Life and *** are inseparable
Love without *** may be ideal
*** without love is brutal
*** beyond marriage is not ethical

*** is the source of creation
And the greatest thing for recreation
It has got the religious sanction
Marriage is the apt word to mention

*** is not a thing to be ashamed
But the greatest instinct to be shared
It relieves one’s tension
And elevates human function

It may be a biological need
But survives the human creed
It is all living beings’ need
It is nature’s greatest seed

A husband should adore his wife
She will remove all his strife
A wife should share his grief
The real harvest they will reap

It is a beautiful bird sanctuary
Where a sparrow chirps, a cuckoo sings
And  the parrot talks and the mina speaks
And the peacock dances

There is a great comradeship among th e birds
But a proud crow inflitrates into the place
And prattles and boos the cuckoo
And mocks at the lark

The nightingale sings so melodiously
That all the birds clap and laugh
Except the crow who thinks his bark
Is greater than the song of a lark

He feels as though he were the king of
The park and thinks his bark is sweeter than
A parrot’s talk and greater than a peacock’s
Walk. How long can he bark?

The crow is like a poison in a bowl of manna
How long will the birds bear their woes?
A day comes when they will kick the crow out
He will surely be out of sight

You can not become great by hurting the noble
Nor can you become strong by oppressing
The weak and the meek
My humility is not my weakness
Nor is your pride your strength
One can become great only by helping
The poor and the needy
And forgiving the faulty
And not finding fault with the mighty
Jesus can not be oppressed by crucifixion
His resurrection is the divine manifestation

The daughters of India are migrating birds
As brides, they fly with the bride grooms
To far off places of different weathers
And come back to their homes in only festive seasons

We are worried about their wounded pride
Their separation we can no longer hide
As parents we have to bear the emotional tide
We console ourselves they are at their soul mate’s side

Only parents understand the real suffering
Their offspring becomes a distant bird in spring
We don’t know what happens to them in autumn
Their health the cold weather may weaken

Why can’t they stay with mother and father?
I think the Hindu custom is very cruel rather
No sister or brother likes to forego their sibling
Her soul mate might be a king

MY DEAR HUMANIST

You are an imperialist
He is a terrorist
You promote cold war
And declare unilaterally real war
He does the so called holy war
Both of you stretch it too far

He kills the people indiscriminately
And you discriminately
Saddam Hussain and Bin Laden were once your friends
Ultimately they became your rivals

Saddam was hanged by you
But Bin Laden still eludes you
You have the riches and power
And feel as if you were the law giver

UNO and the World Bank bow to your power
But the terrorist could demolish your tower
You divide and rule the world
He terrorizes it with his deed and word

Do you know how many people you murdered in the war?
None has stopped your inhuman actions so far
You make friends with one state
The neighbouring country your buffer state

You call yourself a great democrat and humanist
We know you are an imperialist
And worse than a terrorist
You never listen to the pacifist

Walking is the king of exercises

It suits different age groups

And is useful for both genders

Its results are unbelievable wonders



Walk for five kilometers a day

And keeps the doctor away

You need not run like a race

But can walk at your own pace



Walking relieves your hypertension

And keeps your heart in good condition

It is a must for a diabetic

And is possible for a paralytic



It improves your vitality

And enhances your longevity

You can walk preferably in the morning

Or at least in the evening



Walking removes your bad cholesterol

And saves the consumption of petrol

Why do you eat carcinogenic fast foods in a pub?

Why don’t you join  a walkers’ club?

I hate those who always look into a mirror
and smear sweet smelling face powder
I think that is their grave error
and look at them with great horror

I need neither a comb nor a mirror
On my head I don't have the slightest hair
I am an egghead professor
my concept is as useful as pure air

I was sitting on the bank of the river
Godavari which was flowing swiftly
Towards its destination, the Bay of Bengal
Suddenly I asked my self, “What is my destination?”
I could not get a satisfactory answer
Is it? Service to humanity-
Reaching God-
Amassing a lot of wealth-
Getting a lot of wisdom
Or death-
I know not

When I look into the mirror
I think I am handsome
My wife  says that
I am handsome but
others do not saythat
I am handsome
I like  onlyMirror and
my wife and
hate everbody
because I hate
the truth
I am a middle aged
Boy

