The charm of conversion
The ditches merged with the river
And happily lost their identity.
The river itself turning dirty,
The rivulets stop joining it.
[The lowered Hindus converted to Christians to lose their castes long ago.
So others stopped converting to Christianity, not to get lowered ]
06.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Goodbye To A River
(don henley/stan lynch/jai winding/frank simes)
The rains have come early, they say
Were all gonna wash away
Well, thats all right with me
If heavens torrent can wash clean
The arrogance that lies unseen
In the damage done since we have gone
Where we ought not to be
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Lakes and levees, dams and locks
They put that river in a box
It was running wild
And men must have control
We live our lives in starts and fits
We lose our wonder bit by bit
We condescend and in the end
We lose our very souls
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
The dirty water washes down
Poisoning the common ground
Taking sins of farm and town
And bearing them away
The captains of industry
And their tools on the hill
Theyre killing everything divine
What will I tell this child of mine
(solo)
I make a church out of words
As the years dull my senses
And I try to hold on to the world that I knew
I struggle to cross generational fences
And the beauty that still remains
I can touch it through you
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
Roll on
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hindus are not Vedic.
The Vedic concept is the Hindutva,
We are led and made to believe.
See the Gods the Hindus worship.
Most of them are not Vedic Gods.
See their custom and practice.
They did not originate from Veda.
Muslims and Christians converted
The people in India.
Aryans converted the gods of tribes.
Tribes followed their gods
To be sheltered in the Hinduism.
Hindus are not out and out Vedic.
But still Aryan Brahmins are their cowherd.
14.03.2001, Pomdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bar Has Been Raised Much Too High
There is a standard set,
In the best of an idealistic premise...
To keep as a measure,
That checks one's advancement.
But expectations lowered,
Will eventually affect...
Those once kept high standards.
Slipping to catch the absence of discipline.
And with a mediocrity achieved...
To come alter the notion of ambition,
A proclamation introduce will claim...
The bar has been raised much too high.
Especially for those...
Seeking their need for attention,
And remedial assistance.
With no guarantee for achievement.
'The bar...
It has been raised again,
And much too high!
It must be lowered.
It must be lowered.
Please follow intructions to lower,
Expectations.'
'The bar...
It has been raised again,
And much too high!
It must be lowered.
It must be lowered.
Please follow intructions to lower,
Expectations.'
This is declared from a robotic voice,
Programmed to monitor classroon activities.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River
The river I have under my tongue,
Unimaginable water, my little boat,
And curtains lowered, let's speak.
poem by Paul Eluard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Who Lowered 'This' Boom?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
There is a generation crying.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
There are so many people sighing.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Didn't we pay when we prayed with preachers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Didn't we say we were through with leechers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.
And these are the days...
So ripe for change.
And those who are amazed,
Can't believe the craze.
And the masses who are dazed!
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
There is a generation crying.
There are so many people sighing.
Didn't we pay when we prayed with preachers?
Didn't we say we were through with leechers?
And these are the days...
So ripe for change.
And those who are amazed,
Can't believe the craze.
And the masses who are dazed!
Who lowered 'this' boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Splattered by the fat cats packing.
And stabbed in the back by the facts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is Better Than A Warm Trombone
*love is better than a warm trombone, when blown, softly by a two tone, brother
*down on luck by chance, caress her head off at the boogaloo trance
With his hands in his pocket he could not lie
With his hands in his pocket he began to cry
With his hands in his pocket he lowered his eye
*he said miss I guess I ought to apologise, Ive been fallin, Im falling down
The river of your lovelorn souls is getting deeper than the deepest dish washing bowl
*now brother get the dirt off your hands, its getting darker than a sun-chasers the sun tan
With his hands in his pockethe could not lie
With his hands in his pockethe began to cry
With his hands in his pockethe lowered his eyes
*he said miss, I guess I ought to apologise, Ive been fallin, Im falling down
With his hands in his pockethe began to cry
With his hands in his pockethe could not lie
With his hands in his pockethe lowered his eyes
*he said miss, I guess I ought to apologise, Ive been fallin, Im falling down
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyebrows
He raised his eyebrows once
to ask about my daughter,
lowered them again
to ask about my son,
raised them one more time
to beg a kiss and cuddle
then lowered them again
when I told him where to go.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roll down, Long River (song)
Roll down, Long, Long River to the sea,
Call me, Long, Long River where I should be.
Sing me a lullaby
How to live and die.
Lark's song in the sky
Lets me survive…
Bring your mud mad waters to the East.
Are you tired, Long River, of the heartless lucky beasts?
Lonely tears and cries,
Cruel lies and crimes
You submerge as well,
You'll never tell…
Roll down, Long, Long River to the sea…
Call me, Long, Long River where I should be…
Roll down, Long, Long River…
Roll down, Long, Long River…
To the East…
poem by Galina Struchalina
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Mother Penchallamma
Bursting the banks of the rain-fed tanks,
the swirling flood was swelling
the river Kundu in Cuddappah,
on twenty fourth August two thousand.
Carrying her two sons on her shoulders,
Penchallamma dared to cross the river,
in chest-deep strong current
to reach safe the other side,
as her house was engulfed
to be washed away soon.
The Collector from a helicopter
lowered down a plastic bucket,
to lift her up with her children.
Alas! Her seven year old boy
while climbing up into the bucket,
slipped and slumped into the river
and was swept away before her eyes!
Controlling her shock and grief,
She made her next attempt
to get into the swaying bucket.
But fate snatched her infant son
from her shivering hands
and dropped into the furious river.
