Cleaning Rituals Of Clever Men
Even before the discovery of wash lets,
from the land of rising sun in the east,
Even before the invention of washrooms,
from the land of congested petty nations,
Even before the construction of squatting,
holes and the adjacent storage compartments,
There were people who discharged in the buckets,
in the palace of Buckingham.
Workers collected one pound for a bucket,
Masters sprayed the new perfume distilled.
Ladies of London had taken their clothes,
to wash in the streams and rivers,
across the town a century ago,
that the people,
from the kampung of Indonesia do
until today.
Village ladies from India,
take the sombhu early morning,
to empty their bowels before sun rise.
Village ladies from India,
go to the kulam to bathe and clean,
while their men bathe on the other side.
None ravish none,
as they have no sin.
Presence of pimps,
is the sign for poverty.
Is License to prostitute,
the sign of prosperity?
Women have this license,
and they have to renew it yearly,
in a few European countries.
Men are very clever,
to perfumed the smelling palace.
Men are very clever,
to change a woman to a whore,
on their own,
and this need is created,
by the men and for the men.
Fools are us, we, women.
Kampung is a Malay word for village.
Sombhu is water pitcher in Tamil.
Kulam means pond in Tamil
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Cow's urine
Cow 's
urine is...
Very very
Good...
It was usese
Some houses
At the...
Drops to water
Washing...
In india's
villages...
yes it is
Some naturral
Anti water...
some moor
village people
washes face also...
Cow's urine...
With gentely...!
[in india at tamil nadu village people usese's cow's urine...}
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ladies Pay
All the sailors theyre all home from leave
And everybodys waiting for them to try to deceive
The storekeepers have drawn their lace curtains bare
And all the women and the wee young girls all waiting there
Oh, but how the ladies pay
Oh, if they only knew how the ladies pay
Yeah now, how the ladies pay
Oh, when the men theyve gone away
Nobody is standing on upon the door
And nobody is feeding any of the poor
The poor sick soldier lies in bed beside his girl
Thinking of another place on the other side of the world
Ah
How the ladies pay
Oh-oh, oh, how the ladies pay
When the men theyve gone away
Oh, I wish I knew how the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night
Night and day
Day and night
Day and night, night and day, ladies pay now
Night and day, day and night
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night now
Night and day and now
How the pay now
Oh, how the pay now
Ladies pay, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay the way now
Ladies pay, ah, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay
Night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
Oh, night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water, Poet: Sohrab Sepehri
We shouldn’t muddy the water
A pigeon may drink it down the road
Or in a far away grove a starling may bathe
Or in the village, a jug may be filled
We shouldn’t muddy the water
This running water may feed a poplar and
wash away sadness from a heavy heart
A dervish may dip his dry bread in it
A pretty woman may come to the river bank
We shouldn’t muddy the water
The beauty will be doubled
What refreshing water!
What limpid river!
How pure the uptown people are
May their springs always boil and their cows always milk!
I have not seen their village
But, no doubt, god walks along their wattles
The Moon, over there, lights the width of words
No doubt, uptown, the walls are short
Their people know what a poppy is
No doubt, over there, blue is blue
The people know when a flower blooms
What a village it would be!
May its garden alleys be filled with music!
The people from the head of the river know water.
They did not muddy it
Neither should we
poem by Mehraneh Hosseini
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When My country helps integrate another nationality
when integration becomes
another nation's task
my assamese friend talks
with my tamil nadu friend
in my country's language
to get to each other
It seems that the people in Tamil Nadu, southern india would only speak tamil though hindi is the national language. so when somebody from other parts of india meet with them, they have to either converse in english or in another country's language. quite a strange status quo isnt it?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I am in crazy in love with Girls
It amazing how life is transformed sometimes
I don’t know whether it because of the changing of the season
But let me tell something interesting
When I was young I could pay no interest that there are people who are beautiful
As soon as I grew up I had people talking to me
They say what a beautiful child am I.
