Best Sita Poems
Ramayana, a Hindu epic,
written by saint Valmiki, in Sanskrit
one of the two largest ancient epics,
the first ever poem ever created
many many centuries ago.
It depicts story of Lord Rama
as a kind, fair, brave, soft spoken,
handsome prince, who had
the kind benevolence of gods.
Himself an avatar of lord Vishnu
he was bestowed with divine,
powerful weapons of gods
to be used to fight evil forces.
He won over his consort, Sita,
daughter of King Janak,
in a 'swayamvar', a competition.
Keeping the tradition of honouring
a given word or promise at all costs,
a tradition of his sun god lineage
he went to forest for fourteen years
obeying his father, King Dashrath
and forsake the throne of Ayodhya
for his younger brother Bharata,
as demanded by Queen Kaikayi,
the mother of Bharatha.
He went to forests
with Sita and younger brother Lakshman.
There, he often killed many demons
who had terrorised and killed saints worshipping
peacefully in their holy monasteries,
on latter's requests.
In the 14th year of his banishment,
along with younger brother Lakshman,
with help from his follower Hanuman,
and, King of monkeys, Sugreev,
he fought with King of Lanka, Ravana
a demon King, who had kidnapped Sita
and had wanted to marry her.
After this victory of right over wrong,
and freeing Sita and killing Ravana
he returned to his kingdom Ayodhya
and became the king himself theteafter.
Ramayana, steeped in morality,
depicts duties of relationships,
portraying characters, ideal in nature,
like ideal son, ideal father, ideal servant,
ideal brother, ideal husband and ideal king.
Ramayana has greatly influenced
Hindu poetry, life and culture, thereafter.
Presenting teachings of ancient Hindu sages
in narrative allegory, it intermixes
philosophical and ethical elements.
The characters of Rama, Sita, Lakshman,
Hanuman, Ravana are still revered and worshipped,
in some of the culturally conscious
South and East Asian nations even today.
Two great Hindu festivals,
Dussehra and Deepawali
are celebrated to mark the victory of good over evil,
in India and elsewhere
with fervor and gaiety, every year.
8.6.2020
Categories:
sita, inspirational,
Form:
Narrative
Goddess Sita and God Ram will arrive,
But before that their Hanuman Ji,
In the pushpak vimaan
Houses are glittering today,
No sign of darkness
Happiness is spreading all around,
No sign of trouble
All the doors are open for you
All the hearts are open for you
Oh my God!
Come in our hearts,
Come in our homes,
Fill our life with pleasure,
I know it's really hard,
To spend 14 years in the forest,
And we must learn from you
But before that from your best friend
Who occupies your heart
A warming smile is waiting for you
How long will you take?
Don't tire our open gates
Don't break our patience
We're waiting for you,
Not only Ayodhya,
The whole world is waiting for you
Millions of earthen lamps are lighting
But crackers are not required
They increase the distance from your
So let's go closer to you
By spending the day cracker free,
Oh God, we're waiting for you,
To say,
Happy Diwali!
Categories:
sita, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
I remember meeting you,
I was young girl lost,
You reached your hand and showed me the entrance to twilight,
Between heaven and earth,
We dances on the crystal water,
While the fish swam beneath us in circles,
You taught me the language of the fairies and how to dance with black wolves,
We howled to the autumn moon,
While running through the forbidden woods
You gave me the key to life,
We soared with the angelic angels into the infinite sky,
Reaching the stars they showed us the path to bliss,
Swirling into the galaxy we united into one,
Swings on vines through the jungle
Eating dinner with the lion king,
And listened to the story of Rama and Sita
But one day you fell into darkness and I chased you into the depts of space,
Reaching my hand you grabbed it,
So let us enter twilight once more between heaven and earth.
Categories:
sita, friendship, love, passion, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Sita's getting chubby;
"I'm pregnant," she claims.
Ma's henna-tinged hair
bursts into flames.
It never lived
but Ma shrieks "Honor is dead!"
Sita never wanted marriage
but now how will Sita wed?
