Long Sikh Poems

Long Sikh Poems. Below are the most popular long Sikh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sikh poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Doublethink Beliefs

This life

Rituals we’re asked to follow
Seem to separate man from man
Something’s wrong, it seems so shallow
Sun shines upon all with elan

So we went to temple and mosque
Sikh gurudwara and the church
Favours from God, all in fear ask
Whilst carefree birds, on treetops perch 

Each affirms, their faith absolute
‘My daddy strongest’ is the norm
Fundamentalists resolute
Where lies hermit, bliss rapture warm

The scriptures per say seem alright
For each teaches, true path is love
Narrowness makes us blind to light
If God’s within, why look above

Such being the case, meditate
Celebrating our aliveness 
We are still, nodes within gyrate
Entwining with the That oneness

Our prayer then, not a doing
Having chosen to surrender
Moment by moment, blossoming
Our each life breath, is God’s wonder 

Our next life

One day this feeble form will die
Liberating soul eternal
Deluded desires, seek the sky 
So we’re reborn; God’s miracle

Memory erased, when reborn
The same questions do resurface
Where lies the light that we adorn
Heart seeks to see God, face to face

Of what avail are the scriptures
We are not this here mind-body
Tiring of bondage and strictures
Plunge into the void, when ready

Cessation of thought, is the way
How many times must we be born
Each breath intake, is when we pray 
With animal instincts all shorn

As our breath flows here and now

Accepting ourself as we are
We negate not, fear and desire
Nor with thought spirals, do we spar
Choose staid silence, because we tire 

Shifting our fulcrum into space
We look inwards at all movement 
Futile rat race, blocks divine grace
So sad is heart’s discontentment 

Ceasing to size, we vaporise
Letting go of our doership 
Life goes on, much to our surprise
No need then, for oneupmanship 

Shift, external to internal
Requiring but a mindful eye
All we do, is make desires null
No cause then, for our heart to sigh

That that comes and goes, unreal
Our lower mind knows not the truth
We stand still, feeling bliss appeal
Entwining with God’s will forsooth

Boundaries blur, all becomes one 
We are the holder of the flame
Luminous like the yonder sun
Recognising life but a game

04-December-2021
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member They Are the Magi of the Inner Value

Meera counts the money.... just one hundred and fifty rupees. Still to pay to the grocer and the electric bill. The guests will come and to greet on the Diwali and Happy New year, some sweets for them.  For children , there should be chocolates and light drinks. The homeless people will come in the morning and will have to give a rupee to each. It just leaves 15 rupees. Tomorrow will be Diwali and the day after The New year….For years I have not given any gifts…Oh, Madan.


Meera looks at one of her gold ring on her right hand
As the ring’s grove is empty without any stone.
She lost the diamond of the ring long back unmindfully.
She left for a jeweler’s shop to sell her only treasure.
And to buy a Dipawali Gift for her husband Madan
Who liked and used to play with it in their secret hours.
She buys a gold single bangle for her Madan’s right hand
Even after finding the perfect gift, she begins worrying
That he will be displeased by her bare wrists’ appearance.
Madan comes home, looks at her and greatly shocked.
Reacts a little knowing that his reaction will make sense
When Meera opens the gift of diamond he bought for her.
As she opens the box, Madan reveals, he bought it
Selling his gold bangle, a positive sign of his masculinity.
The story stops here zooming out of the epic proportions,
The gifts that seem useless are the quests successful
We feel, they are the wisest givers and are the magi.

Meera and Madan - the Indian Names

**Bangles are traditional ornaments worn mostly by South Asian women in India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Some men also wear a single bangle on the arm or wrist called kada or kara. In Sikhism, the father of a Sikh bride will give the groom a gold ring.
                            
