The mass killer captured dead; but the offspring still alive
An unconfirmed report says the barbarian Mr.Velupillai Prabhakaran was captured,
Who was the most dangerous terrorist leader in the cruel World.
The poor citizen of Sri-Lanka are preparing for a grand scale Island-wide celebration to-day to commemorate the defeat of Tamil Terrorism.
Be alert dear friends! The Sinhala tiger leader is still alive who roams around the world now and also the foreign counterpart supply ingredients to the turmoil.
I heard that Norwegian uncles already sent a special plastic barrel to collect crocodile tears.
I suggest the funeral should take place in Great Britain, Norway or Canada?
*My sincere salutation to all Armed forces who gave their lives and the poor citizen of Tamils.May his disturbed soul rest in peace with the deceased former Prime minister of India Mrs.Indhira.Ghandi
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Tigers without stripes
A large striped animal of the cat family
the tiger, in Sri Lankan jungle you don't find.
There are only leopards with spots
and no stripes at all.
Let them call themselves tigers
we have no any objections
but we are worried only about their mass killings.
The late Indian Prime Minister Mrs. Indhira.Ghandhi
who 'breast-fed' these tiger cubs?
and when they grew up provided part of her own nation
to train them how to hold a gun.
It backfired and she lost her pilot son
the Prime Minister Mr. Rajiv.Ghandhi
killed by her 'foster' sons.
Even an infant of this world knows this sad tale
but unfortunately 'Norwegian uncles' still shed crocodile tears
for these untamed animals.
Dedication to Mr.Hans.Brattskar, Mr. Erik.Solheim, Mr.Lars.Johan.Solvberg, Mr.Ranil.Wickramasinghe & et cetera.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Merciful Hand of America
Sad are the hearts which watched in calm
when the surrendered and the bravely stood tigers,
the civilian Tamils of Eelam of SriLanka
were maimed, butchered and raped
by a lawless army, with the cannons
of some cannibalistic Asian nations.
Silent are the tears that fall
from the blind eyes of the UNO,
which had been in deep slumber for a year,
when the Tamils were treated inhumanly in fenced camps.
It is now waking up to browse the dusty CDs back.
Remorseful is the mind of British,
a sinner who gave the uncut fruit of freedom,
to the majority, Buddhist Sinhalese to rule,
but in the case of India, the land was rent into two.
Shocked is the cosmopolitan brain of America,
whose hand crushed terror and cremated the dictators,
for democracies to bloom, but remained dumb to surprise all,
when the wombs which gave birth to tigers were bombed
and the hands -tied naked rebels were shot and killed
and the war-field was scattered with molested corpses.
Grief-stricken are the Great, great grand dads and mums
of Tamil Nadu, who were unable to stop the supply of Indian arms.
The Indian government took revenge upon the entire Tamils,
for the alleged killing of her leader by the tigers.
Mournful are the souls of the beloved parents and uncles,
In Canada, Malasyia, Aussie and African lands.
Solemn are the faces of Pakistan and China
for their weapons used for the ethnic cleansing.
They would reap what they sowed in history.
The occupiers of the lands of other nations
don't feel the pulse of the freedom fighters.
The funeral mass for the late Tamils will be held
in the cosmological chapel in Lemuria
and the ashes will be committed to the Indian ocean.
Your battle for freedom is over; we're missing you greatly.
Your thirst for liberty still remains in our hearts.
Rest in peace in the ocean where our forefathers were deluged.
We fondly remember and adore your courage.
The merciful hand of America will render justice.
Till then your memories will not leave us to sleep.
---
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The unsmiling man whose eyes seem fixed somewhere in the jungle
The elephants, Lions, Tigers
Monkeys, Donkeys and Reptiles
All were stuck in a continuing ethnic war tarnishes the pearl of the Indian Ocean.
Sri-Lanka means 'Blessed Island' in Sinhala,
And its best it has been an enlightened, Multiethnic Democracy, an India without crushing social problems.
Guerrillas who demand a separate state for Tamils and the Army has launched a major offensive against them.
The ratio of the literacy rate goes high up to 90%
But there won't be a solution unless a new Buddha must re-born in the state of Tamil Nadu in India.
* An open invitation to Mr.Velupillai Prabahkaren (Hidden somewhere in the jungle) for a permanent peaceful solution to this tragedy.
