Personal Expressions in Poetry

[saidevo]

Thanks to Satay for opening the 'Poet's Corner' for a good cause; and here is the effect!

These are verses (I would hesitate to call them poetry) I was 'inspired' by the Muse to scribble during my college days (over 36 years ago). I am presenting them here for their supposed 2-cents' worth.

It is my belief that everyone is a poet at heart; he/she only needs to express what gushes inside in words. Poetry in the English classical form is rather easy to pen, though the quality and sparkle depends on its message.

Epigrams

An epigram is a short poem with a witty or satifical point. It is a good way to think about things.

PEACE is a motley curtain on the stage
Between the brawling scenes in a play of rage.

DEATH is the gesture of the Light
To the meandering Plane amidst its flight.

FASHION is a greedy worm
That eats the fruits of agelong forms.

This LIFE's a tale, and we wish to be its hero;
But as it ends, we find ourselves to be a zero.

POEMS are photographs taken by mind
And seen through both pairs of eyes combined.

POEMS are insects wafting sweet pollen
Of ambrosial minds that are with joy swollen.

POEMS are diamonds delved from the deepest mine;
Polished by Wit, from everywhere they shine.

POEMS are forgeries of minds inspired;
And poets scarcely escape, exacting to what they desired!

POEMS are pickles soaked long in mind,
To give that pungent taste unique for their kind.

Here are some light verses. A limerick is a verse in 5 lines, usually with the rhyme scheme aabba in a specific metre (check dictionary for details). It is one of the preferred forms for light verses and nonsensical poems.

The first of the following verses is not a limerick but a reqular quartrain. In the limerick 'On Life' that follows, you may probably hear the sound of the train moving on its track!

God the Chemist

God, the Chemist, in His lab of heaven
Titrated with the Sun's liquid rays
The dark night; it dissolved to traces when
The rosy morning appeared by His grace!

On Life

Along the predestinate grooves
Curved like a projectile's trajectory moves
This train of our long life,
Hijacked without a strife
By Destiny. Rejected, dejected it moves!

The Ideal Student

"I'll prepare a schedule," he said,
By his poor performances disquieted.
He spent weeks to adapt it,
He spent months to adopt it;
"Tomorrow's the test," he moaned at length in bed!

Some forums (even science forums) have a poetry forum where the members are encouraged to pen their thoughts in poetry. Please feel free to use the medium of verse which is a gift of God and post your experiences with poetry, either in this thread or another. We may also collect good haikus in our Poetry forum in a separate thread.

I also wrote some longer verses; shall post them if the members would like to read it.

[yajvan]