At thirty-six
Sita's not a child.
That perfect plastic smile
her whole life she's smiled.
Enough!
Ma is on fire.
She burns on the pyre
of dead traditions and parched dreams.
And life goes on.
Categories:
sita, angst, fire, immigration, new
Form:
Blank verse
A dignified statesman,
A deified ‘Godman,’
A glorified star (of films or sports)
All tumble—
After a Starr report
Or an HIV test
Or a dope test.
Or maybe a Watergate
Or a Coalgate.
Media reports or media hype?
Whistle blowers
On whistle blowers—ad infinitum.
God and my God are antithetical?
Is rape the norm—
Where Rama and Sita are worshipped?
Whatever your belief,
Call it Postmodern Era
Or Kali Yuga
Or what you will,
Will entropy be the norm?
— Ram., R. V.
Categories:
sita, wisdom,
Form:
Lyric
Why the urge to gain equal rights by women,
Has become a topic of debate?
If she wants to be as free as a man,
Why a mess this movement create?
A woman during her period is barred from temples,
But a man, even a rapist get blessings in ample.
The case of Nirbhaya struck our heart’s core,
But could it counter the pain she bore?
Ramayana is a part of history,
If Ram asked Sita to walk over fire is a mystery.
But the present man is no less,
Urges a girl to undergo virginity test,to prove her innocence.
Can she demand the same?
No! It will be a matter of shame.
If he asks for it, that’s a matter of pride,
Because it’s his sole right to select his bride.
Is preference of a boy over a girl justified?
Are we ever going to make our mentality wide?
Feminism is required for a better future,
For human race to be considered cultured creatures.
Categories:
sita, fate, gender, identity,
Form:
Blank verse
O Ahalya
celestial beauty
bloom like lotus
ivory red pink lips
supple like snake
fragrant like rose
A king Indra
a majestic man
radiant like moon
overwhelmed by Ahalya's
beauty like heaven
yes become mindless,
crazy like cupid
disguised as Gautama
sneaked in hermitage
eyes like stars
words like honey
lips like pink butter
O great sage Gautama
your heart pure like god
knew no falsehoods
penance like fire
O king of deities
you Sneaking in,
joined Ahalya in disguise
coupled and mating
drunk and sunk her deep
like wine
first-night wedding
she yet unaware
cold breeze
melting breath
she dallied in joy
thinking soul like Gautama
aah star embraced me
direct from heaven
hermit bloom like moon
whisper like magic
embracing soft
joy deep and long
sage a husband,
did not tarry
Gautama coming back
a deep mystic
same like sage man
exiled out of hermitage
Gautama anger like fire
ahho unwise Ahlaya
what you did
i curse you
curse like stone
Ahalya turns A stone
burning like fire
cold nightmare
a sin of lust
king deity was a liar
no stone age for him
he survived the curse.
after ages
RAMA kind lord
a god who crossed
seas to rescue wife sita
An Avatar,Tranquil,
pacific touch on stone
stone turned a woman
now sinless
Ahalya reunited
husband Gautama
Rama a true bliss
tranquil and calm.
His fronds brightens
While the lotus blooms,
waning raving hearts,
drowning in the bliss
Categories:
sita, analogy, anger, beauty, conflict,
Form:
Epic
Her Cheekbones, smooth as pebbles
Grasped tightly in his sexed up hand, sweating indelicately
Resembling that night the thoughts between the sheets were conceived
Weighing like soaked white carpets
Beneath flea market stands
She Is Beautiful, she is beautiful
Belladonna, noxious
Dusty eyes and wavy hair
Neruda book shoveled away somewhere deep
Inside her closet full of chewed up bones
Illumination, dying in Latin never seemed like
A juxtaposition before the closing of the soul
At least his eyes are a Cambridge blue
Jazz muted in Mortality sings on dangling participles leaking out
From the saxophone
What is that worth?