A cuckoo melodiously sang
For many years long
In anticipation of her dear king
The most beautiful seasonal spring

The song was so sweet and great
That it was heard all over the world
The world sympathized with the cuckoo
To console her they stood in a queue

The bird waited for the king
She expected a wedding ring
But he went to another land
Which he thought more grand

The cuckoo was shocked
Her voice was choked
How long will she stop the song?
It was not at all her wrong

She sang a different song
The people would throng
They blessed she would live long!
Her divine song she would prolong

If you comment
on my poem
I will comment
on yours-
newton is absolutely
true
even on
HELLO POETRY

I am not a heap of dry grass
To be burnt by a match stick
I am the great Indian soul
Which is as stupendous
And beautiful as the snow capped
Silvery Himalayas which have
Stood the test of time
And imperishable ,indestructible
Indescribable but admirable
But never to be conquered

The other day I was walking
Along the main road of the
Capital city of my state
I saw a Beautiful caption

“corruption  is a social evil”
On the vigilance Head office itself
The devil is sitting on the roof
Nobody needs any authentic proof

Without flowers and jewellery
No wife shares her bed with her husband
Every body thinks only money makes them grand
Bribe has become the watch word in this holy land

Without liquor and a hundred note
Nobody will cast his precious vote
Even the teachers took silver glasses
And silk saris for casting their vote

Without a bribe one can’t register the land
The officer shamelessly stretches his/her hand
He/she looks more like a beggar
And reminds me of a grave digger

But a few officers are very honest
Because of them a poor man gets a post
May God shed his divine light
And make their lives gorgeously bright!

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

when intellectuals keep quiet
the goons resort to nasty fight
silence is the most dreadful

Only a woman can give all of us birth
But for her we would not have been on this earth
We **** her breast for milk and lie on her chest
All our ways are not just

Mother is the holiest earth
Out of her womb we grew up like trees
Wife is the universal gardener
Who nourishes us with love and care

The sky is our fond grand mother
Who tells us many fairy tales
The fire is our  powerful aunt
Who prepares delicious diet

Water is our dear daughter
Who becomes our care taker.
The air is our kind sister
Without her we can’t live for an hour  

What do we do for a woman?
Sometimes our ways are inhuman
In old age we ignore our mother
Her feelings we don’t bother

We sometimes **** our wife
Dowry is a double edged knife
We sometimes **** a female child in the womb
And don’t allow her to get to the tomb

Woman is the living Deity
We should treat her with great piety
Even if we can’t worship her
We should treat her as a human as she is our life giver

Diwali is the festival of light
To those groping in the dark
But when  we celebrate the festival
With great delight
We never think of
The poor child’s pathetic plight
He is a burning *******
And she is an exploding fire work
Who illuminate others’ lives
But burn them selves like candles
How many children have got exploded
In the firework factories?
Child labour is a scar on Indian society
When I lit a lamp to night,I will shed a tear
For the poor soul
Who was burnt in the factory
Like a waste paper

Once you were a twittering butterfly
And seduced many other insects
With your beautiful wings
And sweet sayings

The insects knew you   were a caterpillar
And a shameful lie teller and disgraceful yeller
You changed your colour and proud of your valour
You seem to be a chameleon and went into oblivion

You became an owl and speaks like a fowl
And didn’t change your impious soul
You were devoid of  any worthy goal
And thought that every other bird was a fool

You have became a saintly crane
And standing on  a single foot
To you life seems to be a circus feat
Every creature knows that you are a great cheat

There is a great glow on Jesus’ face
He was born to rescue the entire human race
Blessed are the people who believe in Christ
He is undoubtedly the divine priest
Him we should continuously pray
And keep the Satan at bay
If we don’t love our fellow human
We will never reach heaven
We should do our duty
The holy Bible exhorts us to take pity
Jerusalem is the Jesus’ birth city
Mother Mary has great piety
Jesus blossomed in the west
His teachings are the best
Our life on earth is a myth
Man forgets this eternal truth
Man incessantly hankers after riches
Doesn’t hesitate to delve deep into ditches
He tells spurious lies
And falls an easy prey to vice
He forgets the purpose of his life
And lives in perpetual strife
Jealousy and hatred are real hell
Only good things we should tell
We should never spread horror or terror
It is an inexcusable error
We should not fight for religion
Man should be peaceful in every region
God is indisputably one
Fighting for Him is real sin
We should be ready for the Doomsday
Christianity shows us the right way
The Bible leads us to the holy path
I think we will have the purification bath
We should get ready for the Sabbath
Jesus will give us his holy cloth

