Long Sri Poems
Long Sri Poems. Below are the most popular long Sri by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sri poems by poem length and keyword.
The train, halted under the shade of sacred hill
They flowed out, and, wandered here and there
holding big, small, colorful, old and new packs of belongings
To, find comfortable chests and knees
some carelessly slept on un-desiring places,
but many there stood still
to face the misty, white clouded sky beyond the ridge,
Perceived their feet had reached
the starting point of adventurous tramp
Men, women, young and old with little ones
crept forward Just like a bunchy row of ants
filled with amazement; some stood, and watched
the vivid green forest canopy and flowering ferns
swinging in the frosty breeze!!
The minds filled with compassion, harmony
and respect each other
By murmurous chanting, that oozed into their veins
in the morning twilight
Tenderness of beams brighten the white dresses
of devotees
Time passed slowly
And the far valley down, a string of people moving upwards
on the zigzagged narrow path
Surrounded by thick green vegetation which
being the habitat of bees, birds, butterflies and
variety of big and small animals
Oozy willows dropping pearl like cold water drops
But few of moving people put a glance
at the phenomenon!
What a peregrination, having a cool gust thrill
which each body and its soul begird
The strenuous walk will bring to a halt at the noble foot print
Some managed to reach the desired end
but some could not attain the will
they stopped hopelessly, stepped down
with forsaken aspiration
those who topped the hill, huddle together
engaged customary rituals,
The eco of the ringing bell spread over the chilled atmosphere
through hill tops, forest, and the moving folks
Excitement broke out
Devotees squeezed catch a glimpse of sunshine!
The sun appeared slowly with a trembling smile
through the glistening horizon
Sunshine! Miraculously radiated across the mountain range,
forest canopy and everything
open to tender beams of light
What a huge strength,
Noble hopes and wishes
fulfilled the pilgrimage!
J.Weerakkody
(This poem is about pilgrims who climb the summit of breezy sacred mountain of Sripada, the holy mountain of Sri Lanka, where suppose to be emblematized the footprint of Lord Buddha. After worshiping the sacred footprints the devotees anxiously watch the panoramic maiden sun rise over the sacred mountain. The poem is vividly realized descriptions of nature.)
Staking Claims: For Yucatec Maya & Native Peoples
The stones of the desert cry with me
They are brothers and sisters, but no bloody kin
New hearts see just cold rocks … no warmth or charity …
Might you see how we worship gods in them?
The gods themselves are dead, buried in hopeless holes
They died when we could not stop the excesses of each Columbus
Who brought a brutal hunger for gold and souls
Then bone and marrow fell within Columbus’ compass
The trees and tree stumps of the Yucatan
Hold deep scars and memories in their bosoms
The limestone cries quietly for the sons of Chillam Balam
Their tears yielding tomorrow’s blossoms
For even grasses, herbs, insects … know
That they too will be sucked, one after another
Away from the withering, wrinkled body of our Mother
Through a gaping hole in the atmosphere
All earth cries with the sun and stone worshippers
The blackened peasant clasps his callused hands
With those last calories from a breakfast of peppers
Unaware that his gods died hopelessly condemned
The desert explodes into those oases
Where infatuated faith still yields cool, delicious flesh
And forgiving flowers among the spikes in the cactus:
The desert and stones are gentler than Columbus
©Dr. A. S. Deo, 500 Years after Columbus, circa 1996.
BACKGROUND NOTE OF HORRORS:
(Written in the 1990s. Blood and tears are part of the story, not only for Native Peoples like the Maya of the Yucatan, but for my wife and daughters, too. A Sri Lankan professor allied with my Promoter/Chairman of my doctoral committee, objected to my politics outside of the classroom. They used the clout of the legal department at my campus, The Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, to shut me up and deny my degree. They failed, thanks to my “cold stone gods” and Jesus. I defended my thesis, successfully, on 1 May 1995 and was back working in my native South Africa in June 1995! Soon I was hired by the Department of Foreign Affairs in Pretoria, when Nelson Mandela was President. He retired in 1998. Sadly, little changed in the then DFA at the Union Buildings, and poor of South Africa … and across the globe, continue to get false hope & promises from Liberals, Conservatives, Blacks & Whites. Jesus alone will speak truth to you, about EVERYTHING. Check a Bible near you, start with John's Book)
My heart cries for thousands and thousands of people
those who perished in the earthquake-spawned waves;
known as tsunami, the worst natural disaster
that caused tons and tons of deaths across Asian countries.
It’s a great tragedy, a giant blow to humanity,
with its repercussions to all spheres of life –
a wake-up call, an immediate response
that needs to be attended to and done forthwith.
Global mourning takes its course in every nation,
particularly in these countries of Asia where –
Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka are faced with difficulties;
in coping with destructions, tragedies, and other commotions
indeed, an urgent call that needs an international attention.
In four decades this catastrophe has ceased its wrath,
but after that starts another episode, so terrifying
that people who are caught up in that mere situation
can solemnly declare and profess their fears.
Oh, Mother Nature! at times we don’t know
your reactions that cause pandemonium,
tragedy, destruction, sorrow, and pain to all
like this one, a very strong and powerful disaster.
However, across the world, people show their compassion
with their unwavering generosity that floods in all levels
it’s an illustration that we’re humans with caring behaviors
to all those who’re afflicted and severely hit by this phenomenon.
I can’t imagine how the world mobilizes and responds
showing their love and concern to these people in pain
loss of lives, heart brokenness, and other misfortunes;
these generate an answer to be mindful of them in many ways.
I see the unprecedented generosity that rolls in every land,
institutions and other organizations make a collaboration
in what is conceived and put into action: fund raising,
charity, and pledges of thousands of donors.
Horrific media images shown in television channels,
are remarkable pointers for reflection and yet an invitation;
for someone who needs conversion and a return to church call,
that life can be as quick as those giant waves that killed many people.
It’s a theological reflection which embraces human sufferings,
Like a pathway to profound invocation, faith and trust in Him;
Oh God, our source of strength and goal to fulfill this portion
Where we unite ourselves to all those who’re in afflictions.
Radha’s Song- A folk Song of India 2/2
Prelude
This folk song is based on the childhood incidents
of naughty 8-10 years old Krishna, who use to
please everyone of Gukul village, Gokul is the
place where the divine Krishna was brought up
by his foster mother Yashoda.
O, Please tell me, what should I do,
Speak a word, to extinguish my worries,
I cannot live, without seeing,
The alluring face of our naughty Krishna.
O, please tell my friend, how should I manage it,
What plea and excuse dear, I can tell in my home,
How to go back to home, without Gagariya and Chunri,
Even without water, which would create only difficulties for me.
Stunned and mesmerized, by the magic of our Krishna,
I stand here only, in a state of being sweetly robbed,
Instead of searching my Chunri and Gagariya, O Sakhi,
I am trying to touch his alluring image only, in the water.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 26 10 2010
(Protected under copyright provisions of Poetry Soup)
Clarifications:
*Radha. Radha was the childhood friend and was one of the most beloved Gopi of Lord
Krishna. She was the beauty, power and aura create the ethics of love. None of the
scriptures consists of the power to verbalize her beauty, for it is clear enough that when
beauty of Sri Krishna makes several hearts leave their boundaries, her beauty is so
mesmerizing that it makes Him loose consciousness.
*Krishna. Krishna is often depicted as an infant or young boy playing a flute as in the
Bhagavata Purana or as a youthful prince giving direction and guidance as in the Bhagavad
Gita. The stories of Krishna appear across a broad spectrum of Hindu philosophical and
theological traditions.] They portray him in various perspectives: a god-child, a model
lover, a divine hero and the Supreme Being.
*Gagariya. The earthen pot used still in Indian villages to collect water from river, pond
or wells.
* Chunariya. A long strip of cloth to cover the beauty of a woman. It normally hangs on
the bosom to cover them.
Punghat. Is the word used for a place from where water can be collected by village women
of India.
*Sakhi. Hindi word means female friend
My heart cries for thousands and thousands of people
those who perished in the earthquake-spawned waves;
known as tsunami, the worst natural disaster
that caused tons and tons of deaths across Asian countries.
It’s a great tragedy, a giant blow to humanity,
with its repercussions to all spheres of life –
a wake-up call, an immediate response
that needs to be attended to and done forthwith.
Global mourning takes its course in every nation,
particularly in these countries of Asia where –
Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka are faced with difficulties;
in coping with destructions, tragedies, and other commotions
indeed, an urgent call that needs an international attention.
In four decades this catastrophe has ceased its wrath,
but after that starts another episode, so terrifying
that people who are caught up in that mere situation
can solemnly declare and profess their fears.
Oh, Mother Nature! at times we don’t know
your reactions that cause pandemonium,
tragedy, destruction, sorrow, and pain to all
like this one, a very strong and powerful disaster.
However, across the world, people show their compassion
with their unwavering generosity that floods in all levels
it’s an illustration that we’re humans with caring behaviors
to all those who’re afflicted and severely hit by this phenomenon.
I can’t imagine how the world mobilizes and responds
showing their love and concern to these people in pain
loss of lives, heart brokenness, and other misfortunes;
these generate an answer to be mindful of them in many ways.
I see the unprecedented generosity that rolls in every land,
institutions and other organizations make a collaboration
in what is conceived and put into action: fund raising,
charity, and pledges of thousands of donors.
Horrific media images shown in television channels,
are remarkable pointers for reflection and yet an invitation;
for someone who needs conversion and a return to church call,
that life can be as quick as those giant waves that killed many people.
It’s a theological reflection which embraces human sufferings,
Like a pathway to profound invocation, faith and trust in Him;
Oh God, our source of strength and goal to fulfill this portion
Where we unite ourselves to all those who’re in afflictions.
3.
Or down yet another city street,
This Way down that grand Hiway,
That Third Eye opened:
Random patches of dandelion manifest,
Climbing the overgrown commons by the road;
Disappearing out of sight -
By the cracked, sun-blanched sidewalk;
Golden and deep emerald green dandelion
Over the smog-choked horizon.
Humanity on the brink,
Sliding down that proverbial 'slippery slope" -
To the proverbial abyss of our insouciance, to
Our bourgeois folly, infernal cruelty fed by witless greed,
The more mundane, mere surface of all things, as they may be.
But again, surely, this can't be all that is: So mean, so toxic.
Refreshed, one looks again, looks with eyes wide open with
New Saving Knowledge.
Now the patches of dandelion seem even more startlingly
Alive and vibrant.
They seem, somehow, almost "more real than real".
Illumined, they appear hyper-real, dazzlingly brilliant,
Appear preternatural, mesmerisingly coronal, and
Opulent, yet as though man-made, like ethereal origami,
Like the sun itself, another Saving "Point of Navigation" to
the Hidden Infinite Divine Source behind all things mundane.
*****
"Jesus said [to Judas Iscariot], 'Come and I will teach you ...
about a great realm and a boundlessness whose measure no angelic
race has comprehended. In it is the great Invisible Spirit ...'"
--- The Gospel of Judas 10: 1 - 5
"God is one's very 'own'. It is the eternal relationship. One realizes Him in
direct proportion to the intensity of one's feelings for Him. Don't be afraid.
Always remember that somebody is protecting you."
"He who is really anxious to cross the ocean of the material world will somehow break his bonds. No one can entangle him."
--- The Holy Mother, Sri Saradamani Devi, the divine consort of
Sri Ramakrishna
"Mary [Magdalene] said [to Jesus Christ], 'Lord, is there a place which [lacks truth]? The Lord said, "The place where I am not!'"
--- From the Dialogue of the Savior
"God is a dyer. As the good dyes, which are called 'true', dissolve with
the things dyed in them, so it is with those whom God has dyed. Since his dyes are immortal, they are immortal by means of his colors."
--- From the Gospel of Philip
THIRUK-KURAL on not offending the Great*: Periyaaraip Pilaiyaamai - Canto 90, K899 and K900
[* The "Great" here are indifferently the King or other learned and wise people whom the King ought to respect and fear. In this canto, Thiru-Valluvar repeats himself (though elegantly, cf. K899 & K900) - unless it were for the purpose of reinforcing the idea of the weak who dare pit themselves against the strong and powerful - and contrariwise the strong and cruel meet the same fate of ruin if they incurred the wrath of the noble and virtuous-minded. It is evident nothing anti-authoritarian was permitted or conceivable in his time. Yet, reflect on how Lenin outlived the Tsars; Solzhenytsin and Pasternak - Stalin and his successors, just as George Washington - the British Imperial Crown; Vietnam veterans - Nixon; Li Xiaobo - thanks to the Nobel Committee and other campaigners like Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International who would shut an eye to wanton persecution within Western democracies - Xi of the Peoples Republic; the German Jews - Hitler; but NOT the one-man (Sri Lankan) opposition leader Jeyaretnam in Lee Kuan Yew's Singapore.]
K899: eenthiya kolkaiyaar siirin idaimurinththu
veenthanum veenthu kedum
When blazes forth the wrath of men of lofty fame,
Kings even fall from high estate and perish in the flame. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
If those of exalted vows burst in a rage, even (Indra) the king will suffer a sudden loss and be entirely ruined. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Should the virtuous in lofty positions become angry, even the king (of kings) will fall from high heaven. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K900: iranthuamaintha saarpudaiyar aayinum uyyaar
siranththuamaintha siiraar cherin
Though all-surpassing wealth of aid the boast,
If men in glorious virtue great are wrath, they're lost. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
Though in possession of numerous auxiliaries, they will perish who are exposed to the wrath of the noble whose penance is boundless. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
No way the powerful can avoid downfall should they offend and incur the wrath of the noble-minded greats. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
To vt
How sweet is this divine duo..!
Let me complete the verse due
Ethnicity emitted elegantly
As they pose magnificently
Majestic bevy with hair cascadic
To extoll I find words sporadic
A light flashing adds grace
They resemble Goddesses
Royal and regal aura
My screen is lit with Juno and Minerva..!
To my Goddess
May thy verses fetch you honour
My joy reaches extreme tower
Would ever cherish thy appearance
On my screen in vibrance
Rose pink stance being special
It made my day real
I wish all thy work and toil
Soon fetch awards and achievements coil
Newton’s 3rd Law tells it all
Surely you will have fruits tall
Keep calm and march past
To reach all thy goals vast..!
(This is the counsel you gave me
I am following patiently..!!)
To my Goddess
Awesome work of Jai Sri Ram
He rocks in a way so calm
The graphics provided by him
Are just like ‘spatial’ hymn
Proud of you to have such a sonny
Beauteous blithe and bonny
What a way to present the art
He is an artist excellence par
May he scale all heights anew
With grace on artistic avenue
I bless him from bottom of heart
May Lord spread his divine art
‘Jolly Artistic Intelligent
Supreme Royal Intellectual Robust and Maverick..!!’
To mommee 2
You’re at your best
When you’re in thy mom’s nest
Glow on face just increases
Charm on thy cheeks oozes
Tons of radiance dance through eyes
Even evening sun just vies
Glad to have been introduced
In thy family exalted
My joy knows no bounds
When Maha and Meena make rounds
Twin delights you enjoy
In thy yard with many a toy
Serenely surrounded by trees
Your house in TaaraMatipet breeze..!!
To mommee 2
Wow..! How gorgeous is thy green glow..!
As if you are a belle from Glasgow
Ethnicity is thy new flavour
During festivity with fervour
Even gold feels blush
When you walkingly rush
Under the flora the Goddess stands
My pen runs with words in mounds
Jaw dropping is thy grace quotient
Amazingly stunning is your gaze valiant
Rarest diamonds yearn to grace
On thee o my Lord Goddess
Perfect blend of brains and beauty
Always rock in emerald gritty..!!
Sri Lal
Crows
i.
I come from nowhere,
and I have nowhere to go,
I tell the crow perched
on a low neem branch
beyond the Periyar River.
He agrees.
He and I are free.
We speak the same language.
You know who I mean. He eats
the garbage you and I toss aside—
the endless sacks of rubbish
hauled down to be burnt
at the water’s edge,
like a secret in the dark.
ii.
I have seen smoke plume
like the crown of peacock
feathers my blue love wears.
Garbage burns beside the river,
but I dream that he woos me
with white champa bloom.
His hands are like the water
on my skin.
Still, some nights,
the fire of rag and bone rises
so that even the crow
cannot sing for the smoke.
Some nights, the blaze
chafes my throat,
and swallows the sky whole.
Some nights of jasmine bloom
and sweet rice, I am
mute in the face of love.
iii.
So many crows, some say—
the erratic caw,
and I remember cities far north,
where monkeys climb the temple walls.
They swing and chatter
like a mind that longs
for enough gold to buy
an unbruised freedom,
like flesh and bone that hunger
for a gentle touch in the night.
Wherever we are,
some cry carries us
away from ourselves—
the voice of a crow,
an unquiet mind,
the cremation ground
where a father’s beatings
go up in smoke,
or the bronze tongue of the temple bell
that calls good souls to prayer.
iv.
This saffron hour before dusk,
a small silver mallet tunes the tabla—
knocking dowels up and down.
Soon, bhajan will rise
beyond the firepit
beyond the wisping smoke
of jasmine and sandalwood.
I have not yet washed
clean from hauling garbage.
I stand beyond
the stone-pillared hall,
by the big tub sink,
run cold water across my arms.
A crow alone sees me,
in a way most men do not
see the lesser sex.
We are outsiders, he and I.
His call is full of longing,
and I answer back
beyond the liturgy of temple rite,
the cry from my own throat
a song he understands,
my small mouth open
like red lotus before dark.
Published in Doubly Mad
Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;
I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;
An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!
No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!
"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."
This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born -
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!
~Love letters to the sub continent
contest by cyndi MacMillan