Kyarek To Tu Malish Mane
Gujju POEM
Kyrek to tu malish mane.....
jivan na palav ma samavish mane...
moza to dariya ma udya mane tu kinare to pohchadish mane...
Kyrek to tu malish mane.....
rasta ni dhul samji kyarek to tu mathe chadvis ne...
kyrek to tu malish mane....
cheli savase tara uar ma to samavish mane.....
kyrek to tu malish mane....
poem by Sandeep Jahaal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Lion In An Iron Cage
Look at the lion in the iron cage,
look deep into his eyes:
like two naked steel daggers
they sparkle with anger.
But he never loses his dignity
although his anger
comes and goes
goes and comes.
You couldn't find a place for a collar
round his thick, furry mane.
Although the scars of a whip
still burn on his yellow back
his long legs
stretch and end
in the shape of two copper claws.
The hairs on his mane rise one by one
around his proud head.
His hatred
comes and goes
goes and comes ...
The shadow of my brother on the wall of the dungeon
moves
up and down
up and down.
poem by Nazim Hikmet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Vain
Well just the other day
While alone in my room
I said to myself
I need something new
Ive cut a new life slice
And feed the lions twice
And theyll shake their manes in confusion
My love
My loves in vain
My love
Put a bet on everything
Itll come up fine
My fingers are crossed
And tapping in time
You got a pretty face
Such a pretty pretty face
You can brush your own mane
Fame is your pain
Maybe an older woman
Will show me a way
To ease those creases
And crave no reasons
cause reasons are with gods
Theres a heaven within me
But we all shake our manes in confusion
Should I grab you by the collar
Or just go my way
With a knife between my clean white teeth
Dont want your feather in my cap
Dont care about that
You can brush your own mane
Fame is your pain
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Serendipity in the Serengeti
Embattled heart
In the trappings of melancholy
Searching for a light
Steadfast, looming large
Like a Lion's mane glistening in the twilight
Searching for a trapdoor of fate
To be written in the manuscripts of time
As a survivor, wounded yet gallant
The heart of a lion tugged by the vines of destiny
To hunt in the path of hope's glimmer
Shining forth like the Sun's rays scattering
To the grottoes of a den of bleeding lions
For the mane to be one with her destiny, the looming sun
To hunt in the prosperity of an untamed heart
As the lion in you re-awakes to hunt like his ancestors
To rekindle the fires of his hearth
To transcend caverns of melancholy
To the eternal sunshine of an endless savannah
Serendipity in the Serengeti
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you can't hold on to the horse's mane then don't try to hang on to its tail.
The Twa Corbies
AS I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane:
The tane unto the tither did say,
'Whar sall we gang and dine the day?'
'--In behint yon auld fail dyke
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.
'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady 's ta'en anither mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue e'en:
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
'Mony a one for him maks mane,
But nane sall ken whar he is gane:
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'
Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"—In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pick out his bonnie blue een;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"—In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pick out his bonnie blue een;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame;
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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African Radiance
Behold the lion's golden mane,
His stature and his stance,
As if he stalks through golden grain,
A vision to entrance...
Such poise, such grace, such confidence,
Such priceless majesty,
Such wondrous, thunderous elegance,
Such precious sovereignty...
Behold the lion's state of mind,
Without one trace of love,
As if he'd left that far behind
When times were getting tough...
His mane was gold, his heart was black,
Just outer radiance...
The hunt was on, no turning back,
No change of sentiments...
Behold the lion's sombre stare,
Fixated on his prey...
As if no mercy left to spare,
Regardless night or day...
He looks determined, without doubt,
As if the end is nigh,
As if his prey had no way out,
No time to wonder why...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'African Radiance'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Insane
She tossed back
Her tawny mane
Clear october sky in her eyes
Again
I'm going insane
(2008/6/14)
poem by Persian Nightingale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghost Horse
Sitting on the window ledge
Staring straight ahead
I see you grazing in the field
The sun shining bright
And the sky a baby blue
Clouds no where to be seen
He must really love you
You wander off
Just out of sight
Behind the light pink blossom tree
I am drawn to you
I race, I run,
But I’m to late
Where have you gone?
I see you by the water stream
So quiet, so peaceful
And so magnificent
Your moves are like an angel
They almost float and fly
Your coat sparking in the sun
Your mane a radiant white
Your standing over me
Nudging me…..