Postscript
European invaders exploited Ceylon as it was known until 1972, for its deep ports, spices and gems; The Portuguese came in the early 16th century, The Dutch in the 17th and The British in the late 18th, then worst came to worst..............................?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Tamil New Year Day,2009
Today is ‘Tamil New Year Day’ –
A day of joy and happiness,
That fills the hearts of Tamilians,
Wherever they may be, they say!
Let Tamil foster friendship, love;
Let Tamil ignite hearts and minds;
Let Tamil bring new hope to all;
Let Tamil thrive and fill the world!
Let Tamil serve not to divide;
Let Tamil bond only unite;
Let Tamil grow in leaps and bounds;
Let Tamil live to make all live!
Let wars all cease and peace prevail;
Let love of brethren become prime;
Let Tamils live with dignity;
Let Tamil rule the world some day!
Fondly dedicated to Tamilians all over the world!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-14-2009
poem by John Celes
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Model Citizen
Be an Arab
Be a Jew
Be a boxing
Kangaroo
Beat yourself
All black and blue
I don't care
Be a bleeder
Be a Cancer
A hemophiliac
Romancer
Be a crippled disco
Dancer
Oooh... What a pair
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled them again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
And a master of disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American!!!
I'm a hostage
In a city of creeps
They've got mercenary guards
That watch me sleep
They'd like to kill me slow
Bury me deep
In the heart of Texas
I'm a martyr
I'm a sadist
I might be the Saviour here to save us
I'm a friend of Sammy Davis, casually
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
I won't let down my disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Government To Be Fair!
for any government to be fair,
every citizen has to be
just as important as every other.
every citizen has to have equal rights,
whether black or white,
rich or poor, gay or straight.
whether they believe in the same god,
in another, or in none.
whether they speak english,
or another language.
whether they are educated,
or not!
every citizen has to have an equal chance,
for employment, for education,
for housing, for love and happiness.
and every citizen has to respect,
both himself, and others...
this government should be
a government by the people...
any leader should be from among the people.
government, small in tether,
large in affirmation!
we're not anywhere close to this in America!
we have been sold out by our own greed,
and have chosen in our apathy to follow the lie.
now it's come to a head!
what we do next determines if democracy works.
what we do next defines our level of humanity.
call it democracy, call it socialism,
it doesnt matter what you call it.
what it has to be is redemption...
what it has to bring, is freedom!
finally!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Novel cause
India has tasted defeat
And got early exit
From the World Cup Cricket.
Who is the cause- a heated discussion?
‘Players, the captain, the coach,
The selectors, the club’s president
The minister for sport, ’ critics said.
One said it is Indhira Gandhi,
Who had died long ago
As it was she who made Bangladesh,
At whose team India had lost.
23.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Gandhihood....
You gave us a simple man, full of kindness
humblest and with godly bless
not a lord
owning his own soul like power
you like us, we poorest of poor
the real Indians..........
we like you Bapu, you only know us....
(they not know us... we are really Indians..)
the father of poorest of poor
the light still delight us...Bapu.....
and then we have many 'gandhees'
but the Indira we loved her
a worthy heir of a ablest leader
Blooded to the battle
Born to for fight
Sowed the pride in our soul nation
Not to thrill of the fight
To die for a cause
Honour and the great glory
To win without a great life
lived for India.......
the great Rajiv...
the' new' India wants glory.....
he made a new vision for this nation
and Sonia the mother....
without a power
but all these great sacrificing.....
poem by Thampi KEE
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a new Gandhihood
You gave us a simple man, full of kindness
humblest and with godly bless
not a lord
owning his own soul like power
you like us, we poorest of poor
the real Indians..........
we like you Bapu, you only know us....
(they not know us... we are really Indians..)
the father of poorest of poor
the light still delight us...Bapu.....
and then we have many 'gandhees'
but the Indira we loved her
a worthy heir of a ablest leader
Blooded to the battle
Born to for fight
Sowed the pride in our soul nation
Not to thrill of the fight
To die for a cause
Honour and the great glory
To win without a great life
lived for India.......
the great Rajiv...
the' new' India wants glory.....
he made a new vision for this nation
and Sonia the mother....
without a power
but all these great sacrificing.....
poem by Thampi KEE
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Aadhar card
O poor bird
Take your Aadhar card
Go to Vote-yard.
O poor citizen
Take your ATM
Go to collect money.
Keep yourself silent
No violent
And you know
We are not tolerant.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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You're The Captain
I'd crawl a mile,
I'd climb the highest hill.
