Lord Of Tirunelveli
Sing Him praises
So does He bless us
Up from Kailas
Shiva here with spouse
Twin templed city
Wafting energy of Almighty
Tirunelveli a place of piety
Bearing a puranic antiquity
Vedabhatta a staunch devotee
Commanded by Shiva his beloved deity
Stayed in Thaamiraparani's tranquility
With his daily poojas on duty
Fate, in short struck famine
Poor devotee fell on beggary line
Yet everything per wish divine
For Vedabhatta only a good sign
Struggling though a lot
With prayers in heart
Vedabhatta very much devout
Begged for paddy regret without
So such sun-dried a morn the paddy
Bathed after in the river speedy
Prayed well for rains then needy
Surprise, rained atonce much a remedy
Mulled over the drying paddy
Hastened to check if hardy
Blessed, found he there unwet paddy
Realised the holy mercy of Shiva dandy
That supreme power alone
Hedged the paddy zone
Then since came to be known
Tirunelveli(sacred-hedged-paddy) well known
Swayambulinga, self-manifested in bamboo grove
To that Venuvaneshwar whom people drove
Agasthya and Rama that once did adore
Now named Nellaiappar; Resonable lore
Temples of Nellaiappar and Kaanthimathi
In the precincts with exquisite beauty
Sprawling magnificent sculptural artistry
Add elegance to Nellai i.e Tirunelveli
Copper-hall(Thaamira sabha) of dance
On the day of Arudra, star of Betelgeuse
As Lord Nataraja dances
Holds me closer to the divine grace
One among the many in peace
Folks, join in here for His holy brace
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Paddy Magee
What are you doing now, Paddy Magee?
Grafting, or spelling now, Paddy Magee?
Breaking, or branding?
Or overlanding,
Out on the sand ridges, Paddy Magee?
Is your mouth parched, from an all-night spree?
Taking a pick-me-up, Paddy Magee?
Cocktail - or simple soda and b.? -
Which is the 'antidote,' Paddy Magee?
Still 'shook' on some beautiful, blushing she?
Girl in the Bogan side, Paddy Magee?
A hack providing
For moonlight riding,
Side-saddle foolery, Paddy Magee?
Up on the station - or in the town -
Or on the Warrego, droving down,
Whatever you're doing - wherever you be!
'There's lashin's o' luck to ye!' Paddy Magee!
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mr Paddy's Capers.
Just when she thought
She'd found a place alone
To read her book, Mr Paddy
poked his nose between
Her and the open book, so
That pages are blanked out
By his huge head. Mr Paddy
Go off and annoy another,
She said, but he stood there
Determined to be where he
Was, between her and the
Brown covered book, held
Out in her small hands. Oh
Mr Paddy I cannot see the
Pages. Please go off and run
In the garden or in the kitchen
And steal a bone, she said. But
He wouldn't leave her alone,
He pushed his head against her
Young girl body, his damp nose
Dampening her wrist and her
White dress with blue sash, and
Dribble from his lips was wetting
The pages. Mr Paddy please let
Me be, I'm trying to read can't
You see? Mr Paddy's brown eyes
Scanned the pages, nothing there
But scribbled lines upon white paper,
And still he stood wet mouthed with
Big brown eyes and his silly old caper.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paddy Malone In Australia
Och! my name's Pat Malone, and I'm from Tipperary.
Sure, I don't know it now I'm so bothered, Ohone!
And the gals that I danced with, light-hearted and airy,
It's scarcely they'd notice poor Paddy Malone.
'Tis twelve months or more since our ship she cast anchor
In happy Australia, the Emigrant's home,
And from that day to this there's been nothing but canker,
And grafe and vexation for Paddy Malone.
Oh, Paddy Malone! Oh, Paddy, Ohone!
Bad luck to the agent that coaxed ye to roam.
Wid a man called a squatter I soon got a place, sure,
He'd a beard like a goat, and such whiskers, Ohone!
And he said—as he peeped through the hair on his faitures
That he liked the appearance of Paddy Malone.
Wid him I agreed to go up to his station,
Saying abroad in the bush you'll find yourself at home.
I liked his proposal, and 'out hesitation
Signed my name wid a X that spelt Paddy Malone.
Oh, Paddy Malone, you're no scholard, Ohone!
Sure, I made a cris-crass that spelt Paddy Malone.
A-herding my sheep in the bush, as they call it
It was no bush at all, but a mighty great wood,
Wid all the big trees that were small bushes one time,
A long time ago, faith I 'spose 'fore the flood.
To find out this big bush one day I went further,
The trees grew so thick that I couldn't, Ohone!
I tried to go back then, but that I found harder,
And bothered and lost was poor Paddy Malone.
Oh, Paddy Malone, through the bush he did roam
What a Babe in the Wood was poor Paddy Malone.