Thick waist, hourglass coke-a-cola
Mama-sita, mira mira
Lolita-like N.Y.M.P.H.O.ed up eyelashes
Coating tears with manufactured glob
Somebody put in a bottle
The higher your skirt the more your face value
Goes up, up, up pass the mystery between monogyny and the thighs
Right between the slit ice
Like Mmmm, and he slides past the first three bases
Oooh Girl you look so good in those Six Inch Heels
What is it worth,
to throw away your
Worth
For a toaster oven and a washed up guy sitting on your back porch
Scratching his head waiting to be given a pardon for his misdeeds
While American Media stole him away
And blamed it on the graffiti on the Church Walls when it was really
Hipshot for the Hip-Hop , This shameless act of cytotoxicity
when it was really
The Devil trying to slow dance with the pretty girl behind the stage
Eyes that lie time after time and are almond shaped but see no further
Then 6 feet deep and a saxe blue sky
Baby girl, on auction in the club
(Going once, going twice, it’s okay we’ll sell her half price!)
Like a slave, a sycophant child to some sick twisted game
Dancing in the Matrix style of killing the clock
Biting off the hands, to chew them up, spit them out
To pretend like the world isn’t ending over our heads
Seven kids, bloated waist, waitress fingers and lips
Smile, Misfortune dotes on you, Lucky One
What are you going to do when your looks run out?
Heyyy girl, what’s your face value?
Categories:
sita, introspection, urban, visionary, girl,
Form:
Free verse
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XII
IF you pull a mighty long face
Such as even Bollywood can't display
Put not the blame on the mixed human race
The fault most likely comes from animal DNA
Now if you go on pulling that long long face
People'll rightly think you're going out of your way
To attract attention to your you-think handsome face
And some might wish you'd look in the mirror right away
Yet if you insist on pulling that long-gone face
The kind Penelope pulled with suitors in Odyssey
While Odysseus loped with sirens on Scylla & Charibdis
You risk adorning some niche at museums in decay
If you can't resist pulling that long-tired face
Whenever your siblings marry and are whisked away
Remember Sita pining for Rama in Ravana's Palace
Even if some still wonder at Hanuman's role in epic play
So if you must still keep pulling that long face
Favourite sport with chicks watching films from Bombay
Just keep watching Beau-Boy Khan in tear-jerking DEVDAS
The all-time record at pulling faces in every love-sick way
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 7, 2019
Categories:
sita, heartbroken, longing, lost love,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
It was early morn and
I was dreaming not realizing,
It was nothing but a dream
and here it is what I dreamt.
I was soaring up in the sky
no wings to support my flight,
Except my bare hands and legs,
To propel ; propel to reach heights
higher and higher; I floated horizontally
and swam in the cooler layer of
sratosphere like an ace Falcon;
And suddenly kicked hard to shoot up
vertically like the legendary Hanuman,
till I reached a Hermit's cottage mid-air;
Where he served me a bowl of fruits
which I never tasted back in Earth, my abode.
Suddenly, I heard in my dream a bell buzzing
that shook me off my sleep and I found
myself lying on my cot in my dingy room
holding still a book of Ramayana narrating
Hanuman's flight to Sri Lanka in search of
Sita, Rama's consort, across the sea.
Will my dream come true any day?
And will I ever fly like my hero Hanuman?
Categories:
sita, dream,
Form:
Free verse
Oh river of cosmos, eternal, immortal dignity!
Your ethereal flow bears the fruit of progeny,
you create, preserve, destroy, rebuild
transient ages in the timeless loop of universe.
Flickering amber lamp of life you light,
celestial powers in your gracious bosom reside.
You are the empress above the heavenly summit
dwelling on Earth's abode manifested in each being,
you nurture generations with motherly lullabies
you bend the bows of evil with your ferocious sword.
Oh Goddess! Torrents of wisdom and prosperity you pour
from sparkling oceans to azure twilight,
you drench with love this agitated world
when hope flutters in mists of consciousness.
Your selfless exuberance spreads sheltered arms of forgiveness,
haloed glittering incarnations of virtue for us
prevailing as Radha, Sita, Lakshmi, Mary, Durga, Kali, Athena,
for whom civilizations and Gods bow in ecstasy of salvation,
your greatness supreme permeates blending molecules.
