In India pongal is the best festival
It is not a mere ritual
We celebrate it in January
It is very very customary
It lasts for three days
Bhogi,sankranti and kanuma are the days.
On the first day we have a holy bath
Thinking that it sets us on the right path
Early in the morning we sit around the bhogi fire
Thinking it is the demon Ravana’s pyre
We put on a new and attractive attire
Dreaming life is a joyful boat shire
Children make wreaths of cowdung
Throw them into the fire like a gold ring
The villages are full of colourful bullocks
We sing folk songs taking neem sticks
The bride groom leaves for the mother-in-law’s house
The bride waits for him wearing a new saree and a blouse
Father-in-law gives the groom a costly gift
Mother-in-law makes a sumptuous feast
Younger sister-in-law teases the groom
The bride and the groom confine to the room
Mother prepares delicious dishes and pickles
Father goes to the farm worshipping the sickles
On the last day we go to the temple fair
I hope I made the happy pongal very clear
Yours sincerely,
JVL NARASIMHA RAO

Myself caught in the heatwave sunlight, brown eyes
furrowed in the sun, scarf loose on my neck/
the transcendental Denpasar morning-birds
are playing their melodies in my head still,
three years post-Indonesia.
        All of my soul to India now,
        sky the pink of painted elephants
        on Jaipur dawning,
        my afterlife was somewhere here
        perhaps two generations ago, chances are.
               Vijay Raghav Rao and Alla Rakha
               playing the Tabla/via earphones/treading the
               Funary Box City (Kashi) future Spring
               hands held together keeping calm pace.
               Looking about, my twenty-two year old face
catches humid wind
S
I
L
V
E
R
S
H
O
P
tattered bike leaning on the gated guest house entrance
     PERENNIAL AZURE SHIVA SITS CROSS LEGGED/
     COBRA NECKLACE IMITIATONS ON THE GODDESS THROAT/
     MEDITATING SHIVA/
dulled from years and corrosion.
Brahmin center of the market street
flapping it's tail,
sweat beads from my forehead bleeding
to oily pavement.
At last the months have come for the river Ganges,
April penumbra/savage thunderclap
while school children uplifting the heart
                 AND MIND
are ROARING in their laughter
the CONTINENTAL DISCORD OF JOY
sleeping with their eyes open
while others are too tired for the Earth.
Sidney Bechet floating swan songs during
the black hour cremations/
“Bechet Creole Blues”
CATERWAUL IN THAT              VOID
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DEATH/
LUNACY OF LIFE
                     (I've arrived at the simultaneous crossroads
                                                      ­  of both)
searing flesh in open air pyramids/
Manikarnika Ghat,
Asia  F
          L
         O
         W
          S
through dreams
like inevitable prophecy
and as ash blends with stars
the CITY seems fulfilled
and mystifying
in it's
                      (((((RESPLENDENCE)))))

Oh! Rama you are the most virtuous
You are the eldest son of king Dasaratha’s
You always stood by your word
You are the greatest man in the world
Your wife Sita is the most pious woman
Your step mother kaika asked your father for a boon
She asked you to go to the forest
She refused your father’s request
You obliged your father’s promise
He grieved to lose your loving kiss
Along with your chaste wife
In forest you spent fourteen years’ strenuous life
Brother Lakshmana shared your strife
He cut demon shurphanaka’s nose with a knife
The demon Ravana came in disguise
Sita fell a prey to his vice
He abducted her to his kingdom
Sita was deprived of her freedom
You wept for Sita like a man
Trials and tribulations are very common
You made friends with Lord Hanuman
He was undoubtedly a super man
He flew to Ravana”s kingdom
And relieved Sita”s boredom
He assured her Rama would **** the demon
Because He was supra human
In the fierce fight
You were too great for his sight
Ravana fell down in the battle field
Sita was freed from his yield
You were crowned king
Many songs did the people sing
We celebrate your birth day with religious zeal
All our troubles you will seal
By JVL NARASIMHA RAO

We celebrate 5th September as teachers’ day

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born on this very day

He showed the Indian nation the right way

His debt how can we repay?



He is a universal teacher

And a man of inimitable stature

Wisdom and simplicity are the hallmarks of his feature

Incomparable oration is his nature



He rose to the nation’s highest post

And tried to build a bridge between east and west

His philosophical teachings are the best

And his knowledge of English is very vast



He is Plato’s philosopher king

As President honour and dignity did he bring

He brought religion a new meaning

His glory and greatness I would like to sing



Yours sincerely,

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

INDIA

SPRING
Spring is the king of the seasons
Ugadi is the first of the festivals
We wear new clothes
And eat delicious broths
Mother prepares the customary mango pickle
Father worships the sickle
Nature is in her full bloom
There is no room for any gloom
The cuckoo sings early in the morning
The farmer is ready for harvesting
There are new born leaves
And pleasant breezes
Every tree has a flower
There is flowing water in the river
The wind blows very softly
The birds fly very swiftly
The winter was very cold
But the spring is very beautiful to behold
Ugadi brings in new hopes
The farmer depends on yearly crops
May this new year bring in peace!
I am able to write a poetic piece
by JVL NARASIMHA  RAO

English is the king of all the languages

It will stay for all ages

The English conquered the whole world

English has become our watch word

Its spelling is un- phonetic

Its grammar is idiotic

We should know its glorious history

How it became a global language is a mystery

The English are highly polite

Their manners are a real delight

Everybody should know English for their survival

It is responsible for their cultural revival

I love English for its beauty

Teaching English is my duty

English text is my holy kit

I will try my level best to teach it

The secret of my happiness is simple

The school is my temple

Let’s all teach English with a missionary zeal

The eternal bliss we will surely feel

Yours sincerely,

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

INDIA

I am a huge tree
And I am very free
My roots are in the Indian soil
But branched out in the west with great toil