Hari Om
~~~~~



Epigrams

An epigram is a short poem with a witty or satifical point. It is a good way to think about things.

PEACE is a motley curtain on the stage
Between the brawling scenes in a play of rage.

DEATH is the gesture of the Light
To the meandering Plane amidst its flight.

FASHION is a greedy worm
That eats the fruits of agelong forms.

This LIFE's a tale, and we wish to be its hero;
But as it ends, we find ourselves to be a zero.

POEMS are photographs taken by mind
And seen through both pairs of eyes combined.

POEMS are insects wafting sweet pollen
Of ambrosial minds that are with joy swollen.

POEMS are diamonds delved from the deepest mine;
Polished by Wit, from everywhere they shine.

POEMS are forgeries of minds inspired;
And poets scarcely escape, exacting to what they desired!

POEMS are pickles soaked long in mind,
To give that pungent taste unique for their kind.

Here are some light verses. A limerick is a verse in 5 lines, usually with the rhyme scheme aabba in a specific metre (check dictionary for details). It is one of the preferred forms for light verses and nonsensical poems.

The first of the following verses is not a limerick but a reqular quartrain. In the limerick 'On Life' that follows, you may probably hear the sound of the train moving on its track!



Namaste saidevo,

very nice.

What is an epigram? a dwarfish whole, Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
Author? unknown

[saidevo]

Namaste Yajvan.

I am glad that my verses are liked in HDFpuri. The author of the epigram quote you have mentioned is Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

[Soul]

I also wrote some longer verses; shall post them if the members would like to read it.


Namaste All,

Yes please saidevo...


Universal Prayer



O adorable Lord of mercy and love,
Salutations and prostrations unto Thee.
Thou art omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient;
Thou are Satchidananda, Truth, Knowledge, and Bliss;
Thou art the Indweller of all beings.

Grant us an understanding heart,
Equal vision, balanced mind,
Faith, devotion, and wisdom.
Grant us inner spiritual strength
To resist temptations and to control the mind.
Free us from egoism, lust, greed, and hatred,
Fill our hearts with divine virtues.

Let us behold Thee in all these names and forms,
Let us serve Thee in all these names and forms,
Let us ever remember Thee,
Let us ever sing Thy glories,
Let Thy name be ever on our lips,
Let us abide in Thee for ever and ever.


-Swami Sivananda (http://www.poetseers.org/spiritual_and_devotional_poets/india/swami_sivananda/swami_sivananda_poems/swami_sivananda/)



I am He!




Mind, nor intellect, nor ego, feeling;
Sky nor earth nor metals am I.
I am He, I am He, Blessed spirit, I am He!
No birth, no death, no caste have I;
Father, mother, have I none.
I am He, I am He, Blessed spirit, I am He!
Beyond the flights of fancy, formless am I,
Permeating the limbs of all life;
Bondage I do not fear; I am free, ever free.
I am He, I am He, Blessed spirit, I am He!

By: Shankaracharya (http://www.poetseers.org/spiritual_and_devotional_poets/india/shankar/shankaracharya_poems/shankar/)









Here's a link to some Hindu poets...



http://www.poetseers.org/spiritual_and_devotional_poets/india/
(http://www.poetseers.org/spiritual_and_devotional_poets/india/swami_sivananda/)





Retreat

The real retreat is
to the silent place within One-Self...
The real renunciation
is renouncing
ones identification
with the mind and body
as who one is...




Love,
Soul

[saidevo]

My Longer Poems

Here are some longer poems I so fervently composed over days; I have generally been careless in preserving my juvenile compositions, yet these verses have survived in old type-written sheets of paper.

This is a Shakespearean sonnet, which has three quartrains with the rhyme scheme abab, cdcd, efef and a couplet rhyming gg.

The Kites

Innocent boys are playing with their kites;
Each freedom-loving kite aloft in sky,
Now soars, now falls, now drifts, now wades and fiights
Its way, wagging its tail--and flittiing to vie
With or woo the birds--like Indian legendary snakes,
Or the wrigglers of mosquitoes, forever
Slighting the thread but still within its shakes,
Enjoying the capricious currents of air.

The anxious boys send 'telegrams' to them
To keep them in their bounds, and flip the threads
With the fond endearment of a father, to stem
Their reckless motion and weigh down their spreads.

We are such kites drifted by God above:
The nearer we are, the safer within his love.

Note: A 'telegram' is a paper ring the kite flier sends through the thread to control the drift of the kites.

A song on the greatness of a poet:

Is there a Way?

Is there a way to pen, to carve in ink,
Or paint in a reading mind,
Those fragrant roses before they fade as the pink
Of dawn along the wind?

Is there a way to kiss those elves of Muse
Who play in dreams serene
Before the slightest tides disturb, and to fuse
That kiss to papers green?

Is there a way to catch those fleeing stars
Receding fast in mind's
Eternal space before they go afar