                                  +++
January 1, 2015
Form: Free Verse
First Place win

I Forget To Learn Myself-01

Birth is not from sin but from the best love, 
from the faithful love of two biological soul; 
From the gushing liquid I'm as if an aquatic animal 
Birth is not from the drop of Pacific Ocean 
but from the drop depth more than that 

This is I from the royal love, 
from that love me and my soul 
an animal of power of speaking, 
holder of best conscience, 
with six senses 
I'm human 

They make me Hindu, Buddhist, Jew, Christian, Muslim, Sikh 
title me with any other name, 
although from my birth I'm human, 
the best shaped animal of God 

Since then I learn what are taught to me 
I build me on that path they teach to build 
I learn sin or virtue how to teach me, 
wickedness, virtuous, hatred, vengeance or love, 
I learn the same as they teach me, 
Because I'm human, following being only! 

From the unknown time 
I learn all in divided laws, 
on the tone of faithfulness and unfaithfulness, 
in the verse of belief and disbelief, 
which are taught me from predecessors learning 
Because I'm human, following being only! 

From the Holy Scriptures 
I learn that are taught to me from good or worse, 
As pantomime doll I stay in mimicry 

I learn from the holy Vedas, Jabur, Tawrat, Tripitaka, 
The holy Injil, Qur'an, Granth Sahib…. 
Learn more from the Holy Scriptures 
Because I'm human, I believe God 
These teachings only for me among the whole created animals 
To be best conscious creation 
To be united animal, not to be divided follower!

When I look at other created animals 
then I find they learn own-self for the essence of life 
For them no need the Holy Scriptures 
So, am I worse than the other creation of the world! 

I learn which are taught to me 
I learn everything but forget to teach myself 

- March 26,2018 Chittagong

Hateful Exit

	
	
A racist white man’s vehicle broke down
in the middle
of the blackest pride side of Motown

He scratched his red neck double chin 
in Appalachian drawl dismay;
perplexed at having a little Aryan problem
of not being “Black Tie Members” insurance covered,
to get his big, blanco Hemi pickup 
towed away

It was hot as an Alabama cotton-picking afternoon
this particular Detroit July morning

He didn’t wanna have to call his best buddy, 
Billy Bob for help,
and end up paying double the repair cost ... 
Plus getting cussed out 
for not not having no beer for a frosty suds favor situation

Fortunately, a kind Haitian couple, and their Fu Manchu
mustached Mexican friend stopped ...
and Good Samaritan darkie-style helped him out

Ricky Joe talked weather and sports ... friendly small talk,
but mostly he was pew quiet as a mouse in his church

When time came to part ways, and Ricky Joe had to thank them 
with thick, German chocolate gratitude ... 
he nearly fainted from melanin love exhaustion
Some neapolitan rumors said 
he had a merry blackberry charity heat stroke

This darkly faint imposition caused Ricky Joe 
to be brought to the nearest minority renown hospital, 
by way of a Sikh-owned ambulance,
in critical condition
The attending nurse was a graduate school native Indian guy 

A nice, Asian lady doctor hands-on treated Ricky Joe,
but the shock was too much for his mind to Jim Crow
RJ had a cardio meltdown:   blown gastric Slim Jim, 
when he opened his eyes and saw her smiling at him ... 

Cardiac arrest Manila handcuffed his chest,
as he tried to stifle the fear his Hillbilly best 

RJ had a Very Vanilla short recovery stay:
He was carried out in a black hearse,
driven by an Arab fella, urban rumors say

A Dream For Better Living

If you like to become a priest,
Don’t try to distinct in West or East.
If you like to become a Saint,
Don’t try to rate on human fate.
If you like to become a teacher,
Don’t try to marginalize coloring feature.
If you like to become a doctor,
Don’t try to exercise inhuman sector.

A Priest can deliver a lecture on welfare,
A spirit can help us to become a lover.
A Saint can bless us to become a human,
Nobody is Muslim, Hindu, Sikh or Roman,
A teacher can build cracking relations,
What is contradiction in growing fashions?
A doctor can inject a healthy structure,
He can remove danger of a fracture.