I don’t know what to do
I put down my pencil and pad
And leap on your back
And you set off
So here we are
Racing through the field
Hunters go past
The hunters are gone
Yet I see a horse
Its rider face down in the mud
A Whinny but no scream
Sitting on the window ledge
staring straight ahead
Now I watch that hunters horse
because that horse lost its rider
I asked around
Yet noone knew of a horse
With a coat that sparkled in the sun
With a mane a radiant white
and till this say, i swear ill see you again
poem by Megzii Invisable
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great, for just a moment in time
Fire in my belly,
Inspiration had struck,
like a lightning bolt in the desert,
From the Clouds onto the sand,
A moment until the dust settles.
My Eyes, they are widened,
To see all, that surrounds me,
I grab Pen, I grab Pad,
and I write, and I scribble, and I draw large sketches,
And let my belly fire grow and devastate,
The fire becomes similar to a bush fire,
my pencil or pen writes across the pages of my pad,
and the ink and lead consume the lines and blank spaces.
And make creations of those in my mind.
A lion you become, Part of a bohemian Pride,
looking down upon your art with a great flowing mane,
and a roar of pride as you claw a title across the top.
Inspiration had struck,
And it makes you feel strong, powerful, even invisible,
And Proud.
You become a lion in its pride with a flowing great mane,
like lightning striking down on a desert,
A belly fire crawling across the bush,
You become Great, For just a moment in time.
poem by Sam Seymour
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me... Eccentricity... and Poetry
A pair of newly purchased, round lens glasses
That now perch steadfast and proud
upon my brow
Endow me the rather amusing mien…
of a startled, outraged and somewhat
surprised barn owl
A matted mane of shaggy grey hair
And a tiny flagrant bald spot
Poised defiantly there
Demanded that my eccentric appearance
Should be given
an upward rachet
So to be more in keeping
With Burns, Bierce and
“Bob Cratchett”
For it’s a rigid requirement
For old poets
To seem
Like a character,
stepped out of…
“A mid-summers night dream”
So I look in my mirror
Perch my round lenses
To the tip of my nose
Peer solemnly down that
Aquiline feature… and strive to
Strike… a perfect poetic pose
I’m perfectly eccentric now! ! What with my shaggy mane…
my round lensed glasses, my bushy eyebrows…
And my baggy clothes.
And now, being perfectly equipped, I must buckle down…
with an extremely proper, literary, dusty frown
And write some very eccentric prose
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Compound Fracture
Tyler Mane, Muse Watson, Derek Mears, Leslie Easterbrook, Renae Geerlings, Alex Saxon, Susan Angelo, Jelly Howie
from Compound Fracture (2013)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shadow's Poem
Galloping free
Together again
Constant companions
Fires burning
Passion igniting
Happiness awaits
Reaching towards
Eternal love
Hands grasping
Mane flowing
Always together
Pounding hooves
Beating hearts
Forever one
poem by Shiloh Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unicorn 7
This forest glade, mossy, silent underfoot,
shaft of sunlight catching the quivering flight of woodland moths,
tempts even the shyest, slender deer
whose slightest nostril twitch, reveals a whole forest’s map;
the crackle of a single twig, a disappearing, graceful leap;
yet even the deer graze undisturbed
when in a thought’s space, that creature’s there;
for not proximity but presence, is what they share;
each, in peace, moves in the other’s presence;
this we know as peace.
and on the high hills where the air is ever on the move,
the eagle, circling like the first navigator
of the globe – yet seeing so much more –
glances undisturbed; with knowledge, and love, too, that’s beyond
family, or prey, when that strange, familiar white creature
with flowing mane, prances, canters, into sight; their presence shared
so far apart; so near.
and in the foamy waves, the dolphins leap and sport
around it, as that creature, open-mouthed as if in joy,
shakes from its wet and glorious mane
the salty drops of water, while the dolphins
speak to it in a language beyond beauty’s sound –
so this noble creature in its turn
undisturbed by those to whom it shows itself
beyond all perturbations of the world;
detached, yet gives itself to all;
Orpheus, or unicorn, or Muse –
to be led by such a creature, joyously,
knowing nothing of the where or here or there
but trust – this the poetry of the world.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Spring Breakers
James Franco, Selena Gomez, Ashley Benson, Vanessa Hudgens, Rachel Korine, Heather Morris, Cait Taylor, Lauren Vera, Gucci Mane, Emma Holzer
by Harmony Korine from Spring Breakers (2012)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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An old Lion sleeps
In a Zoo African Lion's vacant cage was opened
And a notorious drunkard jumped in and locked the door.
He was fast asleep and groaning.
A passerby said; 'The lazy Lion's roar like a groan of a human being
And it's very strange as no tufted tail and shaggy mane to be seen? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Woman has taken over
Mane, hair, crest are all the male adornments
To claim the acceptance of the best female.
In the human kingdom, it is women who are adorned
With long hair, costumes and cosmetics.
.
Cow selects bull. Man selects woman
23.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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