People say my roots are not seen
But my leaves are green
The trunk is very high
It is growing into the sky

The roots may be bitter
The fruits may be sweeter
I know without roots
There are no fruits

I grow up further
My roots are very stronger
I don’t know which tree I am
But I am very calm

No tempest can shake me
In my grove the bee makes honey
If you want to name
Please do it for my fame

Yours sincerely,
JVL NARASIMHA RAO
INDIA

I am a universal man
And God fearing human
I hate terror in the name of religion
Man should be peaceful in every region
God is undoubtedly one
Fighting for him is real sin
I was brought up in Hindu mythology
But influenced by Christian theology
I read The Gita in the morning
And the bible in the evening
Lord Krishna flourished in the east
Jesus Christ blossomed in the west
Both were feared by their respective kings
And influenced the world by their sayings
The Gita asks us to do our duty
The Bible exhorts us to take pity
If you don’t love your fellow men
You will never reach heaven
Jealousy and hatred are real hell
Only good things we should tell
Life on earth is not permanent
God is the greatest savant
By JVL NARASIMHA RAO

Without you, what do I have?
In you, my mind has settled,
In my eyes, my dreams are imprisoned.

Day and night, in unbearable anguish have I waited,
But, just the bitter pain of separation, you have brought.
Never did you see what my heart yearned.
When all I wanted was light from you,
It is only darkness that you have filled me with.

Open my inner colors with your ray of love,  
And bring hopes of life into my barren heart.
Release me from this anxiety by unchaining me,
I will have a new life with you,
I will see a new world through you.  

~ Translation to English by Bharathi
From Kannada: "ನೀನಿಲ್ಲದೆ ನನಗೇನಿದೆ?" by M. N. Vyasa Rao.

Love is the essence of life
It is the antidote to strife
Love binds the people together
It makes our lives peaceful forever
Love is entirely different from lust
Selfless love is the best
Love is the greatest of all emotions
Man is the cleverest of all creations
Internet makes the world a global village
All of us have created a page
Every blog should become an adage
English makes our lives rich
It should come to common man’s reach
Writing poetry is a great art
It should touch our heart
All the world is a stage
Why should we live in a cage?
We should enjoy the beauty of nature
We relish every aspect of her feature
Our life on earth is not permanent
We should believe that it is transient
We don’t know when our life ends
One day the e-mail God sends
We should open it gracefully
We will have lived our life meaningfully
by JVL NARASIMHA RAO

Kirui Frank junior is thankful to Eliot,
The founder of this vast site
The pioneer of hellopoetry
The mentor and mother of both young and old
Gents and ladies who know little
About the vast field of poetry
I'm specifically thankful
For in this site,
I met a mother....a lecturer who cares
She corrects me and advice me
She whips me when I mess repetitively
Name withheld for good reason
Here I met old friends who proved real
I thank you
Rao
Quinfinn
Pradip.
Amongst many
I met agemates who proved real
I love you
You are many
I can't mention all of you
I met young people who proved good writers
I am happy for all of you.
Save for two pirates
Who betrayed themselves by sending mails
To dupe us
I am also happy for them,
For we get to learn from you...

In all of the mentioned
I love to share to the world
The feelings of my happiness
In the poems you post
From love
To hate
To days journals
To short orature
To songs
To puns
To short composition
To historic poems
And others
I learn from every piece
I like every piece
In all I see the beginner,the pioneer,the one and only Eliot.
And this honest thankful note be granted
Someday I will donate something better
To show my concern and heartfelt love.
Thank you again.

autumn river
the paddle swings
into a sigh

Written by
Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

Since ages You stand tall,
All safe and sound, no fear or fall;
The mighty sky is what they call,
For you cover and composes it all!
Though far high and exalted,
But humble to embrace the Earth embedded!
You showed me the way to self realisation,
No ego clashes, no expectations just your dedication;
Dedication to shade the Earth and embellish it,
With the shining Sun and the glittering stars around it!
It says- No matter what you possess,
It's your Attitude that you Need to harness!
Nigar Rao

Let faith be your charioteer,
And you tread across without fear;
Live each day with gratefulness you bear,
And you'll ultimately flourish year after year!
Nigar Rao

Only you, to the exclusion of rest,
Were my life, posed as the best.
Time turned and the same you too,
My heart was left for the cry and hue.
All crushed and crumpled as you say,
You left me all forlorn without a way.
But thanks a bunch dear buddy,
As you helped me be back on my feet, quite sturdy.
I have burnt myself to ashes,
And there on rose up as a phoenix.
No scar or mark now chases,
I'm all on my own, behold praises!
It's you and only you rather no else,
Who paved my way to these tinkling bells!
Nigar Rao

To reach you my soulmate, I'll unlock each door,
As your presence weighs all the way more;
In that deep dark sea, you are my only shore,
Your being there for me is in itself a joy in galore!
Nigar Rao

That night I felt her naked body beneath my hands.
That night I felt her lips against mine. The passion and the pain of making love. Her blue eyes and dark brown hair.
Those rosy red lips and that smile. Her enjoying my wild side and me taking in her madness. Before we even touched I was dressed as Rao and her as Christine from The Phantom of the Opera.
I woke up the next morning with a freshly bitten ear and my shins bruised also I walked with a limp. Then the rumors that slept with a girl.
I don't know what to say what is dream and what is reality. I guess it was real. The rumors made it from my college to my religious small town. I only told one person that secret and whoever that was told the whole school. I don't remember ever leaving my bed that night but somehow that dream was a reality.

When peace is declared, my mistress will put away her war nuggets
for good, because as she aches for a half foot of timber I will slip to
her my wood, making her darker, marked with my *** love marker.