I was soon overcome, sure, wid grafe and vexation,
And camped, you must know, by the side of a log;
I was found the next day by a man from the station,
For I coo-ey'd and roared like a bull in a bog.
The man said to me, "Arrah, Pat! where's the sheep now?"
Says I, "I dunno! barring one here at home,"
And the master began and kicked up a big row too,
And swore he'd stop the wages of Paddy Malone.
Arrah! Paddy Malone, you're no shepherd, Ohone!
We'll try you with bullocks now, Paddy Malone.
To see me dressed out with my team and my dray too,
Wid a whip like a flail and such gaiters, Ohone!
But the bullocks, as they eyed me, they seemed for to say too,
"You may do your best, Paddy, we're blest if we go."
"Gee whoa! Redman! come hither, Damper!
Hoot, Magpie! Gee, Blackbird! Come hither,
Whalebone!"
But the brutes turned round sharp, and away they did scamper,
And heels over head turned poor Paddy Malone.
Oh, Paddy Malone! you've seen some bulls at home,
But the bulls of Australia cows Paddy Malone.
I was found the next day where the brutes they did throw me
By a man passing by, upon hearing me groan,
And wiping the mud from my face that he knew me,
Says he, "Your name's Paddy?" "Yes! Paddy Malone."
I thin says to him, "You're an angel sent down, sure!"
"No, faith, but I'm not; but a friend of your own!"
And by his persuasion, for home then I started,
And you now see before you poor Paddy Malone.
Arrah, Paddy Malone! you are now safe at home.
Bad luck to the agent that coaxed ye to roam.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paddy Smell
Nostrils are the steps to soul.
Paddy farm, just reaped, smells.
Same old unique smells
Climb up the attic of soul.
Full soul shines in silver
Above the leaves tide.
Footfalls of cat eyed maid
With a pot on her shoulder.
On embankment in field,
Her anklet resonates.
Old untouched love beats,
Then my soul gets wild.
At dawn smelling paddy,
Old white skirt flutters
Below black blouse hers:
Truly soul smells paddy.
poem by Fabiyas M V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hearts Filthy Lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Theres always the diamond friendly
Sitting in the laugh hotel
The hearts filthy lesson
With her hundred miles to hell
Oh, ramona, if there was only something between us
If there was only something between us
Other than our clothes
Something in our skies
Something in our skies
Something in our blood
Something in our skies
Paddy
Paddy, whos been wearing mirandas clothes?
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Falls upon deaf ears
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Falls upon deaf ears
Falls upon dead years
Oh ramona, if there was only some kind of future
Oh ramona, if there was only some kind of future
And these cerulean skies
Something in our skies
Something in our skies
Something in our blood
Something in our skies
Paddy, paddy?
Paddy will you carry me, I think Ive lost my way
Im already five years older Im already in my grave
Im already
Im already
Im already
Will you carry me?
Oh paddy, I think Ive lost my way
Paddy
What a fantastic death abyss
Paddy
What a fantastic death abyss
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Tell the others
Its the hearts filthy lesson
What a fantastic death abyss
Tell the others
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Paddy
What a fantastic death abyss
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Tell the other
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Unseen Companions of the journey!
Hi everyone
I received this from Fay Slimm today concerning the death of our good friend Mary Martin. Please do go to the site and light a candle for dear Chrissy.
Thank you,
Patrick
I was shocked!
Mary Martin, your sad demise!
O it's really unbearable?
Paddy sent me two books before he leaves
And then you sent me his two photographs
Before you leave, how do I get things of Paddy now?
I realized life's a journey and not a race!
Tomorrow I am passing the 60th mile post
On my way to your new domicile!
We're in one family of this ridiculous segregated World!
May you rest in peace beside my friend Paddy and your best friend too,
Along this unending journey!
* I asked my beloved to light an additional candle tomorrow on my sad birthday cake and that's for you Mary!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Golden Boat
Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.
One small paddy-field, no one but me -
Flood-waters twisting and swirling everywhere.
Trees on the far bank; smear shadows like ink
On a village painted on deep morning grey.
On this side a paddy-field, no one but me.
Who is this, steering close to the shore
Singing? I feel that she is someone I know.
The sails are filled wide, she gazes ahead,
Waves break helplessly against the boat each side.
I watch and feel I have seen her face before.
Oh to what foreign land do you sail?
Come to the bank and moor your boat for a while.
Go where you want to, give where you care to,
But come to the bank a moment, show your smile -
Take away my golden paddy when you sail.
Take it, take as much as you can load.
Is there more? No, none, I have put it aboard.
My intense labour here by the river -
I have parted with it all, layer upon layer;
Now take me as well, be kind, take me aboard.
No room, no room, the boat is too small.
Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.