Assigning void behind?

If thou could carve those roses sweet
If thou could kiss those fairy elves
Or catch those fleeing stars, we treat
Thee as the Poet Supreme and yield ourselves.

Life is a precarious journey up the mountains in the hope of a spring at the summit which we try to reach amidst trials and errors:

The Mountaineeer

I resolve to try again
Whenever I fail in a thing
This trial and error makes
Me move towards the Spring.

But the Spring is far away
And the road is sloping high
To the very summit
That lips the azure sky.

Even as a snail on the pole
I climb a foot but fall by three.
Even as a child I topple down
And need the hand of Thee.

Thus I plan and fail that makes me frail;
I sob and sigh that makes me dry;
You smile and smile and time beguiles
I hope and hope and hold the rope--

Before me creep the greyish stones,
Beneath me waits the vale for bones.

[satay]

namaste sai,
got anymore poetry to share?

[saidevo]

Namaste Satay.

Thank you for asking. Here are two more penned during my college days:

Relay Race

BOYS are playing relay race:
Look, they whirl around in pairs;
We watch the game with changing face,
As to whom to the Judge the Cup declares.

Now boys, the dawn and day and dusk and night
Maintain the same thing with us: they whirl around
With the magic wand of Time! The Stars delight
To watch the game as to whom the Cup is bound.

Young boys and girls, we bear the sacred Torch
Of Wisdom which our dads have left for us.
Come let's revolve, evolve, and gain the march,
And pass the Torch to Posterity when we should pass!

To the Muse

Jasmines, roses, lilies and lotus flowers
Cannot equal thy smile!
They live only for hours,
Whereas thine reads a life of Eternal Style.

[saidevo]

Contrasting Joy and Pleasure was a favourite theme with Davis. While pleasure is mostly of the senses, joy is something that transcends senses and goes into heart. What we call aesthetic pleasure is really a kind of joy. "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever", says Keats. All sights, thoughts and sounds of beauty kindle joy in a poet:

JOY

NEVER I saw a fairer child--
Sweet as a rose
on the dark, thorny stalk
she perched
on the hands of a damsel.
(Damn the damsel and come to the child!)
I stared astonishingly
at her eyes
f-l-u-t-t-e-r-i-n-g
from face to face
like butterflies.
Her little tongue like little bells
sounded at pujas
rang out her lisps
astounded
at the myriad munching mouths of men!
As I stood up
and drew near her
and patted on her cheeks
with fear,
LOOK, ALL MY WORLD GREW HAPPY THEN!

ALL days I was murmuring
over the records of a melody
of a jungle film
as if I were half
the lark of the Tamil skies
and half
the honey-tongued youth!
Food for the growlers
of my meandering plane!
No more, yes, no more
did the ailerons complain
nor the elevators
and the craft landed safe
at the scene of light
the scene of truth,
the scene of joy!

LONG streets of bazaar
where youths take a stroll
in the evenings.
But how far did they annoy
the flitting eyes
and the brooding mind
until
hundreds of fair-faces tripped along
releasing nightingales from their lips
and glow-worms from their eyes.
Splendid, scientillations
and jargons of joy!

GRUNTING along the roads the buss was passing--
Long, blue road cutting through the little fields;
Fields of paddy--grapevine--sugercane.
What a variety of green!
Young blades of tender green
shaded into those
of darkening green,
these into green
matured and thick
and to the ripening crops
of yellowish green!
And then the tarnished green
of palms--banyans--drumsticks--coconuts--plantains.
Patches of palm erect marched along.
Broad banyans
time-revered
stretching their showery hands
like spiders dangling in air.
Smooth barked drumsticks
passed into cool, coconut groves
guarding the road.
And the plantains with their spade-like leaves
were digging the air
that spanned the whole area
by pushing the clouds--
clouds like cotton bags hanging--
against the Western Ghats.
Those dark-blue mountains
with their awesome shapes
ran hand in hand with the road,
until the surging clusters of night
fell over them and hid the sight.
Soon the headlamps had to scan the way
while the mind in tranquillity
was busy recollecting those moments of joy.

[saidevo]

saidevo's attempts at haiku

Writing a haiku looks simple but is actually difficult: you get ideas and a torrent of words. All of them you must reduce: to 3 lines, 17 syllables; 5 syllables on the first line, 7 on the second and 5 on the third. Plus a personal experience, outlook and a seasonal theme.

God through idols? How
Prim'tive! I'm modern: only
icons to click here.

Raindrops move and merge
on wires outside: advaita!
Leftovers for maid.

You are me and I
am you: so you foot the bill.
My purse, I forgot!

Loans for dhobis--for
donkeys: ne'er paid back, seize them!
Bank lost its papers.

Tomorrow ne'er comes.
Today and yesterdays, right?
All loose threads--my life!

Eyes caress the stars--
But fingers embrace only
my room window bars.
(adopted from a Tamil poem by Mu.Metha)

Fingers deftly play
the vINA strings--while my eyes