But today I am old
As long as I could see I could see that there people who are beautiful
Next to me I sit along a beautiful girl both left and right
Even the room where we are is beautiful
That is the way why I offer a smile to each and everyone for the first time
I can see the reason why I lick my finger no more
It because such nice people give a warm welcome baby
Yes they can say what ever wrong to me but I think I must forgive them
It because they are beautiful –ladies
Beautiful ladies
It because they are beautiful –ladies
Beautiful ladies
It because they are beautiful –ladies
Beautiful ladies
It because they are beautiful –ladies
Beautiful ladies
Wooo hhooh woo huhu hugh
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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Ladys Aid Society
In every little town and village too
Somewhere in the neighborhood
Youll find a little band of ladies who
Cant stop doing good
Good for the pigeons in the park
Good for the weekly tea
Good for the national bank where they keep their treasury
Were the ladies aid society
And were really a great bunch of girls
Were the ladies aid society
And soon well take over the world
Here they come marching down the street
Witgh their picket signs in hand
With their blue and white pleated uniforms
And their all girl five-piece band
Down with long haired singing groups
Down with the mayor too
And if you;re under 65 theyre down on you
Were the ladies aid society
And we just want to sell you the truth
Were the ladies aid society
And its time we clamp down on the youth
Were the ladies aid society
And were really a great bunch of girls
Were the ladies aid soicety
And soon well take over the world
Were the ladies aid society
And we just want to sell you the truth
Were the ladies aid society
And its time we clamp down on the youth
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of songs
It’s early morning
and the sun hangs like a large orange
Just above the hillocks
Three teenage girls
undress at the clear water
of a Brooklet.
The are shy for others,
but like to bathe together and walk
with bare feet into the rocky little stream.
Everyone of them is still young and pure
and splash and frolic while the sun
shines hotter and brighter.
The water is still cold
and their nipples are hard and black
on their round breasts.
While they wash each other
it sparkles shiny and rows of drops
are on their brown skins
The water runs of in little streams
down arms, stomachs, hips and thighs
and they stand and talk and laugh.
Something quivers in the reeds where is grows in a thicket
deep into the stream and they see
a dark green water monitor going into the water.
They run screaming and stark naked
and try without any clothes, to get direction
to the shacks of the village where they stay.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When 2 R In Love
So fair she looked tonight,
The brightest star appeals to your sex.
Before we do anything,
Let me just talk 2 u.
When 2 r in love
They whisper secrets
Only they 2 can hear
When 2 r in love
When 2 r in love (love)
Their stomachs will pound
Every time the other comes near
When 2 r in love
When 2 r in love
Falling leaves will appear 2 them
Like slow motion rain (slow motion, slow motion)
When 2 r in love
The speed of their hips
Can be faster than a runaway train
Drop, drop, drop, drop, water, water, water
Come bathe with me
Lets drown each other in each others emotions
Bathe with me
Lets cover each other with perfume and lotion
Bathe with me
Let me touch your body til your rivers an ocean
Bathe with me
Lets kiss with one synonymous notion
That nothings forbidden and nothings taboo
When the 2 r in love
L.o.v.e. - l.o.v. - can u hear me?
When 2 r in love
Their bodies shiver at the mere contemplation
Of penetration (let alone the act)
Let alone the actual act
When 2 r in love
The thought of his tongue in the v of her love
In his mind, this thought it leads the pack
Come bathe with me
Lets drown each other in each others emotions
Bathe with me
Lets cover each other with perfume and lotion
Bathe with me
Let me touch your body til your rivers an ocean
Bathe with me
Lets kiss with one synonymous notion
That nothings forbidden and nothings taboo
When the 2 r in love
(love) in love - can u hear me?
(hold me)
(yeah)
(just like that)
(dont move)
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Tailet
Open the ground
Tailet
Making for people...
In village side
in city near
Open tailet
For india
Maniside...
Men and women
Boys and girls
And all are going
The tailet..
Tailet was open
Upon the nature...
Nature was darty
Of this tailet
Not for good
tailet -
With open
But;
Cleness tailet
was not in india
Many side...
What can do the
People? ?
So making for
Open tailet....
Its too freelet....! ! ? ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warakurna
There is enough for everyone
In redfern as there is in alice
This is not the buckingham palace
This the crown land
This is the brown land
This is not our land
Some folks live in water tanks
Some folks live in red brick flats
There is enough, the law is carved in granite
Its been shaped by wind and rain
White law could be wrong
Black law could be strong
Warakurna, cars will roll
Dont drink by the water hole
Court fines on the shopfront wall
Beat the grog and save your soul
Some people laugh, some never learn
This land must change or land must burn
Some people sleep, some people yearn
This land must change or land must burn
Diesel and dust is what we breathe
This land dont change and we dont leave
Some people live, some never die
This land dont change this land must lie
Some people leave, always return
This land must change or land must burn
Warakurna, camels roam
Fires are warm and dogs are cold
Not since lassiter was here
Black mans got a lot to fear
Some people laugh, some never learn
This land must change or land must burn
Some people leave, always return
This land must change or land must burn
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Village Pond
Here, there, women, children and men
Talk animatedly, little water waves disrupted by scooping
Water vessels, the faded green water lilies, shoved aside.