Across the rain-sky clouds heave to and fro,
On the bare river-bank, I remain alone -
What had has gone: the golden boat took all.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poor Paddy
[the pogues version]
-----------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-one
The corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
From hartlepool I moved to crewe
Found myself a job to do
A working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I broke the shovel across me knee
I went to work for the company
On the leeds to selby railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on the liverpool shore
My belly was empty me hands were raw
With working on the railway, the railway
Im sick to my guts of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When daniel oconnell he was alive
When daniel oconnell he was alive
And working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I changed my trade to carrying bricks
I changed my trade to carrying bricks
To work upon the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
The old bugger was thinking of going to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im sick to my death of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
[paddy works on the railway]
---------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-one
My corduroy breeches I put on
My corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
I didnt know what I should do
I didnt know what I should do
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I sailed away across the sea
I sailed away across the sea
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on columbias shore
I landed on columbias shore
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When daniel oconnell he was alive
When daniel oconnell he was alive
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I made my trade to carrying bricks
I made my trade to carrying bricks
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-eight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The dream of gifts!
She hugged me wholeheartedly
And gave me a bottle of Multi-Vitamins!
I kissed on her forehead and offered a second-hand book
From a junk shop.
'Kama Sutra! '
*For my shadowy friend Paddy Martin!
Here few Oxygen to you and I want to see your resurrection soon.
[ Go there, watch the Sun set over the land
You and I loved so intensely.
Taste the scent of Eucalypt
Carried on the evening breeze.]
'My Eternal Valentine'-Paddy Martin
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cosmic Dance - III
This attraction Shiva couldn’t resist
He wanted to have with it a tryst
Vrinda, who was managing the show
Denying entry to Shiva she said, ‘NO.’
Krishana there, no other male could go
Only ladies could be other part of show
Tempted to join by the irresistible desire
Shiva agreed for lady’s make up and attire.
She asked Shiva for a dip in Mansarovar
After dip He was in woman’s make over
In perfect woman’s dress so well veiled
In corner in Krishana consciousness sailed.
When the cosmic dance began
There were two great dance men
One, the Beloved of the Dance
Other, the King of dance in trance.
With every Gopi Krishana danced
Shiva in unique dance entranced
Inspite of the elegance of the dance
Krishana had some missing glance.
Out of the dance he had a pause
He said, “I feel violation of laws.”
He felt in the dance a missing bliss
He said, “Here another man exists.”
He said, “Lalita, go and check
If a man attired as Gopi on deck! ”
Lalita went round lifting the veils
But finding a man there she failed.
Puzzled about a Gopi three eyed
Lalita told what her surprised! ! !
Krishana said, “Bring her here.”
When saw Shiva had hearty cheer.
He said, “O Gopeshwar I am pleased.
When I see you as Gopi dressed
Your desire to partake in dance fulfilled
As Gate Keeper of the dance now you drill.
Upon you I shower my Grace
You will Gopis’ obeisance trace
They in turn my piety embrace.”
Still Shiva in Braj has Gopi face.
Then again the dance advanced
Gopis were in bliss and trance
Krishana with every Gopi in dance
That their dance in divine romance.
All base passions in the dance purge
All the Gopis in Krishana merged
Cosmos in the dance submerged
Cupid’s wings there didn’t splurge.
In Brij land since then till date
In Krishana consciousness they wait.
poem by C.P. Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paddy Murphy's Wake
The priest had been here earlier and the rosary was said
and relatives and friends in single file were offering condolences.
'Sorry for your troubles, ' one by one they said,
bending over Maggie Murphy, silent in her rocker,
a foot or so from Paddy, resplendent in his casket,
the two of them much closer now than they had ever been.
A silent guest of honor, Paddy now had nothing more to say,
waked in aspic, if you will, in front of his gothic fireplace.
But the hour was getting late and still the widow hadn't wept.
Her eyes were swept Saharas and the mourners wanted tears.
They had fields to plow come morning and they needed sleep
but the custom in County Kerry was
no one leaves a wake until the widow weeps.
Fair Maggie could have married any man in Kerry,
according to her mother, who almost every day reminded her of that.
'Maggie, ' she would say, 'you should have married Mickey.
His limp was not that bad, ' but Maggie wouldn't listen.
Instead, she married Paddy, 'that pestilence out walking'
as her mother often called him
even on a Sunday but only after Mass.
Maggie married Paddy the day he scored the only goal
the year that Kerry took the trophy back from Galway.
That goal was no small thing, Paddy would remind us all forever
until one of us would gag and buy him another drink.
That goal, he'd shout, was something historians would one day note,
even if they hadn't yet, and every time he'd mention it,
which was almost daily, Maggie's mother would remind her daughter
that she should have married Mickey and had a better life.
The final time her mother praised poor Mickey,
a screaming match ensued, so loud it woke the rooster
the day before her mother, feverish in bed,
gurgled like a frog and died.
