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Varanasi

Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi
A revered shrine at bank of holy river Ganges.
Founded by God himself, Lord Shiva's adobe Kashi
Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi.
Bathing in Ganges purifies soul and remits the sin,
Dying in Kashi ensures, obtaining the final release.
Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi
A revered shrine at bank of holy river Ganges.

***
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven,
Ghat, temples and festivals, are icons of Varanasi.
Sacred river, sacred place; Hindu's great pilgrimage
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven.
The city has given birth to many great personalities
Great souls Tulsi, Kabir, Ravidas lived in varanasi.
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven
Ghat, temples and festivals, are icons of Varanasi.

***

Varanasi is the city, where Budhism was founded
Sarnath, Budhist's holy place, is too in Varanasi.
First sermon to his disciples Budha here sounded
Varanasi is the city where Budhism was founded.
Glorified by creation of great music and literature,
Classical folk culture, music, craft and philosophy.
Varanasi is the city where Budhism was founded
Sarnath, Budhist's holy place, is too in Varanasi.

***

Triolet form
(C) S. D. Tiwari

sdtiwari1(at) gmail(dot) com

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Varanasi

Amongst the filth
the sweet sound of the flute player
carries through the heated air
and everywhere,
down the Ghats
at sunrise,
the pilgrims gather
along the sacred river Ganges;
devoted to life,
birth and death.
Here in ancient Varanasi
against the backdropp of temples centuries old,
the soul of man
finds its own way home
amongst the filth.

poem by Diana Rosser
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Holy City

Holy City
We arrived here yesterday
Holy city
We sat foot here yesterday
Holy city
We felt in love with you already
Holy city
Is the city where our God was born
Holy city
Here we saw where God died in the cross with Pontius pilate
And risen from his death
Holy City
Today we end up in the Sea of Galilee
It is so good to breathe the fresh air from the Sea of Galilee
This sea is amazing
Holy city
This is a journey we will never forget in our lives
Holy city
Has been an interesting point in our lives
Holy city
Was a discovery of our roots

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Holy City

Midnight in the holy city
Playground for restless souls
Graveyards for the sons of ft. sumpter
And the ghostly daughters
Wait for their boys to come home
Moonlight in the holy city
So thick it warms the air
Burned my heart on a sweet southern flame
Like a hug from your mama saying it will be ok
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Sunrise in the holy city
The kings and queens shuffle by
Im born here of my own ashes
Just lay me down here when I die
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Ive seen visions
Lord Ive seen visions
Hanging in the summer sky
I fell in love, lost my heart
Laughed until I cried

song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Culture!

Culture is like a flowing river
it changes with time;

sometimes changes time too;

as sunlight, water, air and earth
change the seed into a sapling
plant, tree and also tree becomes dead wood;

Culture is the cultivated one
differently at different times;

There is no standard culture

We create, follow, recreate,
demolish, destroy culture
depending on our needs
and compulsions;

Culture is not stagnated water
It is a flowing river
And may become arid
Depending on our cultivation
Or negligence;

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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I Live In A City As Great

I LIVE IN A CITY/ AS GREAT

I live in a city
As great as holy as conflicted
As history itself
Many years have I lived here
And little have I written about it-
Much greater than me
Have written here Holy Books for mankind here-
Generations of Jews
Prayed to live here-
I have been blessed
The city will always be too great for me
But I hope to live here to the end of my life.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Jerusalem, Jerusalem How Glad

Jerusalem, Jerusalem how glad
am I in prayer to have stood;
in thee blessed city at remains
of thy second temple’s walls.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I sacred Via Dolorosa walked;
in remembrance atonement passed
stations of The Cross to have passed.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I who before entering sacred;
Garden of Gethsemane to view aged
olive trees was cast down humbled.

For Jesus in agony fear here sweated
blood in prayer to heaven to father God;
when last among these olives he stood
thus rejoice all bowed before our Lord.

In pilgrimage to Calvary where our Lord
for my sins humanities Christ was Crucified;
where a group of witnesses Marys stood
bewailing in heart soul worship as we should.

This most Holy City Jerusalem City of our God
site of our Saviour’s Cross where our Saviour trod;
Almighty God this is thy most sacred Holy City still
at Messiah’s return here raise holy men at thy will.