Cows moo, the goats bleat,
School children scramble for a spill,
The edges, slippery and muddy, non of a bother.
The gold, liquid of life, simmers under the hot sun,
Though, shrinking in size, by every draw,
The earth is bare, the pond tags their hope.
Here in the pond, they see, sigh and fall
The feminine and masculine bodies attract
The gossip, filters, confirmed, a new life sees dawn.
Wild tree fruits, like monsters surround the village pond
I'm told the fruits, purify the village pond
Lives ruled, made to see day, Honor to the village pond.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Illegal Logging
Bank nice bank Government Bank
hoarding my American Dollars;
safely behind steal vaulted doors
curious visiting customers, cannot see.
New customer is the giant in the clouds
counting golden eggs safely clutched away;
where is Jack in Bean Stalk ready to assault
my mythical Fort Knox, castle in the clouds?
Kampung robber robbed timber facing
boards off a near neighbours’ house;
stolen in the still of night? No it was
a brazen robbery interrupted, at 7pm.
Ebu Ebu Eda cut down her beautiful trees
but a day later in fear of kampung thieves;
climbing her bean stalk trees over garden walls
to her spacious manicured, cloud mansion in the sky.
Curse curse kampung thieves stealing
living wood from trees while Indonesian;
politicians line their pockets with profit
stolen from illegal, deforestation of Sumatera.
All Sumaterian rain forest to be cut down
so massive island can grow only palm oil;
to oil greasy hands of the rich and corrupt
Indonesia seeking to attain, number one status.
Indonesia presently placing ranked third
in international global corruption analysis?
Two barrow policy; sanctioned or illegal back
pocket; illegal rain forest logging, deforestation.
Indonesia manifest as gross
crime against mother nature;
as gross gross crime against environmental
international concerns, of global warming.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Kampung an Indonesian village or villager.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Classical Tamil
Yes, Tamil has got classical status
Because it is an ancient language great,
That lives and grows midst people globally,
Enchanting, enthralling all equally.
Yes, Tamil makes the Tamilian proud,
And the culture of India to look great,
Amusing scholars of the modern world
Through songs, and dramas; films and poetry.
Yes, Tamil has a history that is old,
And spoken by ten crores of people well,
And makes its progress in a rapid pace,
And has a future that is promising!
Yes, Tamil perhaps could be Gods’ language,
With untold beauty, grandeur and glory,
That holds many a heart dumbfounded with
Immortal works of priceless heritage.
Dedicated to Tamil Chemmozhi Manadu, June,2010
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-6-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Family Is Your Responsibility. Be Responsible!
Our village roads are not tarred and concreted,
Red soiled paths leveled and polished by our foot prints,
Our Highways are better, but built by the foreigners,
The town roads are the worst with potholes and hanging wires,
Someone dig the roads for something and leave it,
The people of India walk on the roads as it is,
The way to live the life, in the pitiful style and manner,
Everyone speaks, everyone knows, but no one bothers,
Summer is the time for the nuclear plant of universe to scotch,
At the people of India, who live in huts and slums,
Less than eight feet high to keep the house cool,
Dried Thatched roof allow the rain and light,
People gather the disposed plastics to seal and hide,
Persistent sun rays pierce through the plastic sheets,
Life is not tough for the people who have these abode,
As they have no time to think and cry of their grief,
When the tough life is the real life for them and many,
Tougher they are, to face the challenging destiny,
People on the roads, sea of heads walk with a purpose,
I do not know what that purpose is, but everyone busy,
India is one of the countries, where people struggle to survive,
Not the survival properly planned and implemented,
IT and computers have changed our landscape,
High rises are seen here and there in Metro and Cosmo,
Prices of the land escalated as high as Everest,
We have joined the elite group of nuclear war fare,
But Indians, who work in India, can't own a residence,
Scarcity of water, electricity and stress, is abundant,
No one force us to follow, but the rituals are followed,
With utter obedience and our strength gets strengthened.