She cursed the heavens and cried aloud,
pushed aside the bucket
and sank into the surging river.
God Himself can’t compensate her loss!
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Spring On The River
O sun, shine hot on the river;
For the ice is turning an ashen hue,
And the still bright water is looking through,
And the myriad streams are greeting you
With a ballad of life to the giver,
From forest and field and sunny town,
Meeting and running and tripping down,
With laughter and song to the river.
Oh! the din on the boats by the river;
The barges are ringing while day avails,
With sound of hewing and hammering nails,
Planing and painting and swinging pails,
All day in their shrill endeavor;
For the waters brim over their wintry cup,
And the grinding ice is breaking up,
And we must away down the river.
Oh! the hum and the toil of the river;
The ridge of the rapid sprays and skips:
Loud and low by the water's lips,
Tearing the wet pines into strips,
The saw mill is moaning ever.
The little grey sparrow skips and calls
On the rocks in the rain of the water falls,
And the logs are adrift in the river.
Oh! restlessly whirls the river;
The rivulets run and the cataract drones:
The spiders are flitting over the stones:
Summer winds float and the cedar moans;
And the eddies gleam and quiver.
O sun; shine hot, shine long and abide
In the glory and power of the summer tide
On the swift longing face of the river.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Well and river, inequitable.
A bath in a river is soothing to your skin.
But the river cannot replace the well.
From well water, you sooth your throat.
So the well has no reason to fear the river.
The one who swims in a river
Returns home with renewed vigour.
His desire to swim in the river
Is not his hate to draw from the well.
No grace will the well lose
Because his master visited the river.
No shame does the river has
Because her visitor is not her master.
One will not desert one’s wife
Because the one courted a tart.
24.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Our Magical River
At the break of dawn we took a stroll
along the river of tears
It was a wild river, with a glittering current
To take away your fears
The river seems such a magical thing
With the forest set in it's front
Silver streams painted with variable flowers
It was like finding the treasure in a treasure hunt
As we walked beside the flowing river
It's ripples beckoned to us
Sparkling and shining, calling our names
With the sound of lust
Every river has it's beginning
But this one had no end
Merging together like long lost loves
as you come around the rivers bend
We stopped and stood
and stared in awe
At the beauty of the merging rivers
And the love for which we saw
Dianna Nally
and Debbie Wagoner
7/14/09
poem by Dianna Nally
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River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I Love That Dirty Water! (The Standells)
The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'
Eve of Destruction-- Barry McGuire
The Standells sang about the dirty water in the Charles River in Boston
Well I love that dirty water
Oh, Boston you're my home
Oh, you're the number one place
(1966)
(This observation is not about a soulful, cut time, melodious affirmation about the singer's affinity to polluted water in Massachusetts. However, it is about a river who Christians, Jews and Muslims hold very dear in their hearts.)
Well maybe the Jordan River is not a aqueous cemetery
But if you drink the water,
even touch the water- let alone be baptized,
You could be in trouble,
the water is polluted,
That should make you leery
It appears that the population is going up
And the water level is going down,
In that geographical region
Many turds of goats
or donkeys
or humans are washed away by rain
or by flushing*
-eventually ends in Jordan River
Not to mention the pesticides and fertilizer
That should makes you quiver.
St. John, if you were alive today,
Then you would not make it though a year**
Baptizing people in the Jordan River
Instead people being baptized in Jordan River water
They should possibly get baptized in more purer fluid,
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Ocean of Purity Vavroovahana Patra
Beautiful Mahanadee flows with gaiety;
In all creatures plays waves of delight.
The vast river mingles in the Ocean;
She magnifies the beauty of creation.
All creatures quench thirst drinking water;
Bathing in the river derive purity, pleasure.
The river smiles in the lap of Nature;
Attracts all creatures, pure for ever.
Hindus, Muslims, Christians bathe in the same water;
All are sisters and brothers.
She penetrates rays of purity in all people of Earth;
The lovely river is an Ocean of mirth.
Sun beam kisses the river, magnifies her beauty;
Her lap is a perennial brook of delight.
Lovers enjoy on the cosy sandy lap of rivers;
Solitude, peace, love reigns for ever.
Poets depict poems, derive inspiration;
She is a fairy, Beauty of God’s creation.
Weary travellers rest a while for peace and pleasure.
The lovely bride contents their desire.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Freeze Love
You went away without glance
You went away uttering no word
Shall we meet again or it was last?
Without seeing you how could I pass days?
Eyes are becoming river thinking you
Sky is on the ladder of sorrow, because of your love
Unfathomable water in river departs room on bank
If sky is clouded over it must be rain some where
When high tidal pain in sea what to happen of puzzled sailor?
Because of love when you lose all you become lost Simon
Our love is like river
Love at white snow of Himalaya
Love over flowing the Padma- the Meghna river
As the sea is whereabouts of river’s love-
Love of river mixes at out let of sea
Packing in envelop love of snow is send
Our love is like river
You went away without glance
Do not leave in this manner o loveliness
Defiled air at heart causes the love freeze.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Dry River Bed
The river- was, but died away,
leaving behind sand and stone,
a dry river bed.
The river that once led the way,
To Rameses throne,
Has no more life- dead.
The river from which reeds grew and swayed,
now dead and gone,
all that's left-a dry river bed.
The river that was marvelous by day,
and treacherous once the sun was gone,
is now but a dri river bed.
The river- beautiful, no words could say,
left behind - just a dry river bed.
poem by Esnala Banda
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