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 was born as a chaste Hindu
And hated its watertight caste system
The rigid ritualistic custom
I became a cosmopolitan Christian

The Christianity always discussed forgiveness
I did not have that much greatness
I was fed up with its teachings of kindness
I converted my self into a Muslim

I grew a long beard and traveled in a costly car
And believed in the inspiring holy war
The police put me into a huge prison
The best place for my enlightened vision

Which God would save me from this cell?
I did not know if I would go to heaven or hell
The only thing I could do was to yell
Into a bottomless pit did I eventually fell?

You are a cricketing wonder
For bowlers you are a thunder
You entered the arena two decades ago
And do not have the slightest ego

Runs flow from your  magic wand
Like pebbles from a brook
Many cricketers your counsel seek
You climbed the cricketing peak

You have made tons and tons of runs
In twenty one years
And broke each and every record
And you are our triumph card

You don’t care spin or pace
And have incredible grace
The great Don Bradman  invited you for dinner
Undoubtedly You are India’s greatest winner

You make every Indian proud
Across the globe you pull the crowd
You are great in any form of cricket
When you bat, the ball is out of sight

But one achievement still eludes you
Your dream shall come true
And you will be a part of winning world cup
Then Every Indian with love stand up

we celebrate international teachers’ day
They should show the society the right way
A teacher in my neighbourhood came to lime light this day
He is married and teaches science every day

A thirteen year old girl became pregnant
She is undoubtedly innocent
The angry villagers beat the office boy
Who helped the teacher in the ploy

The teacher treated the girl like a toy
And crushed the toy for his evil joy
He was suspended from the service
The DNA TEST is ordered to prove the vice

The entire teaching community hung their head in shame
They are slowly losing their eternal fame
Unless they work with a lot of professional ethics
The parents will/shall **** them with bamboo sticks

A monk was concentrating upon God
In front of a vamp’s house
Whenever a visitor came
He would pick up a stone and threw it

Years rolled on and the stones piled up
The monk became old and the vamp sick
There was a huge heap of stones
The monk would look at it in surprise

The dooms day arrived
The monk was sent to hell
And the vamp to heaven
What a Paradoxical judgement!

The monk asked God
“Why did you send me to hell
And  the vamp to heaven”?
God replied,” you concentrated on her fraud
But she concentrated on God.
She dedicated her soul to me
And only her body to the visitors”

Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad

He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time

The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon

She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to  see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher

The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”

The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation

I am a big thief
And I live in Independent India
On the 64th independence day
I was beaten almost to death
By the police
Because I was hungry
And tried to steal
An apple from a fruit vendor’s

On the same day
I saw the photograph
Of an officer
In all the leading news papers
He was given the best administrator’s
Award by the GOVERNMENT
He takes bribes everyday openly
I am a big thief and sinner
He is  a  great officer and award winner
I am a big thief
And I live in Independent India
On the 64th independence day
I was beaten almost to death
By the police
Because I was hungry
And tried to steal
An apple from a fruit vendor’s

On the same day
I saw the photograph
Of an officer
In all the leading news papers
He was given the best administrator’s
Award by the GOVERNMENT
He takes bribes everyday openly
I am a big thief and sinner
He is  a  great officer and award winner

The sun rises in the east
And sets in the west
A Hindu turns to the east
And worship the sun
A Muslim turns to west
And looks at the moon
A Hindu has a closely shaven head
And a Muslim A long grown beard
The Hindu writes from left to right
And a Muslim from right to left
Their rituals are quite opposite
And their beliefs totally different
But what is the colour of their blood?
What about the sufferings during a flood?
How do they feel during a hunger?
What about the music of a melodious singer?
What about the emotions
During  marriage and birth?
And  the inevitable death?
Their roads may be different
But the destination is the same
Allah or God may be the name