To bring you back to
A life that's real
You burned your mind out,
With your foolish games
May you lie there helpless,
Will you ever be the same.
You're the captain,
The leader of your ship.
Don't get captured (captured),
Cause you just might never quit.
You're the captain,
I hope you realize,
Don't be a fool,
Better open up your eyes.
I've traveled this world,
I've seen most of it.
I've seen the best ones
Go down with the ship.
Fortune and fame,
They don't mean a thing.
When you're hooked on junk,
That's your only game.
You're the captain,
The leader of your ship.
Don't get captured (captured),
Cause you just might never quit.
You're the captain,
I hope you realize,
Don't be a fool,
Better open up your eyes.
Just a part of life,
That we all must go through.
Gettin' high with friends,
Was all in being cool.
Hope you never see, this misery.
A prisoner by drugs
With no right to be free.
You're the captain,
The leader of your ship.
Don't get captured (captured),
Cause you just might never quit.
You're the captain,
I hope you realize,
Don't be a fool,
Better open up your eyes.
You're the captain,
The leader of your ship.
Don't get captured (captured),
Cause you just might never quit.
You're the captain,
I hope you realize,
Don't be a fool,
Better open up your eyes.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Will Find Poverty
You will find poverty in the U S and Great Britain, in France and in Japan,
In Canada and in Australia, New Zealand as well as Iran
In South America and Europe, Africa and all through Asia as well
Throughout the Human World some in their Earthly Hell
In the past decade millions of people of hunger have died
As the gap between the haves and the have nots grow wide
In the World's wealthiest Countries homeless people not rare
So many poor people for every millionaire
And the social divide growing wider by the day
And that the poor are growing poorer does seem sad to say
In The Human World poverty of varying degrees
In the refugee camps millions of refugees
And poverty not a stranger anywhere
So many poor souls in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cricket World Bows Before Sachin, India Bows Before Bangladesh
The much awaited century
Of this centuary fructified at last
When Sachin flicked a ball
On the leg side
And ran, nay walked, his
Hundredth run again Bangladesh for the first time
The celebration knew no bounds
The President and the Prime Minister of India
Are among those who joined
The cricket world to congratulate
Sachin on this feat
But, as an Indian
I felt it was a let down
For Team India
As it suffered a defeat
At the hands of an opponent
Who are a reasonably new entry
Into International Cricket
Many would get angry with me
When I say
That Sachin's hundredth hundred was
Only responsible for this defeat
He might have played well
But, definite he played very slow
Probably, keeping in mind
The much talked about century of his
It was not an one dayer he played
He was inching and inching towards his century
He, definitely, performed a feat
But paved way, in the process a defeat
True, cricketing world has reasons
To applaude him
But, Team India has stronger reasons
To fault him
Sachin blasted, really? , his century
And Bangladesh blasted India
It was Sachin's gain
It was Team India's pain
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Veto-powered Membership in UNO
Some bigoted leaders heading some nations
sent shipments of arms to kill civilian Tamils
in the war-torn SriLanka ruled by inhuman Buddhists.
The Tamils are locked in a three-decades-war
with the brutal Sinhalese to free their Eelam soil.
Lakhs of Tamils were bombed en masse, and burnt alive.
Sites of mass-burials are strewn with corpses over.
The women and girls were raped, butchered and left to rot.
The Tibet-occupier China has supplied a chemical to Lanka
to hasten the decay of the fossils of the dead.
What is done in Tibet to capture the land
was carried out in a short time in Lanka.
Does Buddha, the God of the poor-folk, revel to see,
one-lakh war-widows in the Eelam land of Tamils?
Is the veto-powered membership of China in UNO
to annihilate the weaker races and nations?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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A true Of universal
Some budy
Told
I am india...N...
S ome budy told...
Some time i am indian...
On school
Prayer time time told
I am indian...
But...
I did not feel
Indian...
India is
my birth place
ok...
But...
I am not a indian...
Why...?
I am...
I did not write hindhi...
I am Live in tamil nadu state
My mother also speak in tamil...
Sourindings peopls all are
Speak tamil...
So...
I am not a indian...
It is very poor word for me...
I am tamilan...
It is ok...
For me...
But...
This think also
Not good...
I am a one of world city zen...
That always unversel true...
Thats i want...
