We are the storm the world denied,
The fire that history that couldn't hide.
From broken homes, to stolen lands,
We rise with heavy iron in our hands.
No ruler’s crown, no soldier’s gun,
Can dim the light of what’s begun.
Through exile’s night, through prison’s bars,
We carry Eelam in our scars.
We are not ashes—we are the furious flame,
We speak our truth, we name our name.
The youth of Eelam, fierce and free,
Will fight until our people see.
O youth of Eelam, fierce, untamed,
We guard the truth, we bear the flame,
Against all odds, we rise, we fight,
For justice, freedom, and our right.
In the shadowed dawn of distant days,
Where echoes whispered of lost ways,
There stood a name, etched deep in lore,
Captain Miller, amidst the roar.
A soldier forged from fire and flame,
Bound to cause, beyond mere name,
With eyes that held grief and pride,
For lands and lives, for those who died.
Steel and sorrow marked his path,
Through broken fields, through aftermath.
A journey weighed with hope and cost,
In battles won, in voices lost.
But history paints with shades of gray,
Heroes, villains blurred by day.
To some, a fighter fierce and strong,
To some, echoes of what went wrong.
Yet beyond the banners, blood and strife,
Lies a tale of fleeting life.
Of choices made, of hearts grown still,
Of dreams that surged against the will.
So let the story rise and fall,
In silent woods, through every call.
For Vallipuram Vasanthan's name still remains,
A thread within war's vast domains.
Beneath the sun's eternal flame,
A dynasty rose to eternal fame.
The Cholas ruled with might and grace,
Their legacy carved in time's embrace.
Kaveri's waters sang their song,
Of rulers just, and armies strong.
Temple carved with sacred art,
A culture vast, a noble heart.
From Rajraja's mighty reign,
To Rajendra's seas where power gained.
Their ships sailed forth, the oceans bowed,
To the Chola's might, the world avowed.
Their temples stood with granite stone,
A testament to what they'd known.
Through divine halls, their glory shone,
Their culture carved, their power grown.
In the books of history, Cholas are bold and proud,
As their reign stood tall above the crowd.
Through bloody battles and warriors stout,
The Chola's names are what the warriors shout.
Their heritage, a timeless flow,
In Kaveri's depths, the tales still glow.
A dynasty whose strength did grow,
The Chola's legacy, we know.
,
Beneath the trees, a tale of a Tamil revolutionary,
As in history of tamils, the people viewed him as a legendary luminary.
'Thalaivar' the title he was given,
As his reputation was on a different level, when he was living.
Through fields of war, he engraved his name,
In a country torn by sorrow and pain.
As a sense of anger boiled in his heart,
He promised to never to be ripped apart.
Through endless killings and bloody battles,
He hunts the enemy like a tiger hunting cattle.
The roar of the tigers, the singeing flames of war,
As the tigers are ready to slice the enemy's jaw.
A dream of Tamil land to rise,
But at what cost, beneath the skies?
A price of peace, hope of salvation,,
As soldiers have to sacrifice for his country's liberation?
A man of vision, of war, of pride,
Yet history judges all who stride.
A leader to some, a foe to others,
A paradox bound in the land of mothers.
As time moves on, the country's wounds and scars still abide,
His name reaches through the skies, far and wide.
Vellupillai, the true Tamil warrior,
As his name rises through the ranks, of a true hero.
In the jungle's heart, where shadows and spirits blend,
A silent hunter, a forest's friend.
Stripes of amber, black and gold,
The tale of power, courage and bold.
Its eyes burn bright, flaming hue,
Reflecting the skies of cerulean blue.
Its claws are like a silver, steel sword,
As it rules the jungle as its legendary lord.
Its roar splits heaven and hell,
As earthquakes and tsunamis are caused by a shattering yell.
Hunters poach them for their magnificent, golden robes,
As its lengthy tail is like a serpent coiling the globe.
It lives among the jungles, sand, wetlands and snow,
During the dark, its orange, blazing eyes begin to glow.