A priest, saint, teacher and a doctor,
They can civilize the World to become an actor.
A politician should be honest and darer,
That can offer a solution as a family carer.
What do we need to alter in the system?
So we can reduce pain to establish wisdom.
That can provide patience and respect,
A person can live satisfactorily with rest.
 
Living is a God gift and Natural selection,
Why is human having a temperamental reaction?
Natural resources a betterment for creation,
The World society is a God’s Nation.
Why are Language, Colour, Race, and Caste?
A seed of animalism or a barrier of cruelty dust.
Heaven, hell or Qiyamat (calamity), a worthless teaching,
A painful disease and mentally disordered suffering.

Oh, Modern human, what is a best treatment?
To kill innocents; to gain profitable factor.
Who has an objection, human is not wise?
We have, forward, upward and backward rise.
If our deeds are building a thorn reactor,
Are we human or animal, what’s a best chapter?
Experience is getting bored and practices are dull,
Everywhere is bloodshed, what’s a human skull?
Form: Verse


One Day Will Come

I know, this is insulted task,
You are very important to me.
I know, this is insulted task,
You are fully enlightened to me.
I have no objection
You are quiet handsome and smart
I have no objection
Your are honest working hard a part
But I can’t allow you
You are still a servant.
But I can’t allow you
You are lower caste detergent.
I can invite you
If you have a different religion,
I can invite you
If you have a different language vision,
It is a matter of my purity
It is a tradition of my culture and faith
It is a matter of Hindu sanctity
It is a pride of my family myth.
You can’t understand
As you are exploited over the centuries.
You can’t blame them
If nobody accepted you a human the centuries
If you are Muslim
Still facing a caste barrier
If you are Sikh
Still facing a caste barrier
If you are Christian,
Still facing a caste barrier
If you are Buddhist
Still facing a caste barrier
You need to know
Hindu fantasies have strong ties
You need to know
Why all others have mourn flies
They also believe that
Caste is a God gift
They also believe that
Dalits have downtrodden rift
Is world ready to accept you?
Explain me, what have they done for you?
Nobody is ready to help you
If you are Dalit, they have done none for you,
They love you, 
Only the cause of their Religion.
They love you, 
Only the cause of their vision.
Religious philosophy is equal,
Divide mankind and ruled over them 
Religious philosophy is equal,
Kill the welfare of mankind to convert them.
One day will come,
When you will be a religious man,
One day will come, 
When a Dalit shouln’t be a Dalit fan.
Form: Name

Heartbroken

mr. hope & change is saddened again,
as just a few weeks ago the nation mourned
the deaths of those blown away in a movie
theater, 
now a skinhead takes out 6 in a Wisconsin
Sikh temple &
yet the refrain is the same---
not only will he not address the real issues at 
hand,
he sends his little babbling bird, mr. carney,
out to do the dirty work,
telling us that it’s the gangs that kids are
joining, which lead to these violent 
outbursts,
and when they start to piss out their mouths,
these talking heads whose strings are 
pulled by the gun lobby in the US,
they start to dabble in the most inhuman
nonsense,
for we all know the statistics,
we all know that in the UK, the homicide rate
due to firearms
is ridiculously low in comparison to this land
of mother****ing 
cowboys,
who sleep with a goddamned six-shooter 
beneath their mattresses &
yet because this empire is based on violence,
the violence it spreads all over the globe,
the violence that it beats down on its citizens
with,
is it any wonder that once in a blue moon,
somebody ends up killing a bunch of people
with a gun they got on the internet while
simultaneously playing a video game?
so “how many deaths will it take till’ we know?”
maybe if somebody goes on a rampage 
every couple of weeks?
hmmm….ya think then that charlie heston & the
boys will stop jacking off & 
rethink their policies?
maybe if there is a rampage every week,
mr. hope & change will get off his ass & 
actually do something, regardless of how far
off november is?

don’t hold your ****ing breath.

A Teacher Should Have Teacher-Like Qualities

They sit gossiping 
around on chairs
Under shady walnut
Sh! Sh! Backbiting! 
Abusing! Loud laughing…
having fun!
A proud young man 
newly appointed
Abused his pupils in 
anger
When I in innocence 
interrupted him
And reminded of his 
class,
For the poor pupils I saw 
were waiting
Opening their books on 
their bags.