The Via Dolorosa (Latin for Way of Grief or Way of Suffering) is the sacred two part street, within the Old City of Jerusalem; where Jesus walked carrying the cross, on the way to his crucifixion.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Here I Come-4

Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.

Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.

Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.

You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.

poem by Buxton Shippy
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The Limitations

All of us preach
Only few of us can practice;

All of us search
Only few of us can conclude;

All of us sermon
Only few of us can follow;

All of us are students
Only few of us learn and excel;

All of us re-search
Only few of us can invent or discover;

All of us study
Only few of us can become knowledgeable;

All of us compose poetry
Only few of us are famous as poets par excellence;

All of us become rulers
Only few of us can rule with objectivity;

All of us suffer discrimination
Only few of us revolt and reform;

All of us meditate
Only few of us become yogis [1];

All of us pray to God
Only few of us will merge with Him;

Our limitations make us diverse
Only our mutual love and affection can make us one universe,
One family without malice

[1] Yogi: Seer, Saint

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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No remote is available

I have remote for my television
To change the channels and enjoy various programs;

I have remote also to change the stations
In World Space satellite radio to enjoy melodious music;

I can switch on my air conditioner to
Cool my room and myself using a remote;

But no remote is available with me
To operate my mind and moods

So that I can change and channelize them
To be peaceful and blissful always

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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Safe In New York City

(young - young)
Hello baby gimme your hand
Check out the high spots the lay of the land
You dont need a rocket or a big limousine
Come on over baby and Ill make you obscene
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
All over the city and down to the dives
Dont mess with this place itll eat you alive
Got lip smackin honey to soak up the jam
On top of the world ma ready to slam
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
Movin all over like a jumpin bean
Take a look at that thing in the tight ass jeans
Comin your way now you may be in luck
Dont you fret boy shes ready to buck
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
New york, new york, new york
I feel safe in a cage in new york city
2000, j. albert & son, pty.

song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Place For Poor

This is the only place for poor
As he is known as 'Gharib nawaj' attendant of poor
Situated at City of Aimer in Rajasthan State
We have no enough words to state

It is said and believed all your wishes are fulfilled
No one goes from here empty handed
It is privilege and honor to visit holy shrine
You may feel power so holy and divine

Lord Akbar* visited shrine barefoot
From New Delhi to entire route without boot
He was childless and wanted heir
He was in his approach very fair

This place is holier than holy
Kwaja*, as we call, was sage wholly
He spent entire life for welfare and people
Countless still visit his shrine for escaping troubles

Only those persons can visit whom Kwaja 'wants!
Rest can't make it if attempted to see place of saint
He divine light is, as legend goes, is prevalent
Complete peace is surrounded and prayers offered very silent

It is not only religious and holy
But symbol of unity and peace without any folly
No one dares to displease sage by wrong wishes
He is there to see real intent and suitably finishes

Such place is not only worshipped but respected
For its simplicity and without any laws being enacted
It is holy place open to all persons of different walks
You have any language, culture, custom to perform and talk

Only khwaja* gives call or inspire a person
It is considered as one of the holy omen with reasons
Khwaja* calls only those who are really his true devotees
Show them true path and they in turn follow and see

*Kwaja_ popularly known by name…* Lord Akbar. Mughal emperor

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Where the river Ganges meets Yamuna

[Fall from Himalayas and adrift on river Ganges; ]
A free fall while I was meditating at the peak
And I think of Issac Newton's Law 'The Gravity'.
Oh! When I touched the cold water of river Ganges at Dehra Dun
I was so happy after a long time.
At New Delhi takes water and returns only sewage.
Downstream, the Yamuna is almost dead like me.
At Varnasi the holliest city water levels dropped.
It's very strange while I alive couldn't see & hear anything,
Also feel nothing,
Death is really a gift.
You see, hear & feel everything
Then I became a real swimmer of life at the Bay of Bengal.

