Best Rani Poems
Refresh
Refined
React
R three R's to
Reform
Redefine
Regain your
Relation with
Raja(king/ government)
Rani(family) and
Region(motherland) for
Repay the universe means
Rejoice
Recreate
Recycle your
Races to live on the planet happily
Remember
Recall
Re join my friends to
Replace hatred, war and agony.
Limerick croises : Once our ‘Rita jumped into Sea Anne-Anne – 14
Once our ‘Rita jumped into Sea Anne-Anne
Sirens howled « panic stations » refrain
One Valhalla Rani
Offered her much money
For a shot sans mantilla – in vain
Our ‘Rita – you bet – a stunning beauty
Not given to falling for flattery
Was all of prime six feet
Which she tucked under meat
For Sevillan beds stood (on) two feet plus three !
So they put her up that night till Morgan
Classified her as subterfuge weapon
NSA roped her in
To put one o’er Putin
Now Chinese wish her to test rat poison !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
O My Jhansi, you are my Paradise,
My whole-hearted goal to win the fierce fights,
Every drop of blood I will sacrifice,
Acquire the precious land, back to our life.
When he left, promised to my beloved,
I will strongly protect his cherished land,
Will keep my promise, never deviate,
The final words to my valiant husband.
I glimpse a ruthless long fight on our way,
The people with us, we are not alone,
I will cherish their love, to God I pray,
defeat for me is not an option.
Prepared to win or die - to lay my life,
For my people, come death, come any strife!
Reference: Lakshmibai, the Rani of Jhansi was an Indian queen of the Maratha princely state of Jhansi in North India. She was one of the leading figures of the Indian Rebellion of 1857 and became a symbol of resistance. (Wikipedia)
September 18, 2020
For A Warrior Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Checked syllables by howmanysyllables.com (14 lines, 10 syllables in each - three Quatrains and one Couplet: following Shakesperean Sonnet Forma
FIRST PLACE
A Brian Strand Sonnet Poetry Contest
SECOND PLACE
For V - Old Or New Poetry Contest
Theme: Valiant
Sponsor: Constance La France
For "Sonnet's Salutation" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Once upon a time there was a palace over a secluded hill
Where lived an Indian blooded ‘Rani’ (Queen) with an inky will
Equipped and armed with a resourceful screen
With the might of her pen, for revolution she would melodiously scream
Each time the ordinary would look up to the hill and see
The flames in her bosom passionately rising to create history
The lushest of Kings from neighbouring lands
Chose to ride for eons to witness the miracles of her resourceful hands
With faith and light, she ruled from land to shore
Glitches out of their virginity; all nipped to the core
Against all bitterness her love spread like the chimes of the Big Ben
To save rebellious souls, she would walk unarmed in to any lion’s den
The Savage, many times would plot for her 'Raj' (kingdom) to crumble away
Not possible! For this Royal tigress each night would humbly kneel and pray.
Squinted eyes,
Squinted hard at the hill top,
Far, far, up on the hill top
A tiny shadow
Couldn’t wait
Wanted to jump and run but
Slowly stepped down
Stepped down the bus
Squinted at the shadow
A faint figure,
A figure of a massive tree
My tree, our tree, our mango tree
Standing high and massive, like a giant
Fifty five years…
Fifty five years inside a dark cell,
Dark cell unknown to what I did,
Fifty five years ago, riots.
Riots against my own people
Only eighteen then.
Not anyone’s blood my own blood on my body,
Neighbors blood in my soul.
Behind bars for fifty five year
This morning I was shoved out.
Shoved out, to the unknown world
Wanted to see her, wanted to see her badly
How many dreams I had
Dreams of our childhood, she was fifteen then
Dreams of how I played with her
She and I, dig a hole on the hill top.
Dig a hole to plant a seed.
A mango seed
Up on the hill
Her compound and my compound separated with logs
We held our tiny heads under the tiny stream coming from top
Caught fish
Colorful fish, tiny ones
Could race to the top in ten minutes then
But today nearly one hour gone,
Impatient, impatient to see her laughing eyes
Heart pounding hard, aching heart
I know she is waiting,
She would wait for me, for fifty five years,
I cannot believe I am really here
Under the massive tree,
Our tree, our mango tree
I squint my eyes passing the mango tree
Her house, my house ?
Empty land
Under the tree, a tiny slate,
“ Rani singhe born 1950 April 02nd ,
Died at the age of fifty,
May she rest in peace” .