Oh woman! Yet you embrace sacrifice and agony for humans
while your gossamer veil cuddles them with the elixir of compassion.
**Poet's Note: In Rigveda 10.125 verses, the Goddess Shakti is described as the supreme power of all cosmos that creates, sustains and rebirths the universe and Gods. Similar explanation for feminine divinity has been given by Lord Krishna in the Bhagwad Gita. The wonder of humanity is that such manifestations occur in other religions too.**
June 1st, 2020
BRIAN'S SELECT 8,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: Honorable Mention
Categories:
sita, love, spiritual, woman,
Form:
Free verse
Remember dewali in Trinidad
We use to decorate the streets
Then all my Hindu friends
Bring me foods and sweets
My table was full with
Food and all kind of goodies
Because my Hindu friends
Use to bring so much for me
Dewali marks the return
To ayodhya of lord Rama
He returns to his kingdom
After defeating demon king ravana
It was the victory of good over evil
In the epic story of Ramayana
And also the slaying of evil demon
King Narakasura by Lord Krishna
Ravana had 10 heads and 20 arms
He saw Rama beautiful wife sita
While they were hunting in the forest
And he plot to kidnap her
So he disguises his servant maricha
As a golden deer to lead Rama
And lakshman away in the forest
Lakshman drew a circle around her
And told her not to step out
But ravana turn as a beggar man
And ask her for food and water
Then turn back as he holds her hand
She cried for help and a fierce bird
Jatayu attacked ravana to save her
But ravana cut off his wings
And when away with princess sita
She threw her necklace downs
So Rama can follow to save her
They slay ravana and Narakasura
And they return to his kingdom in Ayodhya
And the people light the streets
And every houses celebrating
With foods and sweets and music
To welcome home their beloved king
And that is the origin of dewali
And every year on that date
Around the world every where
Diwali are being celebrated
Sorry have to end this poem now
Because my Hindu friends at the gate
With bags of food and goodies
And I’m drooling I just can’t wait
Categories:
sita, education, inspirational, introspection, life,
Form:
Light Verse
IRA; a strong idealogic and separatists,
At last surrender to the democratic values,
Over decades, after a long fight to achieve,
Thousand innocents blood on their name.
When a religion has a fight against a religion,
What a person can achieve in this invisibility,
He can kill himself on the name of a religion,
With a belief God will honour him in heaven.
But God never honoured to anyone,
When Lord Jesus was fighting for justice,
Tarrents hanged him innocently until death,
A miracle was disappeared to punish cruelity.
Lord Mohammad was fighting for justice,
To deliver a better service on the name of God,
But no power came to save innocents,
They were martyred as Hassan and Hussain.
Lord Krishna pretends that a man borns,
For his duty, he has to do that as he did,
Million people were killed in a battle,
As respect for a lady is a story of Mahabharta.
Lord Rama has a fight for his honour,
To defeat King Rawana who was seeking justice,
For his sister she was insulted to cut her nose,
Is Rama respects for ladies as Sita was banished?
Guru Govind Singh when declared a Khalsa,
Society killed his innocent family to stop him,
To establish a religion in a religion’s boundary,
And killed thousands innocently who followed him.
At last they admit that religion can’t survive,
Without a state power and a state power,
Can’t deliver peace without a belief in God,
They also surrender at last to democratic values.
Democracy where a person can enjoy his liberty,
Thousands lost their innocent lives to replace,
A better system to remove dictatorship,
As Iraqi nation is fighting for democracy.
Democracy is a best from for governments,
If they know how to respect and honour a law,
Law is superb in democracy, law fails there,
A system is corrupted, nation has no respect.
All likes peace because peace is only a tool,
That provides sources to develop personality,
To understand a cause of birth to identify him.
Who achieves a best achievement of nature?
