
With the spirit of Nature all thing were fraught !
If we recall the story of MacKenna’s Gold ,
The ‘Shaking Rock’ and ‘Canyon del Oro’ ;
Of human greed - breeding death and sorrow !
Which in celluloid has often been told , 
None could take away that Apache gold !

                        ( II )
Today I narrate a legend of the Chippawa tribe ,
Of their ‘magical net’ for a peaceful night !
An old medicine man of this tribe ,
Wove a magical net with gossamer strings ,
To catch the dreams as they float by !
He hung this net above the bed up high , -
To catch the dreams as they float by !
This wondrous net trapped all bad dreams ,
Letting the good ones pass through its netted
seams ! 
And as the bad dreams got entangled in the net ,
The good ones descended upon the sleeping bed !
So should you come across this magical net ,
Never argue about its price , -
Just buy the one of your bed size !
Then hang the net high above your bed ,
For there is nothing to be afraid !
Since dreams shall never ever cease ,
Have sweet dreams always , with a good 
night’s sleep !
                                         -Raj Nandy
                                          New Delhi

Details | Indian Poem | |

The Indian Giver Love Bandit

He promised to love me forever
Then again he was just being clever
He took back his love
So I gave him a shove
Headfirst in cow dung-my endeavor!

** for Indian Giver contest
  sponsored by(Destroyer ((Poet

Details | Indian Poem | |

West Indian Woman

As she walks with a graceful rhythm, when the wind brushes her hair back from her neck
down to her soul. Where the fire ignites her flaming beauty.From the deep in the
Himalaya's to the Caribbean sea. Her scents draws the scenes of pleasure from a weary sole
to a  man of stature.She is West Indian from many cultures in the islands across the
seas.When she laughs it's infectious to everyone. From the early morning rise,to the
setting sun. Once you get to know her you would always learn. No matter where you come
from you will return.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Mess in Indian culture

humidity in culture climax.
why's nonsense pain in sex?
killing, rape and abduction,
is women's attitude corruption?
why natural growth is at risk?
the world society is in progress,
but hindu traditions are in mess,
rapes; leader blames a western fix.
no women is protected by law,
nudity for men is women's rape tax.
over the centuries system is slow,
pain in veil is cultural glow,
disconnect women from the growth,
is it only a solution for modern flow?

Details | Indian Poem | |

Squaw Indian Giver

My Indian Squaw is a beauty.
Keeping me happy is her duty.
   But an Indian giver in every way.
   When I try to get her to play.
She turns up her nose and acts very snooty!

*For PD's Indian giver contest.

Details | Indian Poem | |

Recent Three Indian Holidays

Panchmukhi Ganapati Five faced Ganapati relates to embodiment of all potencies They symbolize the five fleshes in the subtle anatomy felt. The flesh body, the breath or energy body, mental body Body of upper consciousness and body of Cosmic bliss. The fifth body being the highest level of Yogic experience. Thus the five days of celebration is for that five potencies First day-atonement, amends of misdeeds like Thanksgiving. Create vibration of love & harmony among family members. Second day among neighbors, relatives and close friends Create harmony among business associates on the 3rd day For arts, culture, music, dance and religion on the 4th day On last day experience love, tranquility from God Himself. +++++ Onam Carnival- Pookalam A flower carpet Each house-front Dinner on Plaintiff leaf Caparisoned elephants Kathakali Dance, Boat races Of Karuvatta Like raised hood Of a cobra To rhythms of Drums and cymbals People throng and cheer ===================== Pookalam meaning a flower carpet Kathakali – an Indian Classical Dance of South India Karuvatta- name of the boat race +++++ Diwali happy diwali crackers yummy food house lit----- bye bad welcome good
+++++ Date 1-12-13 Dr. Ram Mehta Sixth place win Forms: Free verse, Shadorma and Haiku Contest: Happy Holidays by Debbie Guzzi

Details | Indian Poem | |

Limerick: Once Big Chief Indian called Count Big Toe

Limerick: Once Big Chief Indian called Count Big Toe

Once Big Chief Indian called Count Big Toe
Always counting loud fingers and big toe
Big toes said they worth: Two!
Small toes wanted that Too!
Cut big toes: Now called Big Chief Count No Toe!

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013

Details | Indian Poem | |

black girl and indian boy

Black girl and Indian boy

She is a black girl
In the church choir
He would see her pasting
By the fence wire

He fell in love with her
But they never talk before
And everyday in the yard
He waits to see her at four

He is an Indian boy
Work in his father company
He is an only child
They have a lot of money

She is a poor girl
Living down the line
She goes to church  
She’s so polite and kind

One day he sees her
And He starts to say hello
See his father coming home
So he just leaves a go

But his father sees him
And he mad for so
He said if you to talk to that girl
You leave the house and go

What the hell you talking
To that black girl in the trace
If any body see you 
How I going to show my face

It has very rich family
With a nice girl in toco
We done fix up for you 
This Sunday we have to go

Well he didn’t sleep all night
He love this girl so dearly
And if he don’t do something
Then his future he can see clearly

Next morning he knocks on her door
She face lights up with a smile
He said if it’s ok with you
Need to talk to you for awhile

I have always love you 
But was to shy to say
And if you love me to 
I will leave my father house today

His father disown him because
She’s black and he’s an Indian
But they married that week
Now have two beautiful children

Parents need to understand
You can’t control your children mind
When they are grown 
Their own happiness they will find

God created a world for us
With such beautiful nature
Life would be so boring? 
If we all were the same color

We live in a world today
Every race thinks they are superior
But no matter what religion you are
There is only one Almighty savior