Blink my eyes no tears mouth dry
Heart aches, heart yells
ran down fast, as fast as I could, down … down…. Down
Setting Yourself Free
Searching exhaustively for the truth in everything one is taught by others.
Extensively evaluating all things in order to find which path to take.
Thoroughly questioning anything that one is informed by anyone, instead of being
part of the host.
Trusting that everyone has their own path of truth that they follow, however these
paths might not be the right one for the individualist.
Identifying the truths of life by thoroughly researching both sides of every fortune
told by the raja whom is advised by his rani.
Neither believing nor disbelieving one’s knowledge that he has acquired through
attending the institution.
Gathering data from fervently researching both pros and cons, while using the
scientific method for truth finding.
Yearning to analyze several paths of truth in order to find the best-fitting for one’s
way.
Overwhelming being inquisitive towards everything that is advised from a wino.
Understanding the content of all things that one reads from a book, and learns for
one’s milieu.
Radically experimenting through all of life’s endeavors with hopes of finding at least
one that will catch one’s eyes with grandeur.
Syllogistically gathering information through questioning everyone that one meets.
Enticing oneself while studying every ideology of the world with the passion of a
zealot in order to obtain one’s own way of life.
Laboriously diving into a diverse array of the fountains of knowledge and sifting
through them until he finds the one that will help him prevail.
Fanatically familiarizing oneself with the multitude of ideas that the world has to
offer including science, philosophy, and religious belief.
Frantically fusing one’s learned knowledge with his experiences of experimentation
in life, to help him find proof.
Ravaging through the pillars of light and truth while thoroughly investigating the
words of every prophet, scientist, and philosopher.
Expecting to either find a way of life that is sufficient enough to quench one’s thirst
for knowledge or to simply live life through experience.
Exploring the falsification of any truths that are mere opinions without any
substantial evidence.
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Thirty-Two
Late afternoon. Doldrums. The waters stood still. Was She asleep?
Lady Lake then drew her petticoat up to scratch Her shins deep.
At Embryo Islet the siesta-bound birds stirred and squawked.
Did matters of Form and Faith plague only minds of men who weep?
By the spindle Mairie tower wobbled the defiant Sea Anne-Anne fleet:
Galapago Rani of Pharoah’s Independence Square feat
Set course for Pubic Isle with her staunch camera women
But the sail stood limp while Lady Lake puffed Her exhausts down feet
Undaunted she threw rustic baguette crumbs to lasso swan cob
Then to cleave becalmed waters she enticed the cob lob by lob:
Austro-Hungarian Empire looked forward to Waterloo –
Glides and jerks moored her boat on Pubic Isle to ensure her job
From the port-holes of the Préfecture’s seaside ship liner shape
Keenly-trained eyes watched her moves with great approval for her shape:
Chief of Staff thought out loud if she could pose questions for their lot
The wooden bridge to mosque meadow looked saggingly out of shape
Yet again the Commandant strove to clear his throat Writ in hands:
“O! Wise and Learned Mullah! Would’st Thou keep Faith in these here lands!
The dire day wanes fast while this Writ stays unclosed hard and fast…”
“STOP!” cried the Imam. “Maghreb calls! I must hence to avoid bandhs!”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
I'm a big fan of Doctor Who.
I'm talking about the classic series, not the new.
The Doctor defeated the Daleks, the Zygons and the Cybermen.
He also defeated the Master, the Rani, the Quarks and Zoden.
The first episode was aired over fifty years ago in November of 1963.
Tom Baker was my favorite Doctor, my 2nd favorite was Jon Pertwee.
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake : Part Thirty-Four
Sea Anne-Anne Queen in between managed to make it to the Chief’s car
Helped by five Robo-Cops she charmed with fine-timbered voice of star
The Chief (C ) feared being quoted in his official capacity :
« From an anonymous source close to the SCCOO ! »
Urged Galapago Rani : « O ! Anonymous Chief ! Be assured ! »
As the camera focussed on his reflection on glass blurred.
« Could you give us first the composition of the arching SCCOO ? »
« The Chief Executive heads the Crisis Council of the forces armed,
« But immediate decision approval remains in the hands of CS. »
« Who else ? » « Yes, co-opted members include various ministers :
Interior, Defence, Transport, Justice and Foreign Affairs. »
What about the Prefect and Mayor ? » « Only as consultants ! »
« Yes, as Mayor and Chairman of the Regional Authority
He has been made head of the Department of Casualty :
His Ambulance Corps must by foot first to the Metro du Lac
Till Metro Echat thence to the hospital of the Faculty. »
« Jesus ! That’ll be the Day ! Since coming to this terrain
Several of the media fraternity suffer from broken brain !