Thats i love and like...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Dear Prime Minister
You are head of ministers as prime minister
But at home only an individual as mister
So much loved by brothers, uncles and sisters
On this very special occasion, I sincerely offer
Happy birthday to you and thousand cheers
Wishing you many more happy coming years
As living in India has become costly and very dear
We have apprehensions on all fronts and deadly fear
We were poor earlier and nobody applied magic stick
We were lifting mud, sands, goods and bricks
We never had problem of food, cloths and shelter
But all of sudden it has made impact and scenario is altered
Not all people want to remain in shameful condition
“Poor and down trodden” pinches as an missile question
We are removed as poor with one stroke
No one had dreamed it to go in thick smoke
Our land is forcibly taken and turned into moles
Wide roads, heavy industries and light polls
Happy scenes all over with heavy cut backs and gain
We have nothing else but to bear the pain
You need no worry about our fate
You have seen it from roots very late
We are bound to suffer as you have no stick
We may die on the road and some one may come and pick
You are honest and sincere and sometimes calm figure
It may be hurting your conscience some times later
But alas! Power hunger is worst than our stomach hunger’
It may not allow you to smile in any stage of anger
You said once “you are compelled power politics”
You can’t take stern action or use the stick
In politics friends friend is considered an enemy
If you don’t practice it then whole of scene becomes stormy
You follow the principle of free economy
Have dialogue with neighbors and pacify the enemy
Beware! You will be dumped as good man
Will blame of inaction and turn you as villain
We are poor and agriculture state
Don’t try to be unreasonable and seal the fate
Economy or no economy, people should survive
Peace at home and front but honesty see and strive
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A tribute to M. Karunanithi
You stood for Tamil and for Tamils.
You did well for them a long while.
In you runs Tamil blood, not an Aryan’s.
You are who made Tamil to its throne.
You are who weeded Tamil clean.
Paradoxically you are out thrown.
Who can beat you in oratory skill?
You are a caste-less, religion-less jewel.
The one who weeded Tamil was weeded of Tamils.
The presence of mind is out of presence.
Once you were thrown for an intruder.
Now you are thrown for an invader.
You were not thrown for misdeeds.
You were thrown by caste and creed.
You were not shut for ineptitude.
Then why had you been an outright reject?
Sheep do not want a sheep as their master.
Slaves do not want a brethren as their master.
Sheep mind not the master slaughtering.
Slaves worry not the master plundering.
Both want a merciless hand to rule over,
In whom the slavery is bravery.
Tamils hail Tamil but not Tamils.
How can you expect their granary?
Emotion rides where the rational slides.
If a bone is given, the tail is shown.
It is sad that you were born a Tamil.
Tragic events with a happy end-
Happy events with a tragic end:
I weep you are slated as vagabond
Though you entail a peaceful end.
I suggest you denounce politics.
27.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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A Strange Cocktail
In their National flag they do take such great pride
And they feel superior with god on their side
And their leader he tells them of us against they
But when they fight his war from them he's far away.
And not different to their leader is the leader of they
And they too believe everything that he does say
About those they've never met or they never will know
We make our own enemy and we choose our own foe.
A terrorist is someone that society create
And racism and insults only give rise to hate
And terrorism as such is hard to define
Between all out war and suicide bombing where can one draw
the line.
Nationalism, Patriotism and Religion when these three you combine
They make for a strange cocktail like vodka, whiskey and wine,
They stir up strong feelings and hatred takes to flame
And resentment it leads them to great acts of shame.
On the flagpost in their front yard their National flag is waving in the wind
In the heart of the war-like the extreme patriot you'll find
And their dishonourable and cowardly leader who in war does not fight
The hatred for those different in them does ignite.
poem by Francis Duggan
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What Does It Take To Be A Leader
What does it take to be a leader you ask someone other than me
For in most in positions of power a hunger for power I do see
I speak in the tongue of a cynic yet would it not be fair to say
That one only becomes the Leader of a Country by being ambitious in a big way
Those who do need power in a big way are only out for their own fame
The Presidents never become Presidents without wishing for to make for themselves a name
Perhaps it is all about ego this great human lust for renown
A rare breed indeed quiet achievers though a few do live in every town
One never becomes Prime Minister or President of A Country without for the top job having the need
For surely one never does become a leader without desperately wanting to lead
'Tis tough at the top some will tell you but those at the top at the top fight to stay
The lust for power and success at it's greatest in the competitive Human World of today
So many look up to their leaders and the praises of their leaders do sing
But many with power do crave more power for power can be an addictive thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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