Our Men love their female folks and our women too,
Squabble may occur in a relationship, but not in our family unit,
The parents of India strive hard to keep this unit unbroken,
Our children grow to mature to follow the same unshaken.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stop Acting! We Have Issues To Address!
More than hundred million of our people,
Live in luxury. The luxury you can't find in any castle,
Of a European country, as the labor law is strict there,
Here in my father's land India, abused are our workers,
Who can work nonstop for the peanut salaries and old clothes,
Modern day slaves bend their heads to the floor,
Most of them not protected against ills and injuries,
Mansions and factories filled with cheap laborers,
Where the dogs are well fed, cared and have a clean place,
To call it their home, but the children of our brothers,
Have waited silently for a new dawn for many years,
During the visit of our ministers, our roads are spotless,
During inspection days, everything is kept in order to impress,
During the arrival of foreign dignitaries, the dramas enacted,
To show the prosperity of the poverty stricken political ideology,
When climb down the steps of the red carpeted,
Pathway of the airplane staircases, everyone with a nose,
Can smell the decaying of the uncollected rubbish,
Few kilometers away, the sides of the modern and old roads occupied,
By the homeless, who have nothing to say it their own,
Except the poverty that is nurtured in the hearts of poverty,
Which in turn disperse the seeds of poverty everywhere,
Through dirty wind, water and land agents, here
Seven hundred million live in poverty and another three hundred,
Try to act neither as rich nor as poor, but as a middle class.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ladies Man
Well, Ive heard of heartbreakers
But you take the cake
Ladies man
You could charm the diamonds
Off a rattlesnake
Ladies man
Ladies bring it on over
When you give em the glance
They dont stand a chance
First, you unfold them
Then you pigeon-hole em
Ladies man
Well it sure takes a lot of
Good natured self-control
Ladies man
When Im so hot for you and
Youre so cold, so cold
Ladies man
Why do you keep on trying to
Make a man of me
Couldnt you just love me--
Like you love cocaine
Cocaine head games
Cross my heart I swear
Im not trying to trick you
No tricks
Ladies man
Its just a straight ahead feeling
I have for you
Nothing slick
Ladies man
I guess you learn to refuse
What you think you cant handle
Youre acting like a vandal
Wrecking the dream
At the first bad scene
Ladies man
Ladies man
Ladies man
Ladies man
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Village Green
Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tribal Ways (Karez* of Dabkot*)
From the first habitations in the valley
In old fortress like Kot* called the old Kot
The occupation was fabulous for the earth
Did promise of harvests in plenty for all
Towards the west in steep rising the plateau
Behind the small hills the sun would set
There were springs of water when in refuge
The encampment was settled before the valley
For the water how to fetch and for the fields
Underground channels they had seen
On the way through the oasis of villages
Who could do it for the skill was possessed
Uzbeks from north who bore the earth
To bring down water on surface in the middle
The rejoicing village as inhabitants grew further
Divided times as to capacity of the clan
Soon greenery was patched on dry soil
Plumes and apples and mulberries
A small orchard for every house adjacent
Water for drinking then flew to the mosque
Made of mud with much devotion
Then baths for the men in common
Followed by it was the place for washing
For women to gossip and laundry of the day
Happy fishes and few crabs too in the water
Life giving springs from where the water came
Of the green trees named after the gallant
The elderly and sweet hearts of the village
Many a lovers around the corners
Of the Karez here and there under trees
The damsels either to fetch water
Or wash clothes or to the fields away
An embroidered gift with perfume of apples
Thrown on the dust for the lover to pick
The shepherdess in the evening to return
Water her sheep on the many water ways
The fresh cold water for bath in the morn
So was the simplicity when on occasions
For the drum beats and dance with songs
In duets on marriages and visits on celebrations
And then came the drought on the happy land
No water in spring in sadness died the fishes
The crab ran away and stones did stopped
Giving sustenance to the water and the larvae
I wept on the bank of Karez of Dabkot
One evening when I saw the ducts being filled
Never to reopen again from the earth
Never shall a sight sadden me more
Than the memory of cold water springs
The memory of the fish that many a times
Jumped up and down to kiss my hands
*Karez: Underground ducts of fresh spring water
*Dabkot: Name of a village
*Kot: Fortress like compound made of mud
22/4/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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