* I dedicate this poem to Jyoti.Tottam/Pipola for their great article in the Time Magazine 'How India's success is killing its holy river? '
And I think of my old friends Lalith Rohan in Netherlands and Joseph John who lives in Spain.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Holy City

I want to live in a holy city
I want to drink from a holy vine
I want to be where the people are pretty
Just because their feeling it deep down inside
I dont want to wait for heaven
I can find what I need right here on earth this time
Theres too many people theyre waiting for heaven
Oh let me tell you if you cant feel it here
You wont feel it there anyway
Oh anyway
I want to live in a stained glass window
I want to change with the light of day
Im gonna have the sun shining through me
Causing my existence in every way yeah
I dont want to wait for heaven
I can find what I need right here on earth this time
Too many people their waiting for heaven
Oh let me tell you if you cant feel it here
You wont feel it there anyway
Anyway yeah
I want to live in a heart of love
I want to swim in a mind at peace
I want to be your emotional outlet
I want to be loves sweet release
Im gonna build me a holy city
Im gonna drink from a holy, holy vine
Im want be where the people are pretty
Just because theyre feeling it
Deep down deep down
Deep down inside
Oh I dont want to wait for heaven
I can find what I need right here on earth this time
Too many people theyre waiting for heaven
Oh let me tell you if you cant feel it here
You wont feel it there anyway
If you cant feel it here
You wont feel it there anyway
Oh if you cant feel it here
You wont feel it there anyway
Ah anyway
Ah anyway
All right

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy, Holy, Holy

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!

song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Transference

Thousands dip in the Holy Ganges
And emerge clean
Making the holy waters filthy
Like the sewage from a drainage
This transference leaves
Many a holy place, unholy

poem by Valsa George
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A Fascinating Pilgrim-Centre(Haridwar)

The Ganges was flowing
with a face furious
and the tides were looming;
We paused to have a holy dip.
We put our right foot into water,
and took it up feeling dead chill;
Smelling danger from within,
“ We already bathed at Rishikesh”,
some of us said and put on clothes.
But some local boys dived into the river
and swam to the bank with ease.
Holding the chains tight,
We dipped and felt as we had all
comforting effect to our body and soul,
and failed not to murmur
the name of the goddess, Manasa Devi.

Walking on the long bridge
across the holy Ganges
seeing her alarming face,
journeying in trolleys
to worship the goddess
at Her abode on the Siwalik hills,
marveling at the tributaries
of the mighty Ganges,
is a solacing experience
in our birth on this earth.

People set afloat
leafy boats with flowers
and a lit lamp put on each,
on the sacred river after dusk
and see them till they go off,
saying prayers to the goddess
for blessing all of them.
People of farther planets
will amaze at the glowing lamps.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Tale of Three Cities

New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.

Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .

V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.

Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.

Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Holy Is The Lord

Holy is your name, in all the earth I worship you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I come to you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I sing to you
Holy, Holy, Holy is your name

Holy are you Lord, I come before your throne and bow
Holy are you Lord, I come into your presence now
Holy are you Lord I listen to the angels sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord

Holy are you Lord, my heart it leaps within my chest
Holy are you Lord, Its in your arms I find my rest
Holy are you Lord, the saints around the world they sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord

Now listen to the saints, they sing Holy are you Lord
Now listen to them cry to you, Holy are you Lord
There is a cry around the world, they lift their voice and sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord

I come before your throne to sing, Holy is your name
I come before your throne to sing, I'll never be the same
Pour our out your fire of love on me, this is what I sing
Holy, Holy, to the risen King

poem by Frank McEleny
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The Sleep

The sleep is natural to many
But it denies itself to so many

Sleep is calmness within
When ego rests in The Self

Sleep pervades into
Inner recesses of consciousness
And the awareness recedes

The sleep is silence
To happenings
Within and without of the body
Conscious but unaware

The sleep is the experience of the Self
And The Self is the sleep’s seer
Guide and terminator

The sleep is cessation of
Mental activities within
And is free from interference of self-consciousness

Is tonic to mental ailments and malfunctions
The sleep is the bliss, the peace
And the tranquility of mind

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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You are not just a city.

You are not just a city,
You are more than that,
Much, much more,
For you are the very heart of God.

Let no one say you are just a city,
Let them that do be accursed,
You are more than that,
You are the brightest jewel in His crown.

Jerusalem, eternal and holy,
Not just a city,
The throne room is what you are,
From you He will reign.

Not just a city,
You are the very heart,
A bright shining star,
Yerushilim, this is what you are.

poem by Steven Reeve
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