All cobbled paths and pavements in these surrounds make for pitfalls ! »
« Besides, » interpolated the Chief, « if it weren’t for rain ! »
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake : Part Thirty-Five
Chief of Staff commandeered the Lake Restaurant and Sailing Club
Setting up mass long-term cuisine facilities for Robo-Cop
Turned Swimming Pool amenities into canteen facilities
Took over the now vacant Lycée class-rooms as rest-room club
As someone said within ear-shot: “He has bouclé la boucle!”
Added Galapago Rani: “He sure runs a tight ship schedule!”
Chief Executive called him up: “I can come for seven hours.”
“Sir, best to stay put: Never know what’s between now and next poll!”
The drones and sound-barrier blasts of fighter plane practice runs
Have died down in the distant swan-song red-eyed horizons
And Maghreb prayer for the Faithful was drawing to a close
When the now less-than boom-voiced Commandant edged by entrances
Seeking to confront the Holy Mullah with the Writ’s purpose
Black-beaked Bernache geese stretched sleek clarinet necks to hoot opus:
The Lake’s sacred even-song anthem bidding one and all adieu
As the wintered Sun still majestic drew woollen curtain cloak close
CS ordered check-points to be set up at short intervals
In the Robo-Cop five-strong ring round the Mosque’s exit portals
Lest the “Miscreant Poet” sneak out in chador black by night:
Dainty Robo-Cops were rushed in to frisk chador-clad mortals!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
TO RANI WITH LOVE
(On the death of our pet Pomeranian)
Dearest Rani, where you have gone
Leaving all of us here, utterly forlorn
You were not a mere charming canine
For us, a veritable godsend, angel fine.
Your benign presence made us smile
And filled our lives with glee and shine
You were a source of joy in times of distress
For which we have no vocabulary to express.
We sought in your company joy bountiful
Which you showered in measures plentiful
You kept watch with alert eyes and ears
That scared to hell all unknown intruders.
You filled our home with your presence
Spreading joy and cheer in abundance
You identified yourself with one and all
And showered generously, love on all.
Your tender feelings and gentle caring
Removed all gloom with a cosy feeling
And your presence amidst us always
Brightened, our days with joy glowing.
How to cover your memory in a tiny page
For it is bound to run into an epic voyage
We, hence, lay down our pen, dear friend
Since our love for you shall never ever end.
Rani, I am want to play
as the children to my near by huts
My Toys and friends are calling me
to talk and play with them
My eyes are searching stars and moon
to have my dinner from my hands
I want to sleep in my mom's laps and
want to travel on my father's back
Listen Mom, I want to play
Not to send me to schools and creche
I hate to cry and weep in there
Let me allow to stay in home and
allow me to enjoy my childish days
[It is the Poetry expressing The Feelings and expectations of a Three years female child]
The greatest thing one can give!
The greatest thing one can receive!
Everything is inspired
My composing poems,
Inspired by Rachana
My communication,
Inspired by Anand
My thinking,
Inspired by Jhansi Ki Rani
My way of life,
Inspired by Kalpana
The inspiration step by step
On how to live and think
Is by my mother.
by:-
Vrushani Thaker
Stories, cartoons,
comics I love most
English, maths and science
are like ghosts
They haunt me all day
disturb my dreams,
keep me awake
I want to play
all the way
Let Jack study,
he is the dull boy
Schools are like monsters,
traps us inside
Only a history teacher,
we all together like
Akbar to Shivaji,
Rani Laxmibhai
They fought and played,
never went to school
Want to be those heroes,
Why make me run behind books.
... by Suresh
Yay! Some cold at last, and even a dusting of snow.
We moved back into the dorm—braving knife-like breezes—yesterday.
It was bracing and heroic - do I want it to warm up?
That’s a hard no.
let’s wax poetic..
Think not of winter as bleak
wrap your steely bones warmly, wear a cap
—for gelid wintertide can bind us together.
Midwinter is the time o' the year to be warm hearted,
to find a companion, a creature fair, a lass (or a manly man)
and suggest a more temperate snuggle— it can do no harm to try.
Think not of winter as bleak
make sweet use of flattery, and face cold’s embrace
likewise, cheek to cheek, with a warming and open heart.
.
.
Snowbird by Rani Arbo & Daisy Mayhem
We'll Sing In the Sunshine by Thornbirds