Deers, birds and boars is a king's delightful feast,
As the enemy feared this bloodthirsty beast.
The speed of the beast is beyond the stars,
As its back is full of lacquer, black scars.
The beast itself ruled Lanka with Tamil kings,
The sabre-like fangs and crushing claws blings.
Oh Tiger, the guardian of the land,
Let Lord Murugan feel you with his divine hand.
Let Lakshmi shower you with wealth, fortune and prosperity,
As the beast speaks to the people in a tone of sincerity.
Flashes to flashes, gust to gust,
The sky that was once calm is no longer hushed.
The clouds have darkened as rain pours down.
Tornado sirens send chills through the town.
Everyone rushes.
Everyone hushes.
Hurry, my dears,
To avoid the wind's clutches.
Get to the basement and cover your head.
The noise of the storm brings a new kind of dread.
A swirl of items we once called our things
Spread over the land in a sordid display.
Everyone hurries
To see their new worries.
Rush now, my dears,
As the whole town is stirring.
The sight of the neighborhood sucks out your breath.
All houses are flattened; a mystical mess.
Clothes strewn throughout trees and
New tears being shed,
But things are just things and nobody is dead.
Everyone slows down
A silence throughout town,
Come now, my dears,
We have sunk but not quite drown.
C A U S A T I O N vs. D E T E R M I N I S M
Choices form towards our preordained trajectory
Decision built bricks stack factors progressively
Circumstancial pegs compile in accord to faculty
Dogmas of downtrodden clogged with profanity
Circles run rings around predictions, an equator
Divides same from same in symmetrical centre
Cogs who push their neighbours never blame us
Duration in environ expidited by wheel's impetus
Certainty occurs, journey obscured from turning
Decorum's shield prohibits peripheral discerning
Contingent coddles confederates, cave sedation
Dictated picture is droll pattern of premeditation
Character patter converses with class conducive
Dialogue delays, latitudinal liberal splay spruking
Concious diverges in a dual carriageway purview
Deliberation channels hairpin 's curve impromptu
14th February
Fortitude Breaks
Causation Chains
Christmas dreams are of happy occasion,
of bells and colours, Santa and presents,
but floods, deluge I saw in my vision,
of floating buses and drifting corpses,
in panic people scattered for cover,
water swirled around ready to drown them,
trashing cars, collapsing city tower,
afloat I saw baskets, carts, dirt and scum,
I awoke in fear, I do not deny,
but what it all meant, I had not a clue!
Next day with family I shared my dream,
On boxing day, dream was reality,
I had foreseen the asian tsunami 2004!
stranger still are many languages I heard,
from all the regions the flood waters hit!
The Unexplained poetry contest
2nd placement
Carolyn Devonshire
Written 01/10/2020
15 lines
10 syllables each
free verse
Having big heart
Full the demand of my love life is i am right move left to right in front of gate for a wake when
I die
Sound flow in a beat to tell the match universal truth is high that I have to completed my life leaving behind a question
Why the mercy called me having big heart
Is i should burn my bleed from my eyes without seeing you again
Don't worry thought is just end when I stop my hands by holding pen taking ink from my heart
How far is you but how near I am by desperate nail cut to bite my skin and give a mark
Think it's a joke why I am sad stupid is not you because I am having big heart to say goodbye with a kiss love you
With love all
Jagdish Bajantri
Who is interested in this tale?
They know you eat fish
You on occasion laugh but seldom smile
You always make a birthday wish
For wellness and fullness
Of people with want and need
Standing at the temple gates
Where gargoyles stare down in seeming greed.
The best and biggest smiles are under these gates
In faces which are varied caricatures of fate
This is the most famous of all gates
Ambaal fed me here just enough
Then she read my writings on the slate.
It is a temple and a state
Where mind matters and inner self dominates
Citizens speak of the ruling laws
Allowing barriers of expression to break.
Here you will not see lazy loitre
Freedom of spirit here is graded backwards
Making children and illusory clutter
Exchange of energies between child and aged occur.