Another one, a Master, I 
saw was pulling his 
inferior female 
colleague’s arm
And dragging her in…!

A lecturer kissing his girl 
students on cheeks, 
whispering in their ears, 
and 
embracing…!

A broad shouldered tall 
teacher would kiss and 
bite
The plum-cheeks of my 
fair-looking class-
fellows,
One among now is a KPS 
officer!

An old lame teacher,
A drinker, abused the 
pupils all the time,
Often sitting cross-
legged, lighting a cigar.

O! Let’s stop it here… 
but a sick Sikh 
headmaster
Now I see had been 
highly communal
Would beat at prayer-
time
The poor pupils 
sweating in sun,
Without seeing  the 
wooden-slates
And beating with willow-
twigs their soft thighs.

Thanks to the highly 
disciplined modern 
schools
In private sector
But the curriculum be 
child centered
And not fatiguing and 
boring.

O O!  Recently I have 
heard of the teachers 
Who gave me a 
humiliating nickname,
One is shouting and 
hurling stones at people,
Another is dumbfounded, 
hardly talking to any one.
 
Whom have you hired 
teachers...?
Drivers and Boucher—
I wonder and I ponder…
But, let I at least protest.
© Fayaz Bhat  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Invocation

Beliefs, rituals myths... are like organs of religions,
To god and goddesses, in respect, we fear like pigeons; 
Apollo, Artemis, Athena, and Ares... of Greece,
Presided over by Zeus and Hera, did fear increase...!

Sumeria, Columbia, India, and Egypt,
Though varied, like treasures, had their age-old religious script;
Philosophers or poets or saints or serenely sages,
Invoked gods and goddesses before beginning their pages...!

John Milton called on the Spirit; darkness to illumine,
Lift his soul from mundane; always to dwell, in the divine;
Denise Levertov had his reason to make his house yarn,
Like a bear; and the snow blocking all the entrances, darken...!

Christians begin thoughts, words, and deeds with the Lord's great Prayer,
Muslims submit supplications - Dua - with great love and care;
Hindus chant Mantras, holding sacred power and virtue,
Sikh Akaal Moorat, Ajooni, Saibhang... have great value...!

The Eternal God living in me, I invoke, in awe, 
Alla or Guru or Mohammad, or Christ of love-law;
Illuminate my lone paths in ways I do not know how,
To them, in love, sincere worship... ever I humbly bow...!

May my life, like mirrors, reflect your love, to each and all!
May yearnings of mine, like streams, in you ever rise and fall!
May no harm to any beings, in my heart spring at all!
May my soul, like a waiter, stand ready to heed your call...!

20 October 2021
Form: Rhyme

Wedding Breakdowns

the  joys of marriage become memorable with unforseen breakdowns


Late night frolicking and teasing continued
Dancing and music lasted till early hours
With a beating heart and ignited nerves 
I lay nervously on bed wondering what lay ahead 

My groom arrived with a garlanded brow
Our marriage was performed with religious fervour
While the priest read out our marriage obligations
We walked in tow four times around the holy book

Family pressures had made my groom suspicious
Whether it was really me or else behind the veil
He bent and peeped lifting the veil slightly
Much to the chagrin of the priest and mirth for family

After the family lunch we drove down to his home in another city
His car broke down for a breather on an isolated road
My groom romanced on the ground beneath his car in the summer heat
While I all decked and drenched, bent down to observe him in greasy repair 

In final disparity of three breakdowns we ultimately reached home
Bathed and refreshed we were having a lovey-dovey talk
When there was a loud bang, we opened the door to find a smiling friend,
He was unable to reach the marriage venue as his car had broken down!


March 24, 2016
Contest: My Wedding Day Is Special 
Sponsor: Olive Eloisa Guillermore


*  reference to a Sikh marriage

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