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"rao" poems
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
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
HAPPY PONGAL
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)))))
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Self-Made Prophecies (Of Varanasi)
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)))))
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65
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
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Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
THE RAMAYANA RETOLD IN VERSE
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
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Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 6:23 PM UTC
A UNIVERSAL TEACHER
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
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
SPRING, THE SEASONS' KING
You're a Teacher first and a Parent second As a father, you're doing great every second You have always been true   And knew the right thing to do No matter how much negativity surrounds you We wonder how do you manage to Forgive the ones who hurt you You gave us everything from the bottom of your heart We inherited our love for badminton, cricket, and art The love you gave us and the values you taught Are so priceless and can never be bought Here's your Birthday song, "My Dad, My Hero" Because without you, we are nothing but a Zero >><><><><><< Prem Kumar Tunuri Sunil Jaikar Tunuri
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Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
My Dad, My Hero. His name is Bala Bhaskara Rao Tunuri
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
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 6:56 PM UTC
ENGLISH AND THE ENGLISH
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
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Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 6:40 AM UTC
I AM A HUGE TREE
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
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 5:57 AM UTC
I AM A UNIVERSAL MAN
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.
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Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Without You What Do I Have?
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
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 6:07 AM UTC
LOVE IS THE ESSENCE OF LIFE
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.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Gratitude.
I perhaps have to say helo' for long i have lost on the low poems that not trend songs that are meaningless, are those elsewhere, in the world i've just left, there is no sweet. i missed you at hello poetry, the daily stuff,that make my heart skip a beat the poems i read more than five times, not because they were tough, they were nice and everytime isatiable, so i had time, to read and read... everytime finding a new line to stress getting a new point to chew, and reading a new phrase aloud to recal, in all,i missed hello poetry, i missed the golden poets, the friendly and guiding Nicole, the inspiring Prandip, the very concerned and confident Sahideen, not to fotget Rao, and all i cannot name, this made me say heloo. maybe,i need you reply me heloo.
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Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
helo helo helo
autumn river the paddle swings into a sigh Written by Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
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Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
Untitled
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
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Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
The Deep Blue sky
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
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Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 12:29 PM UTC
Breathe in faith!