This evening, though, as the wake wore on,
the mourners grew more weary
waiting for the tears the widow hadn't shed.
Restless in his folding chair, Mickey put his bottle down
and rose to give the eulogy it had taken days to memorize.
'Folks, ' he said, 'if all of us would holler down to Paddy now,
he'd holler back, I'm sure, and tell us,
despite the flames and all that smoke, that Kerry
winning over Galway is all that ever mattered, even now.
We'll always have cold Paddy over there to thank for that.'
The Widow Murphy hadn't moved all evening,
but after hearing Mickey speak, she began to rock with fury
as she raised a purple fist, shook it to the heavens
and then began to hum her favorite dirge.
The mourners all joined in and hummed along until
midnight pealed on the mantel clock and then,
as if released by God Himself, the mourners one by one
rose from folding chairs and left in single file, freed
by a hurricane of the Widow Murphy's tears.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A parcel from Overseas beyond the Great Barrier Reef!
As a habbit, firstly
I check the sender's name & address
Oh! It's from New South Wales
Australia, My dreamy burial grounds
To rest in peace with Aborigines!
Guess who sent the precious gift?
Brother Poet & Humanitarian
Paddy the Martin!
Two pocket size books
His poetry Anthologies.
'Poems that bloom in my garden
And The ancient Poet.'
I have not started yet the reading
But that smells a rare fragrance of a flower
In the garden of Eden!
Where the Humanity began!
Thank you is not enough
For the soft soul's honest smile
And I add this; 'Let us be friends
And smile together until we reach
The Horizon, Zenith or Infinity
Whatever it is promise to shake hand warmly!
* Humbly to my friend Paddy Martin in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paddy Casey
When Paddy Casey left the Clara road forever
The feeling was widespread he would be back
For he could never be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
Three times a week to Cork track he did journey
From Inchaleigh just out of Millstreet Town
Sometimes through Macroom and sometimes on the narrow high road
That winds along by Mushera up and down.
I doubt that he could feel happy in heaven
If he could not watch two greyhounds course a hare
In January at the Millstreet Coursing Meeting
In the Town Park I fancy he's still there.
He is one I still remember Paddy Casey
I knew him since I was a five year old
He was a cheerful and kindhearted fellow
And you well might say he had a 'heart of gold'.
I recall his renowned track bitch Rainbow Lady
Duhallow's fastest greyhound in her prime
At Cork track she won many open races
And bettered thirty seconds every time.
He had so many friends around Cork County
And the feeling was widespread he would be back
For Paddy could not be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature
MR VAVROOVAHANA PATRA, nabarangpur, odisha, India
NATURE
Grass is green; on it falls the sun-shine.
The peasant on the field with a plough looks thin.
The paddy plants look beautiful and green,
Goats graze in the field; they are nine.
A stream flows down with a muttering sound,
Attracts poets as drunkards to wine!
The mountain is bald but still looks beautiful;
The river water’s sound is tuneful.
Moon-beams kiss the paddy plant,
Fulfilling the desire of peasants and their wants.
God’s nature is mysteriously beautiful,
Deriving pleasure from it, farmers become dutiful.
THANK YOU
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Politics is about putting yourself in a state of grace.
quote by Paddy Ashdown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
People do not want politicians they know to be corrupt.
quote by Paddy Ashdown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Heart is Shiva's seat!
My heart is Shiva's seat
Shiva is my heart-beat
see my efforts success meet
I surrender to Shiva's feet
my enemies, Thrisool will beat
Shiva arranges my life neat
poem by Elangovan Selvapperumal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Child 44
Tom Hardy, Noomi Rapace, Gary Oldman, Joel Kinnaman, Charles Dance, Jason Clarke, Vincent Cassel, Sam Spruell, Paddy Considine, Tara Fitzgerald
by Richard Price from Child 44 (2015)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Domestic Shades-12
Wishing My Grand-Daughter-
Appears like risen from your lotus-nascence
Aurora's auspice
Bearing a clement presence
Sprawling incessant fulgence
Traversing by a sunny cycle along the days
With ardent love for Mother Earth
Appears like risen from your lotus-nascence
Sacred Shiva's cherubic Bala
Grown into a damsel of Tripura
To vanquish Bandasura beateous Lalitha
In valorous eloquence to conjoin Shiva
Meenakshi leering fledging love-arrows
Appears like risen from your lotus-nascence
Verdant Lakshmi pining for Vishnu
Firm in the lord's heart be seated to accrue
Sought His espousal reflects you
O' grand-daughter your divine puissant power
How I wonder sans any difference
O'Miss.Grandeur
Of your persona verdure
A scholar, benefactor I discover
And I wish you be so for ever
With all the mercy of the Supreme-Power
Wish you life through to cherish and prosper
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm a man without a corporation.
quote by Paddy Chayefsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!