Categories:
sita, education, faith, family, friendship,
Form:
Blank verse
No man's too small to hoist a helping hand,
Nor any a deed too small if well-meant,
Nor a task too tough for a noble end,
Mind can if means can't make a mighty dent.
A journey of a daunting task off shore
Begins with but a single step forward,
‘Drop by drop filleth lakes’ is no vain lore,
An ounce of action… oft have we this heard.
Many a learned man knows this truth well,
But rather than help he spins hyper hypes.
Intention matters more, how a squirrel
Strove to earn mythical laurels and stripes,
So goes a tiny squirrel's tallest lore,
Silent did she work building a barrage—
An episode from an epic of yore,
So sang sage Valmiki of ancient age.
A folktale, an aside from Ramayana:
Rama's spouse abducted was to an isle—
Confined to a far off spot by Ravana,
That came camouflaged in a monk's fair guile.
When lured and mislead by a golden deer,
That too was the demon's bewitching guile,
In stealth when cried out, ‘O Lakshman, my dear',
And destiny unfolded in a while.
In Rama's voice the wily demon cried,
And Sita beseeched Lakshman, forcing him
To render help; what followed, a bad dream,
For, Ravan waited hiding in monk's hide.
The search began thence in woods and deep vales,
Hilly terrains, meadows and leas and dales,
And they came searching to where ends the land,
An ocean spread forth, looking like no friend.
Hanuman, Rama's key aid, a legend,
To whom no task too big was, such was he,
Then volunteered to leap across the land
To luring Lanka, a land across sea.
And returned soon with hopeful but sad tale:
Captive Sita’s safe in Ravan's red hands,
Who, in no mood peace parleys to avail,
Oh had to be dealt with on Lankan sands.
________________________________________
Originally Ramayana was written in Sanskrit by Valmiki, a sage who was a fierce bandit in his early life.
Epic | 06.04.13 |
Continued in Part II
Categories:
sita, hero, work,
Form:
Epic
"you are more than I deserve. It's a love I never dreamed I'd find. Happinesd like this is worth dying for..."
- Yasunari Kawabata-
Looking down, while flying midway between sky and earth,
I saw a dog on the grey tongue of an abandoned road,
Licking its genitals under summer-noon's hot slogan.
And I understood how badly I had drifted from your hills.
The hearth, that eatthen hearth, we often mended with butter-clay scooped out of a shallow river called "wahumkhra",
every time it cracked, pitilessly, after meals we managed to cook, sparingly though, will always remain as the only string that holds the chandelier of my fragile existence.
O that sweet hunger, how I yearn for it now.
The pallet of pine-needles stiched with old sacks,
on which we gathered dreams with smell of pine forests,
was no lesser than the priest's preachings on sunday mornings about His heaven's promised infinite sleep.
The narrow streets on which I doddered looking for work,
with constantly slipping away toes from outworn sandals,
while you waited for me with the blossoming seed in your belly, a future, full of honeyed beehives, over which I staggered drunk with restlessness of a beggar, for which I repent till this day.
I never knew, honestly, that I will become an irrelevant thread in the embroidery of jasmines on the hem of mekhala chaddar worn by a naiad, for the first time, shyly, when she attained puberty, and on the day of her subsequent gandharva marriage to an alchemist.
For the time being, I exist as a windless flag with no colors, neither white nor of any color known to mankind.
My soul and heart stay bled, like the butchered wings of Jatayu, but sweetheart, you will hear me flutter, sometimes, in the chuckling of a wounded squirrel and wailing of a cicada in the pine-hills where winds tease clouds, where you dwell reminiscing shadows of our silhouetting nonsenses.
Notes :
1. Mekhala chaddar, a traditional of Assamese women.
2. Gandharva marriage is one of the eight classical types of hindu marriage. This ancient marriage tradition from the Indian subcontinent was based on mutual attraction between to people, with no rituals, witnesses or family participation.
3. Jatayu was a vulture, in the hindu epic ramayana, whose wings were severed by ravana's sword, while attempting to rescue sita when the latter kidnapped her.
Categories:
sita, 12th grade, friend, friendship,
Form: