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Best Poems Written by Siddharth Satheesan

Below are the all-time best Siddharth Satheesan poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Pongal: The Celebration of Agriculture

The sun ascends with golden rays,
Blessing the earth on winter days.
Fields of green now turn gold,
Stories of harvest joy unfold.
Oxens plough the ancient field,
The seeds is what the farmers wield.

The pot is placed, the milk rises,
Bubbling under open skies.
''Pongalo, Pongal!'' the voices sing,
Gratitude flows for all it brings.
Let Kotravai bless us with golden crops,
Let Mariamma bless us with falling raindrops.

Oh, Bhogi flame, burn so high,
Carry our prayers to an open sky.
May your warmth in every heart stay,
Guiding us toward a brighter day.
For Bhogi is more than a festival's art,
It's the fire of renewal in every heart.

Surya, the giver of life and light,
We honour you on this sacred night.
With pots that brim with milk and grain,
We chant your name our hearts refrain.
Surya Pongal, a celebration divine 
Of nature's bounty and gifts that shine.


From plowing the fields to guiding the cart,
These noble beasts play a sacred part.
Mattu Pongal, a time to say,
"Thank You" for the blessings every day.
On Mattu Pongal, Let our hearts unite,
In gratitude, pure and bright.

The sun above, the earth below,
Shine on us with love aglow.
Kaanum Pongal, a time to bless,
Our hearts, our homes and our success.
Together we stand, together we sing,
As the joy of Pongal continues to bring.


O Pongal, a festival of cheer,
A promise of bounty year by year.
With thanks we sow, with hope we reap.
In your warmth, out traditions we keep.
As rice hail down like snow in our palms,
Let the success be recognised by farms.



Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2024



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The Legacy of the Cholas

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.





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Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2025

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A Beast from a Forgotten Land

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.





Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2024

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Captain Miller : The First Black Tiger

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.

Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2025

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Remembering Mullivaikkal

Beneath the palm trees, silence weeps,
Where fields of sorrow hold secrets deep.
Echoes linger, soft yet clear,
The cries of the people that the world wouldn't hear.
Tamils, the people who are proud and strong,
Their voices are lost in history's song.
The government let our history be in blunder,
So let them suffer by a strike of thunder.

In Mullivaikkal's shadowed shore,
Footsteps fade, return no more.
Innocence lost in fury of fire,
Dreams consumed, and hope to expire.
The cries of the people are unheard and unseen,
Echo-like shadows where peace had been.
Our expressions have been gloomy and blue,
As this gruesome genocide had been a taboo.

Children's laughter stilled by war,
Mothers and wives waiting by an empty door.
An ancient language, a culture so bright,
Bore to witness to the darkest night.
A resilient culture, where hearts bled,
In every grain, are the tears we shed.
Our tears pour down like a waterfall,
As we are under the government's horrific thrall.

Bullets and voices drowned,
Yet the heart of the people beat unbound.
In the ashes, stories breathe,
Of love, of loss, of grief.
A genocide veiled by silent vast,
Wounds that live in the echoes of the past.
A woman wails like a banshee,
To hope to find an end to this grievous genocide.

We remember forgetting is a sin,
The lives that ended, the truth within.
Justice calls from distant cries,
Where the spirit of the people never dies.
Their spirit, broken and defiant,
Bearing the truth like a roaring giant.
The place where the tigers used to rule,
Is now the place where we are used as mules.

Tamils endure; their spirit is strong,
In every tear in every song.
The world may turn its face away,
But the memories rise within the dawn each day.
For justice, for peace, let us strive,
To keep their memory, their spirit alive.
Oh, let a saviour be born to protect and serve,
So could you help us be in peace and preserve?






Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2024



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Vellupillai Prabahakaran: The True Tamil Tiger

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.

Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2025

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Amma

In the quiet of the black night, beneath the white moon's glow,
My mother stands like Durga, fierce yet gentle in flow.
With a crown of stars and a heart full of grace,
She embodies strength in every embrace.

Her eyes are the wisdom of the ages from the past,
A guardian of affection, steadfast and vast.
With arms that protect me like the Goddess Kali,
She shields us from harm, fierce yet so free.

Her voice is a mantra, soothing and pure,
In her presence, our troubles find solace a cure.
Like Saraswati's wisdom, she guides my way,
In the light of her knowledge, we learn and we sway.

Her singing is like music, like temple bell's chime,
Resonating with joy, transcending all the time.
In the warmth of her hugs, I find my home,
With her strong spirit, I am never alone.

Oh divine mother, with love you empower,
In every small gesture, you bloom like a pink blossom.
You are the essence of life, sacred and wise,
A reflection of a goddess, in your tender guise.

To my mother, she is divine and bright,
Embodiment of grace, my guiding light.
In every heartbeat, in every prayer I send,
I honour you amma, love with no end.

Copyright © Siddharth Satheesan | Year Posted 2025


Book: Reflection on the Important Things