only remain shut.

Wife's morning 'kolams'--
Greedy ravens, squirrels leave
nothing for the ants.

(A 'kolam' is a decorative artwork drawn on the floor with flour.)

**********

To Prema Nair, Suma and other would-be haiku-writers (in another forum):

Form haiku or not--
Brevity rings a bell, fine!
And brings forth the best.

PremA rings the bell
SumA serves PremA-cooked feast--
Where are the others?

**********

[NayaSurya]

I never saw these before tonight and I had to post to tell you how beautiful they are. I love them all.

[saidevo]

This poem is structured on the antAdi form in Tamizh, where the last word(s) or letters of each foot is used as the first in the next, and the very first as the very last, to tie up everything into a mAlA--garland.

The One and Many
(iambic pentameter)

The One that was, was all that was, alone.
Alone, therefore, the wheel of Time at rest.
At rest, the One reflected to have a Clone.
A clone arose within and set the Quest.

The Quest immersed the One in a cosmic dream.
The Dream began in a primal undertone.
The tone dispersed in notes of lives in stream.
The stream of lives complains and seeks the One.

--saidevo, 03/03/2014

*****

[Friend from the West]

Hari Om

Namaste

Hello Saidevo,

Very nice and thanks for sharing your poetry again.

Om Namah Shivaya

FFTW

[ShivaFan]

Very nice Saidevo

... can anyone post a poem here? For example, I have one, they are actually songs (bhajans) to Devas or Devi, but since in English are, well, poems!

Om Namah Sivaya

[saidevo]

namaste.

You are welcome to post the poems you have, ShivaFan.

[manoharan]

This Tamil poem by Abhirami Bhattar comparable with Soundarya lahari of Adi Sankara is translated as below.



Verse 1 Abirami Anthathi



Goddess Abirami is my companion and the strongest support.
How can I describe her gorgeous body ?
Her dot in the forehead is like
A rising sun full of red radiance.
Valued by the believers as a precious ruby
So soft like the blossoms of red pomegranate
Even for worshipers like the goddess of wealth
She appears and disappears like lightning.
The mild fragrance of kumkum
Radiates from her body




http://truthdive.com/2014/03/09/abirami-anthathi-the-beauty-of-accompanying-abirami.html
(http://truthdive.com/2014/03/09/abirami-anthathi-the-beauty-of-accompanying-abirami.html)

[Anima Deorum]

Namaste,

Awesome poem, Saidevo! Thanks for sharing it with us and our Ishtas.

Hari Om

[saidevo]

The following poem employs the metre called amphimacer or cretic,
which has the pattern /-/ (an unstressed syllable between two stressed),
which is rare. The pattern in the last foot, sometimes, varies to
antibacchius (//-).

Human God
(Tetrameter of amphimacers/cretics: /-/)

Who would pray, to a god, who is male, and female?
You are both, in your genes, O my friend, male female!

Who would pray, to a god, who is null, sans woman?
Check the word, O my friend, male-female, man-woman!

Who would pray, to a god, who has clad, beastly skin?
Check your fur, O my friend, is that not, brutal skin?

Who would pray, to a god, dancing in, burial grounds?
What is born, O my friend, dies one day, how that sounds?

Human god, godly man, sacred word, that's my friend?
Human god's human guide; godly man, in the end!

--ramaNi, 21/01/2015

*****

[saidevo]

Supplication to Shiva

I know you are around; I need to dive
in mind and feel you, it's awesome!
I try an image, offer blossom,
and seek a kinship which, in time, will thrive.

A flower at your feet to cast I pick, ... 5
and chant, but thoughts arise and shift
my mind, and there it goes adrift,
like the slender smoke of a burning incense stick!

In this stage of vAnaprastha, I'm still
worldly; it is alright with me, ... 10
so long as I can always see
and feel your grace and have some spiritual thrill!

--ramaNi, 18/02/2015

*****

[saidevo]

Hermaphroditic God!

If Faith's belief not based on proof, then how
our faith in God is justified?
In spiritual quests, is faith a holy cow
that must be held and fortified?

The guru said: you know your mother how?
By instinct Sir, she is my source!
Even your dad, you know from her, and love!
Yet we trust a few in daily course.

We know only by face and yet we trust
the doctor, barber, laundry man!
And yet our faith in God we feel it must
be kept forever under a scan!

Perhaps it's wrong to hold as dad, our God!
Shiva, is father half and mother half;
as both we trust and pray to him and laud,
as mom in bangles, dad with a staff!

Our Atmic quest is such a rigmarole:
you need to trust and feel to find your soul!

--ramaNi, 20/02/2015

Note: A Shakespearean sonnet has three quartrains and a couplet.
This poem extends it by a fourth quartrain, which has no precedence.

*****

[Avyaydya]

Today I meet You here,
your whisper in my ear
I like to see You shine,
your joy is always mine

A hand finds my hand,
You truly are my Friend
Many doors we passed,
leaving names to last

Meet again we do,
my Love forever You

[saidevo]

pradoSham hymn: Moments of bliss in mundane life
[iambic tetrameter quartrain + iambic pentameter couplet]

01. In the vAnaprastha stage in life
my days go by in temporal lures;
with trivial thoughts my mind is rife,
my living style my soul obscures.
When would Shiva the Lord of blissful being
give me the sense to quit this vain sightseeing?

[vAnaprastha = the third stage or ashramam in one's life where in one is
supposed to reduce worldly activities and contemplate on Self. The other
three stages are: brahmachArya = bachelorhood/spinstership,
gRuhastha = householder, and saMnyAsa = renunciation.]

02. Melodic hymns give bits of bliss,
and eyes that view your divine form
impose the feel of what it is;
in the evening hues I could see your charm;
and yet in all these godly bits of time,
thoughts of two-ness arise against the prime!

03. Although my eyes and mind resort
to the worldliness of love and hate;
my act of worship is a sort
of shallow faith, at any rate,
in all my mundane acts I pray for your grace
that the karma heaped you smash without a trace!

--ramaNi, 02/03/2015

*****

[ShivaFan]

White Flowers

(1)

Everywhere You Are, but we are here,
Where Ganga descended, and Surya appears,
Mitraya's sky of solar wing,
Sails a golden coin with silver ring,
Brings hours closer, to the Last,
Cast the future, marked the past,
But the last One watching, was the First Who smiled,
Maheshwara smile on your flower child

Chorus:

Maheshwara
We are chasing the Morning
But cannot look away from the Moon in Your Hair

As the Sun rises
Over Banaras
We become Your white flowers, this is our prayer

Annapurna
Is Your Queen of the Mountains
From Kashmir She came to the Never Forsaken

Ganga embraces
Every last seeker
She is Kashi's Sister, and our Queen of Heaven

(2)

We gathered and scattered, and were born too far,
We were chasing the storm, thrown like a star,
We wandered through jungles of night's neon ghettos,
Our temples are small, our palace of echos,
Though we are only, your rainbow of shadows,
Your white lotus meadows, wind scattered petals,
Ishwara, come, live here awhile,
Maheshwara smile on your flower child

Chorus:

Maheshwara
We are chasing the Morning
But cannot look away from the Moon in Your Hair

As the Sun rises
Over Banaras
We become Your white flowers, this is our prayer

Annapurna
Is Your Queen of the Mountains
From Kashmir She came, to the Never Forsaken

Ganga embraces
Every last seeker
She is Kashi's Sister, and our Queen of Heaven

(3)

The white champaka, is a beautiful flower,
Matches the face of the bright Mountain's Daughter,
But we do not bring you, the white champaka,
Nor the ketaki flower, we are what we offer,
Unfolding our petals, we have become,
Your White Lotus Flowers under the Sun,
Your Shweta Padma with face to a Star,
It is not what you were, it is what you are

Chorus:

Maheshwara
We are chasing the Morning
But cannot look away from the Moon in Your Hair

As the Sun rises
Over Banaras
We become Your white flowers, this is our prayer

Annapurna
Is Your Queen of the Mountains
From Kashmir She came to the Never Forsaken

Ganga embraces
Every last seeker
She is Kashi's Sister, and our Queen of Heaven

And we are Your White Flowers,
Only White Flowers,
Smile on Your flowers and take what is given

[saidevo]

namaste ShivaFan!

Your song is divine and inspiring! Do share what you write in verse here.

saidevo

[smaranam]

Very nice SaiDevoji as always, ShivaFan ji, yet another wonderful piece for your MallikaArjuna , Avyaydyaji - simply beautiful, all other future contributors -- nice (this post is beyond space and time).

Why make a list, just a big hug to that Sat-Chit-Ananda most beautiful who really makes you write and express. All expressions come from the Beautiful One --

BG 10.41 yad yad vibhUtimat sattvam
shrimad Urjittam eva vA
tad tad evAvagaccha tvam
mama tejo-aMsha sambhavam

All opulent, beautiful and glorious creations spring from but a spark of My splendor. Know this ~

[saidevo]

pradoSham hymn: My shelter, Your Feet
(approximating to the Tamizh rhythm
tanatAna tAna tanatAna tAna tanatAna tAna tananA)

[Check this link for a Tamizh film song, some lines of which are in this rhythm:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9c9x4Af_f0 -- at time 2m.06s.]

Darkish-blue necked-One, on his bull standing, performs a blissful dance now,
Black-beetle in tow, blossoms-wear Mother, blissfully watches the Lord's show;
Before it darkens, hues in the sky are, joyfully divine, therefore,
In shrine that's sacred, watching divine form, I'll wear my ashes and watch more.

Life is a whirlpool, thinking they all mine, all these enjoyments I seek,
Knowing they're useless, ceasing my action, when would I bloom forth in mystique?
Under my Lord's feet, in time that is due, to rise in life with no aim,
The Axe-bearer should come, engage me in mind, and burn all the darkness with flame!

Happiness lasting, mind that is fasting, knowledge of Truth you bestow,
In this life in me, divine thoughts weaving, bless me to serve people and grow.
Crescent-moon on hair, female on left-side, stream on the apex you bear
My shelter Your feet, before it is late, bless me the gnosis, my prayer!

--ramaNi, 18/03/2015

*****