This temple tale of my existential flavour
Is a mix of right and wrong ingredients
Made of coveted thoughts and odd behaviour
In the long run functional alltogether.
The peacocks dance
at grove near the cool pond;
and the lotuses brace
lamps like raised heads;
Nimbus clouds thrum
like loud drums;
and violet lilies scrutinize
the scene with bulbous eyes;
Hushed wavelets
array like curtains;
and the bees harmonize sweet songs,
like soothing tunes of (fish-shaped) harp;
Amidst this picturesque place,
the MARUDHAM is enthroned
*Marudham- The God of fertile land
The old Tamil literature describes the five species of lands,
kurunji-mountain land
marudam-cultivated land/farm land
mullai- forest land
neydal-beach/maritime tract
paalai- desert
This is my translation of a poem from Kamba Ramayanam
Kamba Ramayanam, is a Tamil epic that was written by the Tamil poet Kambar during the 12th century. Based on Valmiki's Ramayana (which is in Sanskrit), the story describes the life of King Rama.
The immaculate music from the Veena,
The luminous evening full moon,
The cool pleasant breeze,
The generous spring season,
The buzz of the honey bees,
near a cool pond with fresh water flowers,
and I perceive everything
under the shelter of my supreme Lord's feet.
Appar Tirunavukkarasar( "King of the Tongue, Lord of Language"), was a seventh-century Saiva Tamil poet-saint.
He praised Lord Shiva and composed nearly 4900 hymns but unfortunately only 313 hymns are available today. I translated a hymn here and fortunately it is applicable to all religions...
Limerick crochetés: Once Tamil Promotion Director
Once Tamil Promotion Director
Excised wise Japanese co-founder
Called him names like rogue thief
Set himself up as Chief
All Dravidian Tamil Editor
He posed as the Royal Ancestor
Even of the Chola* Emperor
Slave-drove workers in fief
Used savants make belief
Such the Tamil Highness Publisher
He caged talents the Money-Maker
Poised as Conference Organiser
Preyed on Buddhist belief
On Chan and Zen mischief
To lard his own family bunker
Ideas he plucked from the Other
Made as if he put up with bother
Tamils to lead as Chief
No matter what the grief
None see his pen as plagiariser
All helpers rough-rode he the Miser
Shed them shorn one after the other
Damn not this common thief
Just his penchant for Chief
For Tamil knowledge made he Server
[* The Chola dynasty (among other South-Indian reigns) of the 10th to 12th centuries C.E. extended Tamil culture and civilization over the better part of Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia without having recourse primarily to conquests and/or of maintaining colonies.]
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
For your heart
Checking out the puls
It is faster than the last
Going up and down in a
Music eyes can not blink
Body is shivering in carzyness
I think it will stop but not sure if
You hug me tight and give a
Peck on my cheek heart beat
Playing a game of love emotions
coming back to the hospital when
I was in ICU and
Called your name you was not
there but your love give me a gift of
new life I never walk on a Water but
my heart beat in a tear you never open
your ear but reading my heart beat by
calling my name is this is my dream or
my heart beat beating
For your heart
With love all
Jagdish bajantri
I am really bald on top.
But still I grew my hair.
And now I don't know where to stop.
I truly just don't care.
I'm 59 and live alone.
So no one to impress.
It's longer than I've ever grown.
Sometimes I look a mess. :)
It's funny how the time goes by.
And it just keeps getting longer.
I just let my freak flag fly.
As resolve's just getting stronger.
Actually, I don't look bad.
But I don't look that close.
These days it's more than just a fad.
Quite ridiculous, I suppose.
I see some women wear theirs short.
I notice that more now.
I guess that they are just that sort.
But I'm enjoying the wow.
Something like this can make you think.
And wonder what the heck.
Some probably say I shouldn't drink.
And I'm dead above the neck. :)
Well one more phrase and then I'm done.
It's getting kind of late.
After all, I'm just having fun.
It's just hair, it's not my fate.
Specific Types of Tamil Poems
Definition | What is Tamil in Poetry?